initial commit of ebook 16802HEAD main

author: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:49:43 -0700
committer: Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> 2025-10-15 04:49:43 -0700
commit: d1ae556cde1cccbac808aa98338bfbe927cc020d (patch)
tree: b846ff761e35579299ebfd1885fcb75ef7b13b3b
38 files changed, 10986 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6833f05
--- /dev/null
+++ b/.gitattributes
@@ -0,0 +1,3 @@
+* text=auto
+*.txt text
+*.md text
diff --git a/16802-8.txt b/16802-8.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..05d50fc
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-8.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3493 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Ladies' Vase, by An American Lady
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Ladies' Vase
+       Polite Manual for Young Ladies
+
+
+Author: An American Lady
+
+
+
+Release Date: October 4, 2005  [eBook #16802]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Julia Miller, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note: Printer's errors from the original book, such as
+                    inconsistent hyphenation and missing punctuation,
+                    have been retained in this version of the text.
+                    A list of these errors is located at the end of
+                    the text.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LADIES' VASE;
+
+Or, Polite Manual for Young Ladies.
+
+Original and Selected
+
+by
+
+AN AMERICAN LADY
+
+Eighth Edition.
+
+Hartford:
+H. S. Parsons and Co.
+
+Stereotyped by
+Richard H. Hobbs.
+Hartford, Conn.
+
+1849
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+So many volumes have already appeared before the public, similar in
+character to this little work, that it is with feelings of diffidence we
+bring our humble offering, especially when we consider the rich merit
+possessed by many of its predecessors. But our apology must be found in
+the fact that these publications are, from their size, and consequent
+expense, inaccessible to many of the class whose improvement they are so
+well adapted to promote. Considering the formation of female character
+and manners a matter of inestimable importance, especially at the
+present age, swayed as it is by moral rather than by physical force, we
+have carefully availed ourselves of the best advice of some of our most
+judicious writers on female education; and, by presenting our work in a
+cheaper form than any of this class which is now before the public, hope
+to render it attainable to all those for whom it is especially designed.
+
+_April 16, 1847._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+POLITENESS,                                 7
+TRUE AND FALSE POLITENESS,                  9
+IMPORTANCE OF GOOD MANNERS,                13
+SELF-POSSESSION,                           16
+GOOD COMPANY,                              19
+FRIENDSHIP,                                21
+KINDRED HEARTS,                            28
+CONVERSATION,                              30
+EXAGGERATION,                              34
+EGOTISM,                                   37
+GENTLENESS,                                44
+SISTERLY VIRTUES,                          46
+HOME,                                      49
+FIRESIDE INFLUENCE,                        51
+                     { THE TEETH,          54
+PERSONAL APPEARANCE, { THE HAIR,           57
+                     { THE HANDS,          59
+DRESS,                                     61
+COMPRESSION OF THE LUNGS,                  64
+LETTER-WRITING,                            68
+MUSIC,                                     71
+FLOWERS,                                   73
+TIME,                                      76
+NOVEL-READING,                             85
+FEMALE ROMANCE,                            89
+BEHAVIOR TO GENTLEMEN,                     95
+MARRIAGE,                                 101
+MARRIAGE HYMN,                            104
+FEMALE INFLUENCE,                         105
+A DIFFICULT QUESTION,                     109
+EASILY DECIDED,                           121
+INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON WOMAN,       132
+IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO WOMAN,          137
+
+
+
+
+LADIES' VASE.
+
+
+POLITENESS.
+
+
+Politeness, like every thing else in one's character and conduct, should
+be based on Christian principle. "Honor all men," says the apostle. This
+is the spring of good manners; it strikes at the very root of
+selfishness: it is the principle by which we render to all ranks and
+ages their due. A respect for your fellow-beings--a reverence for them
+as God's creatures and our brethren--will inspire that delicate regard
+for their rights and feelings, of which good manners is the sign.
+
+If you have truth--not the truth of policy, but religious truth--your
+manners will be sincere. They will have earnestness, simplicity, and
+frankness--the best qualities of manners. They will be free from
+assumption, pretense, affectation, flattery, and obsequiousness, which
+are all incompatible with sincerity. If you have sincerity, you will
+choose to appear no other, nor better, than you are--to dwell in a true
+light.
+
+We have often insisted, that the Bible contains the only rules necessary
+in the study of politeness. Or, in other words, that those who are the
+real disciples of Christ, cannot fail to be truly polite. Thus, let the
+young woman who would possess genuine politeness, take her lessons, not
+in the school of a hollow, heartless world, but in the school of Jesus
+Christ. I know this counsel may be despised by the gay and fashionable;
+but it will be much easier to despise it, than to prove it to be
+incorrect.
+
+"Always think of the good of the whole, rather than of your own
+individual convenience," says Mrs. Farrar, in her _Young Ladies'
+Friend_. A most excellent rule; and one to which we solicit your earnest
+attention. She who is thoroughly imbued with the Gospel spirit, will not
+fail to do so. It was what our Savior did continually; and I have no
+doubt that his was the purest specimen of good manners, or genuine
+politeness, the world has ever witnessed; the politeness of Abraham
+himself not excepted.
+
+
+
+
+TRUE AND FALSE POLITENESS.
+
+
+Every thing really valuable is sure to be counterfeited. This applies
+not only to money, medicine, religion, and virtue, but even to
+politeness. We see in society the truly polite and the falsely polite;
+and, although all cannot explain, all can feel the difference. While we
+respect the one, we despise the other. Men hate to be cheated. An
+attempt to deceive us, is an insult to our understandings and an affront
+to our morals. The pretender to politeness is a cheat. He tries to palm
+off the base for the genuine; and, although he may deceive the vulgar,
+he cannot overreach the cultivated. True politeness springs from right
+feelings; it is a good heart, manifesting itself in an agreeable life;
+it is a just regard for the rights and happiness of others in small
+things; it is the expression of true and generous sentiments in a
+graceful form of words; it regards neatness and propriety in dress, as
+something due to society, and avoids tawdriness in apparel, as offensive
+to good taste; it avoids selfishness in conduct and roughness in
+manners: hence, a polite person is called a _gentle_ man. True
+politeness is the smoothness of a refined mind and the tact of a kind
+heart.
+
+Politeness is a word derived from the Greek word _polis_, which means a
+city--the inhabitants of which are supposed, by constant intercourse
+with each other, to be more refined in manners than the inhabitants of
+the country. From _polis_, comes our English word _polish_, which
+signifies an effect produced by rubbing down roughnesses until the
+surface is smoothed and brightened: hence, we speak of polished minds
+and polished manners. Persons in good society rub against each other
+until their sharp points are worn down, and their intercourse becomes
+easy. The word _urbanity_ comes from the Latin word _urbs_; that, also,
+means a city, and it signifies politeness, gentleness, polish, for a
+similar reason.
+
+In mingling with our fellow-men, there is a constant necessity for
+little offices of mutual good will. An observing and generous-minded
+person notices what gives him offense, and what pleases him in the
+conduct of others; and he seeks at once to correct or cultivate similar
+things in himself. He acts upon the wise, Christian principle of doing
+to others as he would have them do to him. Hence, in dress and person,
+he is clean and neat; in speech, he is courteous; in behavior,
+conciliating; in the pursuit of his own interests, unobtrusive. No truly
+polite person appears to notice bodily defects or unavoidable
+imperfections in others; and, above all, he never sneers at religion,
+either in its doctrines, ordinances, or professors.
+
+False politeness is but a clumsy imitation of all this. It is selfish
+in its object, and superficial in its character. It is a slave to
+certain forms of speech, certain methods of action, and certain fashions
+of dress. It is insincere; praising where it sees no merit, and excusing
+sin where it beholds no repentance. It is the offspring of selfishness;
+perverting the golden rule by flattering stupidity and winking at vice,
+with the hope of being treated in the same way by the community. It is a
+bed of flowers, growing over a sepulchre, and drawing its life from the
+loathsome putrefaction within.
+
+Yet, insincere and wrong as are the motives to false politeness, it is,
+after all, better than vulgarity. It is the cotton batting, that keeps
+the glass vases of society from dashing against each other.
+"_Familiarity_," says the proverb, "_breeds contempt_;" and this is
+found true, whenever coarse minds with rude manners come in contact.
+Careless of the little decencies of society; selfish in selecting the
+best seat in the room, or the best dish at the table; unwashed in
+person, and slovenly in dress: what is this but an open proclamation of
+utter disregard for others? How soon contempt must follow!
+
+Let the young polish their manners, not by attending to mere artificial
+rules, but by the cultivation of right feelings. Let them mingle with
+refined society as often as they can; and, by refined society, I do not
+mean those whom you find in the ball-room--in the theater--in the
+crowded party, or those--however wealthy, or richly dressed--you feel to
+be only artificially polite; but I mean those who make you feel at ease
+in their society, while, at the same time, they elevate your aims and
+polish your manners. What a good style is to noble sentiments,
+politeness is to virtue.
+
+
+
+
+IMPORTANCE OF GOOD MANNERS.
+
+
+There is something in the very constitution of human nature which
+inclines us to form a judgment of character from manners. It is always
+taken for granted, unless there is decisive evidence to the contrary,
+that the manners are the genuine expression of the feelings. And even
+where such evidence exists--that is, where we have every reason to
+believe that the external appearance does injustice to the moral
+dispositions; or, on the other hand, where the heart is too favorably
+represented by the manners--there is still a delusion practiced upon the
+mind, by what passes under the eye, which it is not easy to resist. You
+may take two individuals of precisely the same degree of intellectual
+and moral worth, and let the manners of the one be bland and attractive,
+and those of the other distant or awkward, and you will find that the
+former will pass through life with far more ease and comfort than the
+latter; for, though good manners will never effectually conceal a bad
+heart, and are, in no case, any atonement for it, yet, taken in
+connection with amiable and virtuous dispositions, they naturally and
+necessarily gain upon the respect and goodwill of mankind.
+
+You will instantly perceive--if the preceding remarks be correct--that
+it is not only your interest to cultivate good manners, as you hereby
+recommend yourself to the favorable regards of others, but also your
+duty, as it increases, in no small degree, your means of usefulness. It
+will give you access to many persons, and give you an influence over
+those whom you could otherwise never approach; much less, whose feelings
+and purposes you could never hope, in any measure, to control.
+
+"If I should point you to the finest model of female manners which it
+has ever been my privilege to observe," says a late writer, in a letter
+to his daughter, "and one which will compare with the most perfect
+models of this or any other age, I should repeat a venerated name--that
+of Mrs. Hannah More. It was my privilege, a few years ago, to make a
+visit to the residence of this distinguished female; a visit which I
+have ever since regarded as among the happiest incidents of my life. At
+that time, she numbered more than fourscore years, but the vigor of her
+intellect was scarcely impaired; and, from what she was, I could easily
+conceive what she had been when her sun was at its meridian. In her
+person, she was rather small, but was a specimen of admirable symmetry.
+In her manners, she united the dignity and refinement of the court, with
+the most exquisite urbanity and gentleness which the female character,
+in its loveliest forms, ever exhibited. She impressed me continually
+with a sense of the high intellectual and moral qualities by which she
+was distinguished, but still left me as unconstrained as if I had been
+conversing with a beloved child. There was an air of graceful and
+unaffected ease; an instinctive regard to the most delicate proprieties
+of social intercourse; a readiness to communicate, and yet a desire to
+listen; the dignity of conscious merit, united with the humility of the
+devoted Christian: in short, there was such an assemblage of
+intellectual and moral excellences beaming forth in every expression,
+and look, and attitude, that I could scarcely conceive of a more perfect
+exhibition of human character. I rejoice that it is the privilege of all
+to know Mrs. More through her works; and I can form no better wish for
+you than that you may imbibe her spirit, and walk in her footsteps."
+
+
+
+
+SELF-POSSESSION.
+
+
+Self-possession is the first requisite to good manners; and, where it is
+wanting, there is generally a reason for it, in some wrong feeling or
+appreciation of things. Vanity, a love of display, an overweening desire
+to be admired, are great obstacles to self-possession; whereas, a
+well-disciplined and well-balanced character will generally lead to
+composure and self-command. In a very elegant assemblage, in a large
+drawing-room in a Southern city, I saw a young lady walk quietly and
+easily across the apartment to speak to a friend, who said to her: "I
+wanted very much to get to you, but I had not the courage to cross the
+room. How could you do it?--all alone, too, and with so many persons
+looking at you!" "I did not think of any body's looking at me," was the
+reply; and in that lay the secret of her self-possession. Very modest
+people believe themselves to be of too little consequence to be
+observed; but conceited ones, think every body must be looking at them.
+Inexperienced girls, who are not wanting in modesty, are apt to dread
+going into a crowded room, from an idea that every eye will be turned
+upon them; but after a while they find that nobody cares to look at
+them, and that the greater the crowd, the less they are observed.
+
+Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than
+on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the designing, will
+be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return.
+A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the
+selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see and to hear,
+and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire
+all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you
+can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of
+yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much
+attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident;
+if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others.
+
+The popular belle, who is the envy of her own sex and the admiration of
+the other, has her secret griefs and trials, and thinks she pays very
+dearly for her popularity; while the girl who is least attended to in
+crowded assemblies, is apt to think her's the only hard lot, and that
+there is unmixed happiness in being a reigning belle. She, alone, whose
+steady aim is to grow better and wiser every day of her life, can look
+with an equal eye on both extremes. If your views are elevated, and your
+feelings are ennobled and purified by communion with gifted spirits, and
+with the Father of spirits, you will look calmly on the gayest scenes
+of life; you will attach very little importance to the transient
+popularity of a ball-room; your endeavor will be to bring home from
+every visit some new idea, some valuable piece of information, or some
+useful experience of life.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD COMPANY.
+
+
+"Good company," says Duclos, "resembles a dispersed republic: the
+members of it are found in all classes. Independent of rank and station,
+it exists only among those who think and feel; among those who possess
+correct ideas and honorable sentiments." The higher classes, constantly
+occupied with the absorbing interests of wealth and ambition, formerly
+introduced into their magnificent saloons a grave and almost diplomatic
+stiffness of manners, of which the solemnity banished nature and
+freedom. The amusements of the lower classes, which rather resembled a
+toil than a recreation, present to the spectator a procedure
+irreconcilable to good taste.
+
+There are, moreover, too many points of resemblance between the manners
+and education of the higher and lower classes, to admit of our finding
+the elements of good society in either of them. The lower orders are
+ignorant, from want of means of instruction; the higher, from indolence
+and perpetually increasing incapacity. It is besides not a little
+curious that, even in the bygone days of ceremonious manners, the higher
+classes, by whom they were practiced, were uniformly taught by those
+illiterate persons of the lower classes who almost alone practice the
+art of dancing-masters.
+
+It is therefore to the middle class, almost exclusively, that we must
+look for good society; to that class which has not its ideas contracted
+by laborious occupations, nor its mental powers annihilated by luxury.
+In this class, it is truly observed, society is often full of charm:
+every one seems, according to the precept of _La Bruy�re_, "anxious,
+both by words and manners, to make others pleased with him and with
+themselves." There are slight differences of character, opinion, and
+interest; but there is no prevailing style, no singular or affected
+customs. An unperceived interchange of ideas and kind offices produces a
+delightful harmony of thoughts and sentiments; and the wish to please
+inspires those affectionate manners, those obliging expressions, and
+those unrestrained attentions, which alone render social unions pleasant
+and desirable.
+
+
+
+
+FRIENDSHIP.
+
+
+This subject was forcibly presented to my mind by a conversation I
+recently heard in a party of young ladies, and which I take as a pattern
+and semblance of twenty other conversations I have heard in twenty
+similar parties. Friendship was (as it very often is) the subject of the
+discussion; and, though the words have escaped my memory, I can well
+recall the substance of the remarks. One lady boldly asserted that there
+was no such thing as friendship in the world, where all was insincerity
+and selfishness. I looked, but saw not in her youthful eye and
+unfurrowed cheeks any traces of the sorrow and ill-usage that I thought
+should alone have wrung from gentle lips so harsh a sentence, and I
+wondered where in twenty brief years she could have learned so hard a
+lesson. Have known it, she could not! therefore I concluded she had
+taken it upon trust from the poets, who are fain to tell all the ill
+they can of human nature, because it makes better poetry than good.
+
+The remark was taken up, as might have been expected, by a young
+champion, who thought, or said without thinking, that friendship was--I
+really cannot undertake to say what, but all the things that young
+ladies usually put into their themes at school: something interminable,
+illimitable, and immutable. From this the discussion grew; and how it
+was, and what it was, went on to be discussed. I cannot pursue the
+thread of the discourse; but the amount of it was this:--One thought
+friendship was the summer portion only of the blessed; a flower for the
+brow of the prosperous, that the child of misfortune must never gather.
+Another thought that all interest being destructive to its very essence,
+it could not be trusted, unless there was an utter destitution of every
+thing that might recommend us to favor, or requite affection. This lady
+must have been brought to the depth of wretchedness ere she ever could
+be sure she had a friend. Some, I found, thought it was made up of a
+great deal of sensibility, vulgarly called jealousy; that was, to take
+umbrage at every seeming slight, to the indescribable torment of either
+party. Some betrayed, if they did not exactly say it, that they thought
+friendship such an absolute unity, that it would be a less crime to
+worship two gods than to love two friends! Therefore, to bring it to its
+perfection, it was necessary that all beside should be despised and
+disregarded.
+
+Others, very young, and of course soon to grow wiser, thought it
+consisted in the exact disclosure of your own concerns and those of
+every body else with which you might chance to become acquainted;
+others, that it required such exact conformity in opinion, thought, and
+feeling, as should make it impossible to differ; and others, that it
+implied such generous interference, even with the feelings as well as
+affairs of its object, that it should spend itself in disinterested
+reproaches and unasked advice. But, however differing else, all were
+sure that friendship but usurped the name, unless it were purely
+disinterested, endlessly durable, and beyond the reach of time and
+circumstances to change it; and all were going forth in the full
+certainty of finding friends, each one after the pattern of her own
+imagination, the first speaker only excepted, who was fully determined
+never to find any, or never to trust them, if she did.
+
+I marked, with pained attention, the warm glow of expectation so soon to
+be blighted; and, reflected deeply on the many heart-aches with which
+they must unlearn their errors. I saw that each one was likely to pass
+over and reject the richest blessing of earth, even in the very pursuing
+of it, from having merely sketched, in imagination, an unresembling
+portrait of the object of pursuit. "When friendship meets them," I said,
+"they will not know her. Can no one draw for them a better likeness?"
+
+It is the language of books, and the language of society, that friends
+are inconstant, and friendship but little to be depended on; and the
+belief, where it is really received, goes far to make a truth of that
+which else were false, by creating what it suspects. Few of us but have
+lived already long enough to know the bitterness of being disappointed
+in our affections, and deceived in our calculations by those with whom,
+in the various relationships of life, we are brought in contact. Perhaps
+the aggregate of pain from this cause is greater than from any other
+cause whatever. And yet, it is much to be doubted whether nearly the
+whole of this suffering does not arise from our own unreasonable and
+mistaken expectations. There are none so unfortunate but they meet with
+some kindness in the world; and none, I believe, so fortunate but that
+they meet with much less than they might do, were it not their own
+fault.
+
+In the first place, we are mistaken in our expectations that friendship
+should be disinterested. It neither is, nor can be. It may be so in
+action, but never in the sentiment; there is always an equivalent to be
+returned. And if we examine the movements of our own hearts, we must be
+sure this is the case; and yet, we are so unreasonable as to expect our
+friends should be purely disinterested; and, after having secured their
+affections, we neglect to pay the price, and expect they should be
+continued to us for nothing. We grow careless of pleasing them;
+inconsiderate of their feelings, and heedless of the government of our
+own temper towards them; and then we complain of inconstancy, if they
+like us not so well as when dressed out in our best for the reception of
+their favor. Yet it is, in fact, we that are changed, not they.
+
+Another fruitful source of disappointment in our attachments is, that
+while we are much more quick in detecting the faults of others than our
+own, we absurdly require that every one should be faultless but
+ourselves. We do not say that we expect this in our friends; but we do
+expect it, and our conduct proves that we expect it. We begin also with
+believing it. The obscurities of distance; the vail that the proprieties
+of society casts over nature's deformities; the dazzling glitter of
+exterior qualities baffle, for a time, our most penetrating glances, and
+the imperfect vision seems all that we should have it. Our inexperienced
+hearts, and some indeed that should be better taught, fondly believe it
+to be all it seems, and begin their attachment in full hope to find it
+so. What wonder then that the bitterest disappointment should ensue,
+when, on more close acquaintance, we find them full of imperfections,
+perhaps of most glaring faults; and we begin to express disgust,
+sometimes even resentment, that they are not what we took them for.
+
+But was this their fault, or ours? Did they not present themselves to us
+in the garb of mortal flesh?--and do we not know that mortals are
+imperfect?--that, however the outside be fair, the interior is corrupt,
+and sometimes vile? He who knows all, alone knows how corrupt it is! the
+heart itself, enlightened by His grace, is more deeply in the secret
+than any without can be; but if the thing we love be mortal, something
+of it we must perceive; and more and more of it we must perceive as we
+look closer. If this is to disappoint and revolt us, and draw harsh
+reproaches and bitter recriminations from our lips, there is but One on
+whom we can fix our hearts with safety; and He is one, alas! we show so
+little disposition to love, as proves that, with all our complainings
+and bewailings of each others' faultiness, our friends are as good as
+will, at present, suit us.
+
+But are we, therefore, to say there is no such thing as friendship, or
+that it is not worth seeking? morosely repel it, or suspiciously
+distrust it? If we do, we shall pay our folly's price in the forfeiture
+of that, without which, however we may pretend, we never are or can be
+happy; preferring to go without the very greatest of all earthly good,
+because it is not what, perhaps, it may be in heaven. Rather than this,
+it would be wise so to moderate our expectation, and adapt our conduct,
+as to gain of it a greater measure, or, as far as may be possible, to
+gather of its flowers without exposing ourselves to be wounded by the
+thorns it bears. This is only to be done by setting out in life with
+juster feelings and fairer expectations.
+
+It is not true, that friends are few and kindness rare. No one ever
+needed friends, and deserved them, and found them not; but we do not
+know them when we see them, or deal with them justly when we have them.
+We must allow others to be as variable, and imperfect, and faulty, as
+ourselves. We do not wish our readers to love their friends less, but to
+love them as what they are, rather than as what they wish them to be;
+and instead of the jealous pertinacity that is wounded by every
+appearance of change, and disgusted by every detection of a fault, and
+ready to distrust and cast away the kindest friends on every trifling
+difference of behavior and feeling, to cultivate a moderation in their
+demands; a patient allowance for the effect of time and circumstance; an
+indulgence towards peculiarities of temper and character; and, above
+all, such a close examination of what passes in their own hearts, as
+will teach them better to understand and excuse what they detect in the
+hearts of others; ever remembering that all things on earth are earthly;
+and therefore changeful, perishable, and uncertain.
+
+
+
+
+KINDRED HEARTS.
+
+
+    Oh! ask not, hope thou not too much
+      Of sympathy below;
+    Few are the hearts whence one same touch,
+      Bids the same fountain flow;
+    Few, and by still conflicting powers
+      Forbidden here to meet,
+    Such ties would make this life of ours
+      Too fair for aught so fleet.
+
+    It may be that thy brother's eye
+      Sees not as thine, which turns,
+    In such deep reverence, to the sky
+      Where the rich sunset burns;
+    It may be that the breath of spring,
+      Born amidst violets lone,
+    A rapture o'er thy soul can bring,
+      A dream to his unknown.
+
+    The tune that speaks of other times--
+      A sorrowful delight!
+    The melody of distant chimes;
+      The sound of waves by night;
+    The wind that with so many a tone
+      Some cord within can thrill;
+    These may have language all thine own,
+      To _him_ a mystery still.
+
+    Yet scorn thou not for this the true
+      And steadfast love of years;
+    The kindly, that from childhood grew,
+      The faithful to thy tears!
+    If there be one that o'er the dead
+      Hath in thy grief borne part,
+    And watched through sickness by thy bed,
+      Call _his_ a kindred heart.
+
+    But for those bonds, all perfect made,
+      Wherein bright spirits blend,
+    Like sister flowers of one sweet shade,
+      With the same breeze that bend;
+    For that full bliss of thought allied,
+      Never to mortals given,--
+    Oh! lay thy lovely dreams aside,
+      Or lift them unto heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CONVERSATION.
+
+
+Good conversation is one of the highest attainments of civilized
+society. It is the readiest way in which gifted minds exert their
+influence, and, as such, is worthy of all consideration and cultivation.
+I remember hearing an English traveler say, many years ago, on being
+asked how the conversational powers of the Americans compared with those
+of the English--"Your fluency rather exceeds that of the old world, but
+conversation here is not cultivated as an art." The idea of its being so
+considered any where was new to the company; and much discussion
+followed the departure of the stranger, as to the desirableness of
+making conversation an art. Some thought the more natural and
+spontaneous it was, the better; some confounded art with artifice, and
+hoped their countrymen would never leave their own plain, honest way of
+talking, to become adepts in hypocrisy and affectation. At last one, a
+little wiser than the rest, explained the difference between art and
+artifice; asked the cavilers if they had never heard of the art of
+writing, or the art of thinking? and said he presumed the art of
+conversing was of the same nature. And so it is. By this art, persons
+are taught to arrange their ideas methodically, and to express them with
+clearness and force; thus saving much precious time, and avoiding those
+tedious narrations which interest no one but the speaker. It enforces
+the necessity of observing the effect of what is said, and leads a
+talker to stop when she finds that she has ceased to fix the attention
+of her audience.
+
+Some persons seem to forget that mere talking is not conversing; that it
+requires two to make a conversation, and that each must be in turn a
+listener; but no one can be an agreeable companion who is not as willing
+to listen as to talk. Selfishness shows itself in this, as in a thousand
+other ways. One who is always full of herself, and who thinks nothing so
+important as what she thinks, and says, and does, will be apt to engross
+more than her share of the talk, even when in the company of those she
+loves.
+
+There are situations, however, wherein it is a kindness to be the chief
+talker: as when a young lady is the eldest of the party, and has seen
+something, or been in some place, the description of which is desired by
+all around her. If your mind is alive to the wishes and claims of
+others, you will easily perceive when it is a virtue to talk and when to
+be silent. It is undue pre-occupation with self which blinds people, and
+prevents their seeing what the occasion requires.
+
+Sometimes the most kind and sympathizing person will not do justice to
+her nature, but will appear to be cold and inattentive, because she
+does not know that it is necessary to give some sign that she is
+attending to what is addressed to her. She averts her eye from the
+speaker, and listens in such profound silence, and with a countenance so
+immovable, that no one could suppose her to be at all interested by what
+she is hearing. This is very discouraging to the speaker and very
+impolite. Good manners require that you should look at the person who
+speaks to you, and that you should put in a word, or a look, from time
+to time, that will indicate your interest in the narrative. A few
+interjections, happily thrown in by the hearer, are a great comfort and
+stimulus to the speaker; and one who has always been accustomed to this
+evidence of sympathy, or comprehension, in their friends, feels, when
+listened to without it, as if she were talking to a dead wall.
+
+For the encouragement of those who feel themselves deficient in
+conversational powers, we will subjoin a notice of the lately-deceased
+wife of a clergyman in this state:
+
+"I saw and felt, when with her, as few others have ever made me feel,
+the power and uses of conversation. With her it was always promotive of
+intellectual and moral life. And here let me inform you, for the
+encouragement of those who may be thinking they would gladly do as she
+did in society, if they were able, that when I first knew Mrs. B., her
+powers of conversation were very small. She was embarrassed whenever she
+attempted to convey her thoughts to others. She labored for expression
+so much, that it was sometimes painful to hear her. Still, her social,
+affectionate nature longed for communion with other minds and hearts, on
+all subjects of deepest import. Her persevering efforts at length
+prevailed, and her ardent love of truth gave her utterance: yes, an
+utterance that often delighted, and sometimes surprised, those who heard
+her; a readiness and fluency that are seldom equalled. Learn, then, from
+her, my friends, to _exercise_ your faculties, whatever they may be. In
+this way only can you improve, or even retain them. If you have but one
+talent of any sort, it may not, with impunity to itself--it may not,
+without sin to you--be wrapped in a napkin. And sigh not for higher
+powers or opportunities, until you have fully and faithfully exercised
+and improved such as you have. Nor can you know what you possess until
+you have called them into action."
+
+
+
+
+EXAGGERATION.
+
+
+It is a great mistake to suppose that exaggeration makes a person more
+agreeable, or that it adds to the importance of her statements. The
+value of a person's words is determined by her habitual use of them. "I
+like it much," "It is well done," will mean as much in some mouths, as
+"I am infinitely delighted with it," "'Tis the most exquisite thing I
+ever saw," will in others. Such large abatements are necessarily made
+for the statements of these romancers, that they really gain nothing in
+the end, but find it difficult sometimes to gain credence for so much as
+is really true; whereas, a person who is habitually sober and
+discriminating in his use of language, will not only inspire confidence,
+but be able to produce a fine effect by the occasional use of a
+superlative.
+
+Fidelity and exactness are indispensable in a narrative, and the habit
+of exaggerating destroys the power of accurate observation and
+recollection which would render the story truly interesting. If, instead
+of trying to embellish her account with the fruits of her imagination, a
+young lady possessed the power of seizing upon the points best worth
+describing, and could give an exact account of them, she would be far
+more entertaining than any exaggeration could make her; for there is no
+romance like that of real life, and no imaginings of an inexperienced
+girl can equal in piquancy the scenes and characters that are every day
+presented to our view. Extravagant expressions are sometimes resorted to
+in order to atone for deficiencies of memory and observation; but they
+will never hide such defects; and an habitual use of them lowers the
+tone of the mind, and leads to other deviations from the simplicity of
+truth and nature.
+
+Another way of falsifying a narrative, is by taking for granted what you
+do not know, and speaking of it as if you did. This jumping at
+conclusions is a fruitful source of false reports, and does great
+mischief in the world. Let no one imagine that she is walking
+conscientiously, who is not in the habit of discriminating nicely
+between what she knows to be fact and what she only supposes to be such.
+
+The frequent use of some favorite word, or phrase, is a common defect in
+conversation, and can only be guarded against by asking your friends to
+point it out to you, whenever they observe such a habit; for your own
+ear, having become accustomed to it, may not detect it. Some persons
+apply the epithets _glorious_ or _splendid_ to all sorts of objects
+indiscriminately, from a gorgeous sunset to a good dinner.
+
+A young lady once tried to describe a pic-nic party to me in the
+following terms: "There were ten of us--four on horseback and the rest
+in carriages. We set off at a _glorious_ rate, and had a _splendid_ time
+in getting there; I rode the most _elegant_, perfect creature you ever
+beheld, and capered along _gloriously_. When we all got there, we walked
+about in the woods, and gathered the most _splendid_ flowers, and dined
+under the shade of a _glorious_ old elm-tree. We had our cold provisions
+spread out on the grass, and every thing was _elegant_. We had
+_glorious_ appetites, too, and the ham and ale were _splendid_, and put
+us all in fine spirits. Some of the gentlemen sang funny songs; but one
+sang such a dreadfully sentimental one, and to such a horrid doleful
+tune, it made us all miserable. So then we broke up, and had a
+_splendid_ time packing away the things; such fun! I had almost killed
+myself with laughing, and we broke half the things. But the ride home
+was the most _splendid_ of all; we arrived at the top of the hill just
+in time to see the most _glorious_ sunset I ever beheld!"
+
+In this short account, the word "glorious" is used five times, and in
+all but the last, it is grossly misapplied. The same is the case with
+the word "splendid," except that it is not once used properly.
+"Elegant," too, is equally inapplicable to horses and cold provisions.
+Yet this style of conversing is so common, that it hardly arrests the
+attention of many, who nevertheless would condemn it at once, if they
+thought at all about it.
+
+
+
+
+EGOTISM.
+
+
+Has it ever happened to any but myself, to listen to I, I, I, in
+conversation, till, wearied with the monotony of the sound, I was fain
+to quarrel with the useful little word, and almost wish I could portray
+its hydra head, and present it in a mirror to my oracles, that they
+might turn away disgusted for ever with its hideous form.
+
+I took up my abode for some time with a lady, whose habits of
+benevolence were extensive, and of whose true philanthropy of heart I
+had heard much. I expected to follow her to the alms-house, the
+hospital, and the garret, and I was not disappointed. Thither she went,
+and for purposes the kindest and most noble. She relieved their pressing
+wants; ministered consolation in the kindest tone; and gave religious
+instruction wherever needed. But, then, she kept a strict calendar of
+all these pious visitings; and that, too, for the entertainment of her
+company. All were called upon to hear the history of the appalling
+scenes she had witnessed; the tears of gratitude that had fallen on her
+hands; the prayers--half articulate--that had been offered for her by
+the dying; and to hear her attestations of disregard to the opposition
+she had to encounter in these her labors of love. Who, with such an
+appeal, could withhold their commendations? I, therefore, of course, as
+I listened again and again to the same tale to different auditors, heard
+many pretty complimentary speeches about magnanimity, &c.; and, getting
+somewhat weary, I drew nearer to the lady's guests, till I actually
+thought I heard from one--he was a clergyman, I believe--an inward
+whisper that he would like to refer his friend to the four first verses
+of the sixth chapter of Matthew, but that it would be impolite. If my
+listening powers were too acute when I heard this, let me turn monitor
+at once, and assure my young friends, if they would have their
+conversation listened to with pleasure, they must be economists with
+_self_ as their subject.
+
+On behalf of the very young, we certainly have it to plead, that they
+know very little of any thing but what is, in some sense, their own. If
+they talk of persons, it must be their parents, their brothers and
+sisters, because they are the only people they know; if they talk of any
+body's affairs, it must be their own, because they are acquainted with
+no other; if of events, it must be what happens to themselves, for they
+hear nothing of what happens to any body else. As soon, therefore, as
+children begin to converse, it is most likely to be about themselves, or
+something that belongs to them; and to the rapid growing of this
+unwatched habit, may probably be attributed the ridiculous and offensive
+egotism of many persons in conversation, who, in conduct, prove that
+their feelings and affections are by no means self-engrossed. But the
+more indigenous this unsightly weed, the more need is there to prevent
+its growth. It has many varieties; the leaf is not always of the same
+shape, nor the flower of the same color, but they are all of one genus;
+and our readers who are botanists will have no difficulty in detecting
+them, however much affected by the soil they grow in. The _I's_ and
+_my's_ a lady exhibits in conversation, will bear such analogy to her
+character, as the wares on the stall of the bazaar bear to the trade of
+the vender. Or, if she have a great deal of what is called tact, she
+will, perhaps, vary the article according to the demands of the market.
+In fashionable life, it will be _my_ cousin Sir Ralph, _my_ father the
+Earl, and _my_ great uncle the Duke; the living relatives and the
+departed fathers; the halls of her family, their rent-rolls, or their
+graves, will afford abundant materials for any conversation she may have
+to furnish.
+
+Among those who, having gotten into the world they know not how, are
+determined it shall, at least, be known that they are there, it is _my_
+houses, _my_ servants, _my_ park, _my_ gardens; or, if the lady be too
+young to claim in her own behalf, _my_ father's houses, &c., &c., will
+answer all the purpose. But, happily for the supply of this kind of
+talk, rank and wealth, though very useful, are not necessary to it.
+Without any ostentation whatever, but merely from the habit of occupying
+themselves with their own individuality, some will let the company
+choose the subject; but, be it what it may, all they have to say upon it
+is the _I_, or the _my_. Books, travel, sorrow, sickness, nature, art,
+no matter, it is _I_ have seen, _I_ have done, _I_ have been, _I_ have
+learned, _I_ have suffered, _I_ have known. Whatever it be to others,
+the _I_ is the subject for them; for they tell you nothing of the matter
+but their own concern with it. For example, let the city of Naples be
+spoken of: one will tell you what is seen there--what is done
+there--what happens there--and making her reflections on all without
+naming herself; you will only perceive, by her knowledge and remarks,
+that she has been in Naples. Another will tell you how she came there,
+and why she went, and how long she staid, and what she did, and what she
+saw; and the things themselves will appear but as incidents to the idea
+of self.
+
+Some ladies I have known, who, not content with the present display of
+their powers, are determined to re-sell their wares at second-hand. They
+tell you all the witty things they said to somebody yesterday, and the
+wise remarks they made to a certain company last night. _I_ said--_I_
+remarked. The commodity should be valuable indeed to be thus brought to
+market a second time. Others there are, who, under pretext of
+confidence--little complimentary when shown alike to all--pester people
+with their own affairs. Before you have been two hours in their company,
+you are introduced to all their family, and to all their family's
+concerns, pecuniary affairs, domestic secrets, and personal feelings--a
+sort of bird's-eye view of every thing that belongs to them--past,
+present, and to come; and woe to the secrets of those who may chance to
+have been in connection with these egotists; in such a view, you must
+needs see ten miles around.
+
+There is an egotism, of which we must speak more seriously. Faults, that
+in the world we laugh at, when they attain the dignity and purity of
+sacred things, become matter of serious regret. I speak nothing further
+of the ostentatious display of pious and benevolent exertion. We live at
+a time when religion, its deepest and dearest interests, have become a
+subject of general conversation. We would have it so; but we mark, with
+regret, that self has introduced itself here. The heartless
+loquacity--we must say heartless, for, in a matter of such deep
+interest, facility of speech bespeaks the feelings light--the
+unshrinking jabber with which people tell you their soul's
+history--their past impressions and present difficulties--their
+doctrines and their doubts--their manifestations and their
+experiences--not in the ear of confidence, to have those doubts removed
+and those doctrines verified; not in the ear of anxious inquiry, to
+communicate knowledge and give encouragement, but any where, in any
+company, and to any body who will listen, the _I_ felt--_I_ thought--_I_
+experienced. Sorrows that, if real, should blanch the cheek to think
+upon; mercies that enwrap all hearers in amazement, they will tell as
+unconcernedly as the adventures of the morning. The voice falters not;
+the color changes not; the eye moistens not. And to what purpose all
+this personality? To get good, or do good? By no means; but that,
+whatever subject they look upon, they always see themselves in the
+foreground of the picture, with every minute particular swelled into
+importance, while all besides is merged in indistinctness.
+
+We may be assured there is nothing so ill-bred, so annoying, so little
+entertaining, so absolutely impertinent, as this habit of talking always
+with reference to ourselves; for every body has a self of their own, to
+which they attach as much importance as we to ours, and see all others'
+matters small in the comparison. The lady of rank has her castles and
+her ancestors--they are the foreground of her picture. There they stood
+when she came into being; and there they are still, in all the magnitude
+of near perspective; and, if her estimate of their real size be not
+corrected by experience and good sense, she expects that others will see
+them as large as she does. But that will not be so. The lady of wealth
+has gotten her houses and lands in the foreground. These are the larger
+features in her landscape; titles and the castles are seen at a smaller
+angle. Neither lady will admire the proportions of her neighbor's
+drawing, should they chance to discover themselves in each other's
+conversation. She, again--whether rich or poor--whose world is her own
+domesticity, sees nothing so prominent as the affairs of her nursery or
+her household; and perceives not that, in the eyes of others, her
+children are a set of diminutives, undistinguishable in the mass of
+humanity, in which that they ever existed, or that they cease to exist,
+is matter of equal indifference.
+
+It is thus, that each one attributes to the objects around him, not
+their true and actual proportion, but a magnitude proportioned to their
+nearness to himself. We say not that he draws ill who does so: for, to
+each one, things are important, more or less, in proportion to his own
+interest in them. But hence is the mischief. We forget that every one
+has a self of his own; and that the constant setting forth of ours is,
+to others, preposterous, obtrusive, and ridiculous. The painter who
+draws a folio in the front of his picture, and a castle in the distance,
+properly draws the book the larger of the two: but he must be a fool, if
+he therefore thinks the folio is the larger, and expects every body else
+to think so too. Yet, nothing wiser are we, when we suffer ourselves to
+be perpetually pointing to ourselves, our affairs, and our possessions,
+as if they were as interesting to others as they are important to us.
+
+
+
+
+GENTLENESS.
+
+
+Nothing is so likely to conciliate the affections of the other sex, as a
+feeling that woman looks to them for support and guidance. In proportion
+as men are themselves superior, they are as accessible to this appeal.
+On the contrary, they never feel interested in one who seems disposed
+rather to offer than to ask assistance. There is, indeed, something
+unfeminine in independence. It is contrary to nature and, therefore, it
+offends. We do not like to see a woman affecting tremors, but still less
+do we like to see her acting the Amazon. A really sensible woman feels
+her dependence; she does what she can, but she is conscious of
+inferiority, and, therefore, grateful for support; she knows that she is
+the weaker vessel, and that, as such, she should receive honor.
+
+In every thing, therefore, that women attempt, they should show their
+consciousness of dependence. If they are learners, let them evince a
+teachable spirit; if they give an opinion, let them do it in an
+unassuming manner. There is something so unpleasant in female
+self-sufficiency, that it not unfrequently deters, instead of
+persuading, and prevents the adoption of advice which the judgment even
+approves. Yet this is a fault into which women, of certain pretensions,
+are occasionally betrayed. Age, or experience, or superior endowment,
+entitles them, they imagine, to assume a higher place and a more
+independent tone. But their sex should ever teach them to be
+subordinate; and they should remember that influence is obtained, not by
+assumption, but by a delicate appeal to affection or principle. Women,
+in this respect, are something like children; the more they show their
+need of support, the more engaging they are.
+
+The appropriate expression of dependence is gentleness. However endowed
+with superior talents a woman may be, without gentleness she cannot be
+agreeable. Gentleness ought to be the characteristic of the sex; and
+there is nothing that can compensate for the want of this feminine
+attraction.
+
+Gentleness is, indeed, the talisman of woman. To interest the feelings
+is to her much easier than to convince the judgment; the heart is far
+more accessible to her influence than the head. She never gains so much
+as by concession; and is never so likely to overcome, as when she seems
+to yield.
+
+Gentleness prepossesses at first sight; it insinuates itself into the
+vantage ground, and gains the best position by surprise. While a display
+of skill and strength calls forth a counter array, gentleness, at once,
+disarms opposition, and wins the day before it is contested.
+
+
+
+
+SISTERLY VIRTUES.
+
+
+Sisterly affection is as graceful in its developments to the eye of the
+beholder, as it is cheering to the heart where it resides. There are
+some who, though not deficient in its more important duties, are but too
+regardless of those lesser demonstrations of attachment, which are so
+soothing to the susceptible heart. Every delicate attention which
+tenderness prompts; every mark of politeness which refined society
+requires, ought to pervade the intercourse of brothers and sisters. It
+is a mistake that good manners are to be reserved for visitors, and
+that, in the family circle, negligence and coarseness may be indulged
+with impunity. Even nature's affections may be undermined or shaken by
+perseverance in an improper deportment, more than by lapses into error
+and folly. For the latter, repentance may atone, while the former check
+the flow of the heart's warm fountains, until they stagnate or become
+congealed.
+
+I knew a father, himself a model of polished manners, who required of
+his large family to treat each other, at all times, with the same
+politeness that they felt was due to their most distinguished guest.
+Rudeness, neglect, or indifference were never tolerated in their circle.
+Respect to each other's opinion; a disposition to please and be
+pleased; care in dress, and courtesy of manner, were not considered
+thrown away, if bestowed on a brother or a sister. Every one of the
+group was instructed to bring amiable feelings and powers of
+entertainment to their own fire side. The result was happy. The brothers
+felt it an honor to wait upon their sisters, and the sisters a pleasure
+to do all in their power for the comfort and improvement of their
+brothers. This daily practice of every decorum, imparted to their
+manners an enduring grace, while the affections, which Heaven implanted,
+seemed to gather strength from the beauty of their interchange. I would
+not assert that fraternal or sisterly affection may not be deep and
+pervading without such an exterior, yet it is surely rendered more
+lovely by it; as the planets might pursue in darkness the order of their
+course, but it is their brilliance which reveals and embellishes it.
+
+Every well-regulated family might be as a perpetual school. The younger
+members, witnessing the example of those whose excellence is more
+confirmed, will be led, by the principle of imitation, more effectually,
+than by the whole force of foreign precept. The custom of the older
+daughters, to assist in the education of their less advanced sisters, I
+rejoice to see, is becoming more common. It cannot be too highly
+applauded. What should prevent their assuming the systematic office of
+instructors, when circumstances are favorable to such an arrangement.
+
+By what method can a daughter more fully evince her gratitude to her
+parents, than by aiding their children in the search of knowledge and of
+goodness. How amiable, how praiseworthy, is that disposition which
+prompts a young and beautiful creature to come forth as the ally of a
+mother, in that most overwhelming of all anxieties, so to train her
+little ones as to form at last an unbroken family in heaven. No better
+apprenticeship could be devised, and no firmer hostage given to God or
+man for its faithful performance.
+
+
+
+
+HOME.
+
+
+    Where burns the lov'd hearth brightest,
+      Cheering the social breast?
+    Where beats the fond heart lightest,
+      Its humble hopes possess'd?
+    Where is the smile of sadness,
+      Of meek-eyed patience born,
+    Worth more than those of gladness,
+      Which mirth's bright cheek adorn?
+    Pleasure is marked by fleetness,
+      To those who ever roam;
+    While grief itself has sweetness
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    There blend the ties that strengthen
+      Our hearts in hours of grief;
+    The silver links that lengthen
+      Joy's visits when most brief;
+    There eyes, in all their splendor,
+      Are vocal to the heart,
+    And glances, gay or tender,
+      Fresh eloquence impart;
+    Then, dost thou sigh for pleasure?
+      O! do not widely roam,
+    But seek that hidden treasure
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    Does pure religion charm thee
+      Far more than aught below?
+    Would'st thou that she should arm thee
+      Against the hour of woe?
+    Think not she dwelleth only
+      In temples built for prayer;
+    For home itself is lonely,
+      Unless her smiles be there;
+    The devotee may falter,
+      The bigot blindly roam,
+    If worshipless her altar
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    Love over it presideth,
+      With meek and watchful awe,
+    Its daily service guideth,
+      And shows its perfect law?
+    If there thy faith shall fail thee,
+      If there no shrine be found,
+    What can thy prayers avail thee
+      With kneeling crowds around?
+    Go! leave thy gift unoffered
+      Beneath religion's dome,
+    And be thy first fruits proffered
+      At home! dear home!
+
+
+
+
+FIRESIDE INFLUENCE.
+
+
+Is it not true that parents are the lawgivers of their children? Does
+not a mother's counsel--does not a father's example--cling to the
+memory, and haunt us through life? Do we not often find ourselves
+subject to habitual trains of thought? and, if we seek to discover the
+origin of these, are we not insensibly led back, by some beaten and
+familiar track, to the paternal threshold? Do we not often discover some
+home-chiseled grooves in our minds, into which the intellectual
+machinery seems to slide, as by a sort of necessity? Is it not, in
+short, a proverbial truth, that the controlling lessons of life are
+given beneath the parental roof? We know, indeed, that wayward passions
+spring up in early life, and, urging us to set authority at defiance,
+seek to obtain the mastery of the heart. But, though struggling for
+liberty and license, the child is shaped and molded by the parent. The
+stream that bursts from the fountain, and seems to rush forward headlong
+and self-willed, still turns hither and thither, according to the shape
+of its mother-earth over which it flows. If an obstacle is thrown across
+its path, it gathers strength, breaks away the barrier, and again bounds
+forward. It turns, and winds, and proceeds on its course, till it
+reaches its destiny in the sea. But, in all this, it has shaped its
+course and followed out its career, from babbling infancy at the
+fountain to its termination in the great reservoir of waters, according
+to the channel which its parent earth has provided. Such is the
+influence of a parent over his child. It has within itself a will, and
+at its bidding it goes forward, but the parent marks out its track. He
+may not stop its progress, but he may guide its course. He may not throw
+a dam across its path, and say to it, hitherto mayest thou go, and no
+farther; but he may turn it through safe, and gentle, and useful
+courses--or he may leave it to plunge over wild cataracts, or lose
+itself in some sandy desert, or collect its strength into a torrent, but
+to spread ruin and desolation along its borders.
+
+The fireside, then, is a seminary of infinite importance: it is
+important, because it is universal, and because the education it
+bestows, being woven in with the woof of childhood, gives form and color
+to the whole texture of life. There are few who can receive the honors
+of a college, but all are graduates of the hearth. The learning of the
+university may fade from the recollection, its classic lore may molder
+in the halls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, enameled upon
+the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more
+mature but less vivid pictures of after days. So deep, so lasting,
+indeed, are the impressions of early life, that we often see a man, in
+the imbecility of age, holding fresh in his recollection the events of
+childhood, while all the wide space between that and the present hour is
+a blasted and forgotten waste. You have perchance seen an old and
+half-obliterated portrait, and, in the attempt to have it cleaned and
+restored, may have seen it fade away, while a brighter and more perfect
+picture, painted beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, first
+drawn upon the canvas, is no inapt illustration of youth; and, though
+it may be concealed by some after-design, still the original traits will
+shine through the outward picture, giving it tone while fresh, and
+surviving it in decay. Such is the fireside--the great institution
+furnished by Providence for the education of man.
+
+
+
+
+PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
+
+
+THE TEETH.
+
+The prevalence of defective teeth in this country is the general subject
+of remark by foreigners; and whoever has traveled in Spain and Portugal
+is struck with the superior soundness and whiteness of teeth in those
+countries. Though not a cleanly people in other respects, they wash
+their teeth often, and, by means of toothpicks, carefully remove all
+substances from between them after meals. A little silver porcupine,
+with holes all over its back to insert toothpicks, is a common ornament
+on the dining tables of Spain and Portugal. The general use of them
+creates so large a demand, that students at Coimbra sometimes support
+themselves by whittling toothpicks, which are sold tied in small bunches
+like matches. They are made of willow, on account of its toughness and
+pliability. Toothpicks of metal are too hard, and are apt to injure the
+gums. There is the same objection, in a less degree, to quills. But
+willow toothpicks are preferable to all others; and they have the
+advantage of being the most cleanly, for they generally break in the
+using, and are thrown away. Few sights are more offensive to a person
+of any refinement than a toothpick that has been much used; it is,
+moreover, uncleanly, and therefore not healthy for the teeth. Food
+allowed to remain between the teeth, particularly animal food, is very
+destructive: it should be carefully removed after every meal, and the
+mouth thoroughly rinsed. This may seem to some like a great talk about a
+small matter; but these are simple precautions to take, and very slight
+trouble compared with the agony of aching teeth, or a breath so
+offensive that your best friend does not wish to sit near you. I can see
+no reason why a man's complexion should exclude him from the
+dining-table, but I do see a very good reason why he should be banished
+for not taking proper care of his teeth. A bad breath is such a
+detestable thing, that it might be a sufficient reason for not marrying
+a person of otherwise agreeable qualities. It is, moreover, perfectly
+inexcusable thus to transform oneself into a walking sepulchre. Nobody
+needs to have an offensive breath. A careful removal of substances from
+between the teeth, rinsing the mouth after meals, and a bit of charcoal
+held in the mouth, will _always_ cure a bad breath. Charcoal, used as a
+dentifrice--that is, rubbed on in powder with a brush--is apt to injure
+the enamel; but a lump of it, held in the mouth, two or three times in a
+week, and slowly chewed, has a wonderful power to preserve the teeth and
+purify the breath. The action is purely chemical. It counteracts the
+acid arising from a disordered stomach, or food decaying about the
+gums; and it is the acid which destroys the teeth.
+
+Every one knows that charcoal is an antiputrescent, and is used in
+boxing up animal or vegetable substances, to keep them from decay. Upon
+the same chemical principle, it tends to preserve the teeth and sweeten
+the breath. There is no danger from swallowing it; on the contrary,
+small quantities have a healthful effect on the inward system,
+particularly when the body is suffering from that class of complaints
+peculiarly incident to summer. It would not be wise to swallow that or
+any other gritty substance, in large quantities, or very frequently;
+but, once or twice a week, a little would be salutary, rather than
+otherwise. A bit of charcoal, as big as a cherry, merely held in the
+mouth a few hours, without chewing, has a good effect. At first, most
+persons dislike to chew it, but use soon renders it far from
+disagreeable. Those who are troubled with an offensive breath might chew
+it very often and swallow it but seldom. It is particularly important to
+clean and rinse the mouth thoroughly before going to bed; otherwise a
+great deal of the destructive acid will form during the night.
+
+If these hints induce only _one_ person to take better care of the
+teeth, I shall be more than rewarded for the trouble of writing. It is
+painful to see young persons losing their teeth merely for want of a few
+simple precautions; and one cannot enter stage or steam-car without
+finding the atmosphere polluted, and rendered absolutely unhealthy for
+the lungs to breathe, when a proper use of water and charcoal might
+render it as wholesome and pleasant as a breeze of Eden.
+
+
+THE HAIR.
+
+No part of the human frame offers a finer subject for the display of
+decorative taste and elegance than the hair:--the countenance, the
+contour of the head, and even the whole person, may be said to be
+greatly affected by its arrangement and dress. As the possession of fine
+hair is peculiarly prized, so is its loss proportionally felt.
+
+Like every other portion of the human frame, the use of _water_ to the
+hair is absolutely essential to its health, as it tends to relieve the
+secretions and open the pores of the skin. The frequency of the use of
+water, however, should be guided by circumstances. It may be set down as
+a regulating principle, that the stronger and more healthy the hair may
+be, the more water may be used with propriety; by the same rule, when
+the hair is weak and thin, it should not be washed more than once
+a-week. At such times, _cold water_ alone should be used, when care
+should be taken to dry it well immediately after. Washing too often,
+dries up the requisite oily fluid that forms the nourishment of the
+hair.
+
+Some judgment is necessary in the choice of brushes. Two are necessary:
+a penetrating and a polishing brush; the one composed of strong, and
+the other of fine hair. The penetrating brush (especially that used by
+ladies) should be made of elastic hairs, rather inclining to irregular
+lengths. The other should be made of firm, soft, silken hair, thickly
+studded. Unfortunately, however, we cannot but observe that penetrating
+brushes are often selected, so harsh and strong, that they fret the skin
+of the head, and injure the roots, instead of gently and gradually
+effecting the object for which they were intended.
+
+Combs are merely used for the purpose of giving a form to the hair, and
+assisting in its decorative arrangement; to use them too often, is
+rather prejudicial than otherwise, as they injure the roots of the hair.
+Above all kinds, that of the small-toothed comb is the most injurious in
+this respect, as it not only inflames the tender skin, but, from the
+fineness of its teeth, splits and crushes the hairs in being passed
+through them. Persons must indeed be of very uncleanly habits, whose
+heads absolutely require the aid of this comb, as the brush alone
+sufficiently possesses the power of effectually cleaning the hair from
+scurf, dandriff, and dust, if constantly used.
+
+To persons whose hair is in a declining state, the frequent and regular
+use of oil or bear's grease is often of much service, as it is
+calculated to assist in supplying that nourishment which is so
+necessary. No oil perhaps has ever acquired a greater celebrity than
+Rowland's Macassar; for this reason we cannot but recommend it to the
+notice of our readers.
+
+One of the most pernicious methods of dressing the hair, at the expense
+of its health, is by curling. This not only dries up the moisture that
+circulates through the hairs, but the heat and compression thus used
+completely prevent proper circulation. When, however, the habit is
+persisted in, its ill effects may be much obviated by constantly
+brushing the hair well, and having it frequently cut, by which means the
+necessary circulation is kept up, and the roots invigorated.
+
+
+THE HANDS.
+
+"Why don't my hands look and feel as it would seem that the perfect
+Author of all things would have them?" How many a young man and woman
+have asked this question! and are troubled to know why it is that some
+persons have such bloodless hands, perfect nails, so free from
+hang-nails, as they are called, while their own hands look so much like
+duck's feet or bird's claws.
+
+All sorts of cosmetics, the most penetrating oils, rubbing and scouring
+the hands, paring and scraping the nails, and cutting round the roots of
+the nails, are resorted to, in hopes of making their hands appear
+natural; but all avails nothing, and many a poor hand is made to perform
+all its manipulations _incognito_. About the piano, in the social party,
+in the house, and in the street, the hand--the most exquisite, or what
+should be the most beautiful and useful part of the human frame--is
+_gloved_. And why? Because it is not fit to be seen.
+
+Now, reader, I am about to tell you of a positive cure. In the first
+place, never cut or scrape your finger-nails with a knife or scissors,
+except in paring them down to the end of the fingers. Secondly, use
+nothing but a good stiff nail-brush, fine soap, and water, and rub the
+nails and hands briskly with these every morning the _year round_. In
+the third place, I would have you know that surfeiting will invariably
+produce heavy, burning hands. An impure state of the blood will manifest
+itself in the hands sooner than in most other parts of the body. If you
+have bad hands, be assured that the quantity or quality, or both, of
+your diet is wrong.
+
+If you try to profit by these suggestions, you will, before one year
+expires, be no longer ashamed of your hands.
+
+
+
+
+DRESS.
+
+
+There are some rules, which, being based on first principles, are of
+universal application. And one of these belongs to our present subject,
+_viz:_ nothing can be truly beautiful which is not appropriate. Nature
+and the fine arts teach us this. All styles of dress, therefore, which
+impede the motions of the wearer--which do not sufficiently protect the
+person--which add unnecessarily to the heat of summer, or to the cold of
+winter--which do not suit the age or occupations of the wearer, or which
+indicate an expenditure unsuited to her means, are _inappropriate_, and,
+therefore, destitute of one of the essential elements of beauty.
+Propriety, or fitness, lies at the foundation of all good taste in
+dressing; and to this test should be brought a variety of particulars,
+too numerous to be mentioned, but which may be thus illustrated: The
+dress that would be very proper on occasion of a morning visit in a
+city, would be so out of place, if worn by the same person when making
+preserves or pastry, or when scrambling through the bushes in a country
+walk, that it would cease to look well. A simple calico gown and white
+apron would be so much more convenient and suitable, that the wearer
+would actually look better in them.
+
+Some persons, also, toil early and late, and strain every nerve to
+procure an expensive garment, and think that once arrayed in it, they
+shall look as well as some richer neighbor, whose style of dress they
+wish to imitate. But they forget that, if it does not accord with their
+general style of living--if it is out of harmony with other things, it
+will so strike every body; and this want of fitness will prevent its
+looking well on them.
+
+Let a true sense of propriety of the fitness of things regulate all your
+habits of living and dressing, and it will produce such a beautiful
+harmony and consistency of character, as to throw a charm around you
+that all may feel, though few may comprehend. Always consider well
+whether the articles of dress which you wish to purchase are suited to
+your age--your condition--your means--to the climate--to the particular
+use to which you mean to put them; and then let the principles of good
+taste keep you from the extremes of fashion; and regulate the form so as
+to combine utility and beauty, while the known rules of harmony in
+colors save you from shocking the eye of the artist by incongruous
+mixtures.
+
+The character is much more shown in the style of dress that is worn
+every day, than in that which is designed for great occasions; and when
+I see a young girl come down to the family breakfast in an untidy
+wrapper, with her hair in papers, her feet slip-shod, and an old silk
+handkerchief round her neck, I know that she cannot be the neat,
+industrious, and refined person whom I should like for an inmate. I feel
+equally certain, too, that her chamber is not kept in neat order, and
+that she does not set a proper value upon time. However well a lady has
+appeared at a party, I would recommend to a young gentleman--before he
+makes up his mind as to her domestic qualities--to observe her
+appearance at the breakfast-table, when she expects to see only her own
+family; and, if it be such as I have just described, to beware how he
+prosecutes the acquaintance.
+
+
+
+
+COMPRESSION OF THE LUNGS.
+
+
+Few circumstances are more injurious to beauty than the constrained
+movement, suffused complexion, and labored respiration that betray
+tight-lacing. The play of intelligence, and varied emotion, which throw
+such a charm over the brow of youth, are impeded by whatever obstructs
+the flow of blood from the heart to its many organs. In Greece, where
+the elements of beauty and grace were earliest comprehended, and most
+happily illustrated, the fine symmetry of the form was left untortured.
+
+But the influence of this habit on beauty is far less to be deprecated
+than its effects upon health. That pulmonary disease, affections of the
+heart, and insanity, are in its train, and that it leads some of our
+fairest and dearest to Fashion's shrine to die, is placed beyond a doubt
+by strong medical testimony.
+
+Dr. Mussey, whose "_Lectures on Intemperance_" have so forcibly arrested
+the attention of the public, asserts that "greater numbers annually die
+among the female sex, in consequence of tight-lacing, than are destroyed
+among the other sex by the use of spirituous liquors in the same time."
+Is it possible that thousands of our own sex, in our own native land,
+lay, with their own hand, the foundation of diseases that destroy
+life!--and are willing, for fashion's sake, to commit suicide!
+
+Dr. Todd, the late Principal of the Retreat for the Insane, in
+Connecticut, to whom science and philanthropy are indebted, adduces many
+instances of the fearful effects of obstructed circulation on the brain.
+Being requested by the instructress of a large female seminary to
+enforce on her pupils the evils of compression in dress, he said, with
+that eloquence of eye and soul, which none, who once felt their
+influence, can ever forget: "The whole course of your studies, my dear
+young ladies, conspires to impress you with reverence for antiquity.
+Especially do you turn to Greece for the purest models in the fine arts,
+and the loftiest precepts of philosophy. While sitting, as disciples, at
+the feet of her men of august minds, you may have sometimes doubted how
+to balance, or where to bestow your admiration. The acuteness of
+Aristotle--the purity of Plato--the calm, unrepented satisfaction of
+Socrates--the varied lore of Epicurus, and the lofty teachings of Zeno,
+have alternately attracted or absorbed your attention. Permit me to
+suppose, that the high-toned ethics of the Stoics, and their elevation
+of mind, which could teach its frail companion, the body, the proud
+lesson of insensibility to pain, have won your peculiar complaisance.
+Yet, while meting out to them the full measure of your applause, have
+you ever recollected that modern times--that your own country came in
+competition for a share of fame! Has it occurred to you that your own
+sex--even the most delicate and tender part of it--exceeded the ancient
+Stoics in the voluntary infliction of pain, and extinction of pity? Yes;
+some of the timid and beautiful members of this seminary may enter the
+lists with Zeno, Cleanthus, and Chrysippus, and cherish no slight hope
+of victory. I trust to prove to you that the ancient and sublime Stoics
+were very tyros in comparison with many a lady of our own times. In
+degree of suffering, extent of endurance, and in perfection of
+concealment, they must yield the palm. I do assure you, that, its most
+illustrious masters--fruitful as they were in tests to try the
+body--never invented, imagined, nor would have been able to sustain that
+torture of tight-lacing which the modern belle steadily inflicts without
+shrinking, and bears without repining sometimes to her very grave. True,
+they might sometimes have broken a bone, or plucked out an eye, and been
+silent; but they never grappled iron and whalebone into the very nerves
+and life-blood of their system. They might possibly have passed a dagger
+too deeply info the heart, and died; but they never drew a ligature of
+suffocation around it, and _expected to live_! They never tied up the
+mouths of the millions of air-vessels in the lungs, and then taxed them
+to the full measure of action and respiration. Even Pharaoh only
+demanded bricks without straw for a short time; but the fashionable lady
+asks to live without breathing for many years!
+
+"The ancient Stoics taught that the nearest approach to apathy was the
+perfection of their doctrine. They prudently rested in utter
+indifference; they did not attempt to go beyond it; they did not claim
+absolute denial of all suffering; still less did they enjoin to persist
+and rejoice in it, even to the 'dividing asunder of soul and body.' In
+this, too, you will perceive the tight-laced lady taking a flight beyond
+the sublime philosopher. She will not admit that she feels the slightest
+inconvenience. Though she has fairly won laurels to which no Stoic dared
+aspire, yet she studiously disclaims the distinction which she faced
+death to earn--yea, denies that she has either part of lot in the
+matter; surpassing in modesty, as well as in desert, all that antiquity
+can boast or history record."
+
+We quote the following from Miss Sedgwick: "One word as to these small
+waists: Symmetry is essential to beauty of form. A waist
+disproportionately small is a deformity to an instructed eye. Women must
+have received their notions of small waists from ignorant dress-makers.
+If young ladies could hear the remarks made on these small waists by men
+generally, and especially men of taste, they would never again show
+themselves till they had loosened their corset-laces and enlarged their
+belts."
+
+
+
+
+LETTER-WRITING.
+
+
+It sometimes happens that, in fashionable penmanship, the circumstance
+that it is _to be deciphered_ seems to have been forgotten. "To read so
+as not to be understood, and to write so as not to be read, are among
+the minor immoralities," says the excellent Mrs. Hannah More. Elegant
+chirography, and a clear epistolary style, are accomplishments which
+every educated female should possess. Their indispensable requisites
+are, neatness, the power of being easily perused, orthographical and
+grammatical correctness. Defects in either of these particulars, are
+scarcely pardonable. The hand-writing is considered by many, one of the
+talismans of character. Whether this test may be depended on or not, the
+fact that letters travel farther than the sound of the voice, or the
+sight of the countenance can follow, renders it desirable that they
+should convey no incorrect or unfavorable impression. The lesser
+niceties of folding, sealing, and superscription, are not beneath the
+notice of a lady.
+
+Letter-writing is a subject of so varied and extensive a nature, that it
+can scarcely be reduced to rules or taught by precept; but some
+instructions respecting it may afford assistance in avoiding error, and
+obtaining a degree of excellence in this most important exercise.
+
+When you write a letter to any person, express the same sentiments and
+use the same language as you would do if you were conversing with him.
+"Write eloquently," says Mr. Gray, "that is, from your heart, in such
+expressions as that will furnish."
+
+Before you begin a letter, especially when it is on any occasion of
+importance, weigh well in your own mind the design and purport of it;
+and consider very attentively what sentiments are most proper for you to
+express, and your correspondent to read.
+
+To assist invention and promote order, it may, as some writers on
+epistolary composition recommend, occasionally be of use to make, in the
+mind, a division of a letter into three parts, the beginning, middle,
+and end; or, in other words, the exordium or introduction, the narration
+or proposition, and the conclusion. The exordium, or introduction,
+should be employed, not indeed with the formality of rhetoric, but with
+the ease of genuine politeness and benevolence, in conciliating favor
+and attention; the narration or proposition, in stating the business
+with clearness and precision; the conclusion, in confirming what has
+been premised, in making apologies where any are necessary, and in
+cordial expressions of respect, esteem, or affection.
+
+Scrupulously adhere to the rules of grammar. Select and apply all your
+words with a strict regard to their proper signification, and whenever
+you have any doubts respecting the correctness or propriety of them,
+consult a dictionary or some good living authority. Avoid, with
+particular care, all errors in orthography, in punctuation, and in the
+arrangement of words and phrases.
+
+Dashes, underlinings, and interlineations, are much used by unskillful
+and careless writers, merely as substitutes for proper punctuation, and
+a correct, regular mode of expression. The frequent recurrence of them
+greatly defaces a letter, and is equally inconsistent with neatness of
+appearance and regularity of composition. All occasion for
+interlineations may usually be superseded by a little previous thought
+and attention. Dashes are proper only when the sense evidently requires
+a greater pause than the common stops designate. And in a
+well-constructed sentence, to underline a word is wholly useless, except
+on some very particular occasion we wish to attract peculiar attention
+to it, or to give it an uncommon degree of importance or emphasis.
+
+Postscripts have a very awkward appearance, and they generally indicate
+thoughtlessness and inattention. To make use of them in order to convey
+assurances of respect to the person to whom you write, or to those who
+are intimately connected with him, is particularly improper; it seems to
+imply that the sentiments you express are so slightly impressed upon
+your mind, that you had almost forgotten them or thought them scarcely
+worth mentioning.
+
+
+
+
+MUSIC.
+
+
+This accomplishment, so popular at the present time, is a source of
+surpassing delight to many minds. From its power to soothe the feelings
+and modify the passions, it seems desirable to understand it, if it does
+not involve too great expense of time. Vocal music is an accomplishment
+within the reach of most persons. "I have a piano within myself," said a
+little girl, "and I can play on that, if I have no other."
+
+An excellent clergyman, possessing much knowledge of human nature,
+instructed his large family of daughters in the theory and practice of
+music. They were all observed to be exceedingly amiable and happy. A
+friend inquired if there was any secret in his mode of education. He
+replied, "When any thing disturbs their temper, I say to them _sing_;
+and, if I hear them speaking against any person, I call them to sing to
+me, and so they have sung away all causes of discontent, and every
+disposition to scandal." Such a use of this accomplishment might serve
+to fit a family for the company of angels and the clime of praise. Young
+voices around the domestic altar, breathing sacred music at the hour of
+morning and evening devotions, are a sweet and touching accompaniment.
+
+Instrumental music, being more expensive in its attainment, both of
+money and time, and its indifferent performance giving pain to those
+of refined sensibility, seems scarcely desirable to be cultivated,
+unless the impulse of native taste prompts or justifies the labor. The
+spirited pen of Miss Martineau, in her "Five First Years of Youth," has
+sketched a pleasing description of a young lady, possessing a strong
+predilection for music. "She sang much and often, not that she had any
+particular aim at being very accomplished, but because she loved it, or,
+as she said, because she could not help it. She sang to Nurse Rickham's
+children; she sang as she went up and down stairs; she sang when she was
+glad, and when she was sorry; when her father was at home, because he
+liked it; and when he was out, because he could not be disturbed by it.
+In the woods, at noonday, she sang like a bird, that a bird might answer
+her; and, if she awoke in the dark night, the feeling of solemn music
+came over her, with which she dared not break the silence."
+
+Where such a taste exists, there is no doubt that opportunities for its
+improvement should be gladly accepted. Where there is no taste, it seems
+cause of regret, when time, perhaps health, are sacrificed to the
+accomplishment. Even where a tolerable performance of instrumental music
+might probably be attained, without the prompting of decided taste,
+there may be danger of absorbing too much of time and attention from
+those employments which a female ought to understand and will be
+expected to discharge, and which are in reality of far greater
+importance.
+
+
+
+
+FLOWERS.
+
+
+    "Who does not love a flower
+    Its hues are taken from the light
+    Which summer's suns fling, pure and bright,
+    In scatter'd and prismatic hues,
+    That smile and shine in drooping dews;
+    Its fragrance from the sweetest air--
+    Its form from all that's light and fair--
+    Who does not love a flower?"
+
+
+In the two great floral kingdoms of nature, the botanical and the human,
+if we must yield the palm to that which is alike transcendent in the
+beauty of form and motion, and in the higher attributes of intelligence,
+innocence, and rural perfection, yet it can be no derogation to admire,
+with a rapture bordering upon enthusiasm, the splendid products of the
+garden; and especially when their beauties are combined and arranged
+with an exquisite and refined taste. What is the heart made of which can
+find no sentiment in flowers! In the dahlia, for example, we see what
+can be done by human skill and art, in educating and training a simple
+and despised plant, scarcely thought worthy of cultivation, to the
+highest rank of gayety and glory in the aristocracy of flowers. We may
+learn, from such success, a lesson of encouragement, in the education
+and training of flowers, of an infinitely higher value and perfection.
+
+The vast creation of God--the centre and source of good--is every where
+radiant with beauty. From the shell that lies buried in the depths of
+the ocean, to the twinkling star that floats in the more profound depths
+of the firmament--through all the forms of material and animated
+existence, beauty, beauty, beauty prevails! In the floral kingdom, it
+appears in an infinite variety--in an unstinted and even a richer
+profusion than in other departments of nature. While these contributions
+are thrown out so lavishly at our feet, and a taste for flowers seems
+almost an instinct of nature, and is one of the most innocent and
+refined sentiments which we can cultivate, let us indulge and gratify it
+to the utmost extent, whenever leisure, opportunity, and fortune give us
+the means. There is no danger of an excess, under those reasonable
+restrictions which all our sentiments demand.
+
+"But," says some cynical objector, "flowers are only to please the eye."
+And why should not the eye be pleased? What sense may be more innocently
+gratified? They are among the most simple and cheapest luxuries in which
+we ever indulge.
+
+The taste for flowers--every where increasing among us--is an omen of
+good. Let us adorn our parlors, door-ways, yards, and road-sides with
+trees, and shrubs, and flowers. What a delight do they give to the
+passer-by! What favorable impressions do they, at once, excite towards
+those who cultivate them for their own gratification, and find, after
+all, their chief pleasure in the gratification which they afford to
+others! What an affecting charm--associated as it is with some of the
+best sentiments of our nature--do they give to the sad dwelling-places
+of the departed and beloved!
+
+
+
+
+TIME.
+
+
+      "I saw the leaves gliding down a brook;
+        Swift the brook ran, and bright the sun burned:
+      The sere and the verdant, the same course they took--
+        And sped gayly and fast--but they never returned.
+    And I thought how the years of a man pass away--
+    Threescore and ten--and then where are they?"
+
+
+"Threescore years and ten," thought I to myself, as I walked, one rainy
+morning, as a sailor walks the quarter-deck, up and down a short alcove,
+extending before the windows of a modern house. It was one of those days
+in June, in which our summer-hopes take umbrage at what we call
+unseasonable weather, though no season was ever known to pass without
+them. Unlike the rapid and delightful showers of warmer days, suddenly
+succeeding to the sunshine, when the parched vegetables and arid earth
+seize with avidity, and imbibe the moisture ere it becomes unpleasant to
+our feelings, there had fallen a drizzling rain throughout the night;
+the saturated soil returned to the atmosphere the humidity it could no
+longer absorb; and there it hung, in chilling thickness, between rain
+and fog. The birds did not sing, and the flowers did not open, for the
+cold drop was on their cheek, and no sunbeam was there to expand them.
+Nature itself wore the garb of sadness, and man's too dependent spirits
+were ready to assume it--those, at least, that were not so happy as to
+find means of forgetting it. Such was the case with my unfortunate self.
+
+I had descended to the breakfast-room, at the usual hour, but no one
+appeared; I looked for a book, but found none but an almanac. The books
+were kept in the library--beyond all dispute their proper place, had I
+not been in a humor to think otherwise. The house was too hot, and the
+external air was too cold; and I was fain to betake myself to that last
+resort of the absolutely idle--a mechanical movement of the body up and
+down a given space. And, from the alcove where I walked, I heard the
+ticking of the timepiece; and, as I passed the window, I saw the hands
+advance; every time I had returned, they had gone a little farther.
+"Threescore years and ten," said I to myself; "and a third or fourth of
+it is nature's claim for indispensable repose--and many a day consumed
+on the bed of sickness--and many a year by the infirmities of age--and
+some part of all necessarily sacrificed to the recruiting of the health
+by exercise. And what do we with the rest?" Nothing answered me but the
+ticking of the clock, of which the hands were traversing between eight
+and nine. They had nearly met, at the appointed hour, when the party
+began to assemble within; and each one commenced, for aught I could
+discover, the functions of the day, for neither their appearance nor
+their remarks gave any intimation that they had been previously
+employed. One, indeed, declared the weather made her so idle she had
+scarcely found strength to dress herself; another confessed he had
+passed an additional hour in bed, because the day promised him so little
+to do up. One by one, as they dropped in, the seats at the
+breakfast-table were filled; and, as a single newspaper was all the
+apparent means of mental occupation, I anticipated some interesting
+conversation.
+
+I waited and I watched. One ran the point of his fork into the
+table-cloth; another balanced her spoon on the tea-cup; a third told
+backwards and forwards the rings on her fingers, as duly as a friar
+tells his beads. As such actions sometimes are the symptoms of mental
+occupation, I began to anticipate the brilliant results of so much
+thinking. I cried, hem! in hopes to rouse them to expression--and not
+quite unsuccessfully: for one remarked, it was a wretched day; another
+wished it was fine; and a third hoped it shortly would be so. Meantime,
+the index of the clock went round; it was gaining close upon ten before
+all had withdrawn from the table. My eye followed one to the
+window-place; where, with her back to the wall, and her eyes fixed
+without, she passed a full half hour in gazing at the prospect without,
+or wishing, perhaps, the mist did not prevent her seeing it. A very
+young lady was so busy in pulling the dead leaves from a geranium, and
+crumbling them in her fingers, I could not doubt but some important
+purpose was in the task. A third resumed the newspaper he had read for a
+whole hour before, and betook himself, at last, to the advertisements. A
+fourth repaired to the alcove, gathered some flowers, picked them to
+pieces, threw them away again, and returned. "Cease thy prating, thou
+never-resting time-piece!" said I to myself, "for no one heeds thy tale.
+What is it to us that each one of thy tickings cuts a link from our
+brief chain of life? Time is the gift of Heaven, but man has no use for
+it!"
+
+I had scarcely thought out the melancholy reflection, when a young lady
+entered with an elegant work-box, red without and blue within, and
+filled with manifold conveniences for the pursuance of her art. Glad was
+I most truly at the sight. By the use of the needle, the naked may be
+clothed; ingenuity may economize her means, and have more to spare for
+those who need it; invention may multiply the ways of honest
+subsistence, and direct the ignorant to the use of them. Most glad was
+I, therefore, that the signal of industry drew more than one wanderer to
+the same pursuit, though not till much time had been consumed in going
+in and out, and up and down, in search of the materials. All were found
+at last; the party worked, and I, as usual, listened. "I think this
+trimming," said one, "will repay me for my trouble, though it has cost
+me three months' work already, and it will be three months more before
+it is finished." "Indeed!" rejoined her friend; "I wish I were half as
+industrious; but I have been working six weeks at this handkerchief, and
+have not had time to finish it: now the fashion is passed, and I shall
+not go on." "How beautifully you are weaving that necklace! Is it not
+very tedious?" "Yes, almost endless; but I delight in the work,
+otherwise I should not do it, for the beads cost almost as much as I
+could buy it for." "I should like to begin one this morning," interposed
+a fourth, "but the milliner has sent home my bonnet so ill-trimmed, it
+will take me all the day to alter it: the bow is on the wrong side, and
+the trimming on the edge is too broad. It is very tiresome to spend all
+one's life in altering things we pay so much for." "I wish," said a
+little girl at the end of the table, "that I might work some trimmings
+for my frock, but I am obliged to do this plain work first. The poor
+lame girl in the village, who is almost starving, would do it for me for
+a shilling, but I must save my allowance this week to buy a French
+trinket I have taken a fancy to." "Poor thing! she is much to be
+pitied," said the lady of the trimming; "if I had time, I would make her
+some clothes."
+
+And so they worked, and so they talked, till I and the time-piece had
+counted many an hour which they took no account of, when one of them
+yawned, and said, "How tedious are these wet days; it is really
+impossible to spin out one's time without a walk." "I am surprised you
+find it so," rejoined the lady of the beads; "I can rarely take time
+for walking, though keeping the house makes me miserably languid."
+
+And so the morning passed. It was nearly two o'clock, and the company
+dispersed to their apartments. I pretend not to know what they did
+there; but each one returned between three and four in an altered dress.
+And then half an hour elapsed, in which, as I understood from their
+impatience, they were waiting for dinner; each in turn complaining of
+the waste of time occasioned by its delay, and the little use it would
+be to go about any thing when it was so near. And as soon as dinner was
+over, they began to wait for tea with exactly the same complainings. And
+the tea came, and, cheered by the vivifying draught, one did repair to
+the instrument, and began a tune; one did take up a pencil, and prepare
+to draw; and one almost opened a book. But, alas! the shades of night
+were growing fast:--ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, before each one
+resigned her occupation, with a murmur at the darkness of the weather;
+and, though some persons suggested that there were such things as lamps
+and candles, it was agreed to be a pity to have lights so early in the
+midst of summer, and so another half hour escaped.
+
+The lights, when they came, would have failed to relumine an expectation
+in my bosom, had not their beams disclosed the forms of various books,
+which one and another had brought in for the evening's amusement. Again
+I watched and again I listened. "I wish I had something to do, mamma,"
+said the little girl. "Why do you not take a book, and read?" rejoined
+her mother. "My books are all up stairs," she replied; "and it is so
+near bedtime, it is not worth while to bring them down." "This is the
+best novel I ever read," said a lady, somewhat older, turning the leaves
+over so very fast, that those who are not used to this manner of
+reading, might suppose she found nothing in it worthy of attention. "I
+dare say it is," said another, whose eyes had been fixed for half an
+hour on the same page of Wordsworth's Poems; "but I have no time to read
+novels." "I wish I had time to read any thing," said a third, whom I had
+observed already to have been perusing attentively the title-page of
+every book on the table, publisher's name, date, and all; while a fourth
+was too intensely engaged in studying the blue cover of a magazine, to
+make any remark whatever.
+
+And now I was much amused to perceive with what frequency eyes were
+turned upon the dial-plate, through all the day so little regarded.
+Watches were drawn out, compared, and pronounced too slow. With some
+difficulty, one was found that had outrun its fellows, and, determined
+to be right, gave permission to the company to disperse, little more
+than twelve hours from the time of their assembling, to recover, as I
+supposed, during the other twelve, dressing and undressing included, the
+effect of their mental and bodily exertions.
+
+"So!" I exclaimed, as soon as I found myself alone, "twelve times round
+yonder dial-plate those little hands have stolen, and twelve times more
+they may now go round unheeded. They who are gone to rest, have a day
+less to live, and record has been made in heaven of that day's use. Will
+He who gave, ask no reckoning for his gifts? The time, the thoughts, the
+talents; the improvement we might have made, and made not; the good we
+might have done, and did not; the health, and strength, and intellect,
+that may not be our's to-morrow, and have not been used to-day; will not
+conscience whisper of it ere they sleep to-night? The days of man were
+shortened upon earth by reason of the wickedness the Creator saw.
+Threescore years and ten are now his portion, and often not half the
+number. They pause not; they loiter not: the hours strike on, and they
+may even go, for it seems they are all too much."
+
+The young, with minds as yet unstored, full of error, full of ignorance
+in all that it behooves them most to know, unfit alike as yet for earth
+or heaven--the old, whose sum of life is almost told, and but a brief
+space remaining to repair their mistakes and redeem the time they have
+lost--the simple and ungifted, who, having from nature but little, need
+the more assiduity to fulfill their measure of usefulness, and make that
+little do the most it may--the clever and highly talented, who have an
+almost appalling account to render for the much received--they all have
+time to waste. But let them remember, time is not their own; not a
+moment of it; but is the grant of Heaven; and Heaven gives nothing
+without a purpose and an end. Every hour that is wasted, fails of that
+purpose; and in so far as it is wasted or ill-spent, the gift of Heaven
+is misused, and the misuse is to be answered for. Methinks I would be
+allowed to whisper nightly in the ears of my young friends as they lie
+down to rest, "How many minutes have you lost to-day, that might have
+been employed in your own improvement, in our Maker's service, or for
+your fellow-creature's good?"
+
+
+
+
+NOVEL-READING.
+
+
+Novel-reading produces a morbid appetite for excitement. The object of
+the novelist, generally, is to produce the highest possible degree of
+excitement, both of the mind and the passions. The object is very
+similar to that of intoxicating liquors on the body: hence, the
+confirmed novel-reader becomes a kind of _literary inebriate_, to whom
+the things of _entity_ have no attractions, and whose thirst cannot be
+slaked, even with the water of life. And as intoxication enfeebles the
+body, and engenders indolent habits, so this unnatural stimulus
+enfeebles the intellectual powers, induces mental indolence, and unfits
+the mind for vigorous efforts. Nothing less stimulating than its
+accustomed aliment can rouse such a mind to action, or call forth its
+energies; and then, being under the influence of mental intoxication,
+which dethrones reason and destroys the power of self-control, they are
+always misdirected.
+
+It also promotes a sickly sensibility. Dr. Brigham, speaking of the too
+powerful excitement of the female mind, says: "In them the nervous system
+naturally predominates. They are endowed with quicker sensibility and
+far more active imagination than men. Their emotions are more intense,
+and their senses alive to more delicate impressions. They therefore
+require great attention, lest this exquisite sensibility--which, when
+properly and naturally developed, constitutes the greatest excellence of
+woman--should either become excessive by too strong excitement, or
+suppressed by misdirected education." Novel-reading produces just the
+kind of excitement calculated to develop this excessive and diseased
+sensibility; and the effect is, to fill the mind with imaginary fears,
+and produce excessive alarm and agitation at the prospect of danger, the
+sight of distress, or the presence of unpleasant objects; while no place
+is found for the exercise of genuine sympathy for real objects of
+compassion. That sensibility which weeps over imaginary woes of imaginary
+beings, calls forth but imaginary sympathy. It is too refined to be
+excited by the _vulgar_ objects of compassion presented in real life, or
+too excitable to be of any avail in the relief of real distress. It may
+faint at the sight of blood, but it will shrink back from binding up the
+wound. If you wish to become weak-headed, nervous, and good for nothing,
+read novels. I have seen an account of a young lady, who had become so
+nervous and excitable, in consequence of reading novels, that her head
+would be turned by the least appearance of danger, real or imaginary. As
+she was riding in a carriage over a bridge, in company with her mother
+and sister, she became frightened at some fancied danger, caught hold of
+the reins, and backed the carriage off the bridge, down a precipice,
+dashing them to pieces.
+
+This excessive sensibility renders its possessor exquisitely alive to
+all those influences which are unfriendly to human happiness, while it
+diminishes the power of endurance. Extreme sensibility, especially in a
+female, is a great misfortune, rendering the ills of life insupportable.
+Great care should therefore be taken that, while genuine sensibility is
+cherished, its extremes should be avoided, and the mind fortified by
+strengthening the higher powers.
+
+Novel-reading strengthens the passions, weakens the virtues, and
+diminishes the power of self-control. Multitudes may date their ruin
+from the commencement of this kind of reading; and many more, who have
+been rescued from the snare, will regret, to the end of their days, its
+influence in the early formation of their character.
+
+It is, too, a great waste of time. Few will pretend that they read
+novels with any higher end in view than _mere amusement_; while, by the
+strong excitement they produce, they impose a heavier tax on both mind
+and body than any other species of mental effort. If any thing valuable
+is to be derived from them, it can be obtained with far less expense of
+time, and with safety to the morals, from other sources. No Christian,
+who feels the obligation of "redeeming the time, because the days are
+evil," will fail to feel the force of this remark. We have no more right
+to squander our time and waste our energies in frivolous pursuits, than
+we have to waste our money in extravagant expenditures. We are as much
+the stewards of God in respect to the one as the other.
+
+
+
+
+FEMALE ROMANCE.
+
+
+Most women are inclined to be romantic. This tendency is not confined to
+the young or to the beautiful, to the intellectual or to the refined.
+Every woman, capable of strong feeling, is susceptible of romance; and,
+though its degree may depend on external circumstances, or education, or
+station, or excitement, it generally exists, and requires only a
+stimulus for its development.
+
+Romance indeed contributes much to the charm of the female character.
+Without some degree of it, no woman can be interesting; and, though its
+excess is a weakness, and one which receives but little indulgence,
+there is nothing truly generous and disinterested which does not imply
+its existence. It is that poetry of sentiment which imparts to character
+or incident something of the beautiful or the sublime; which elevates us
+to a higher sphere; which gives an ardor to affection, a life to
+thought, a glow to imagination; and which lends so warm and sunny a hue
+to the portraiture of life, that it ceases to appear the vulgar, and
+cold, and dull, and monotonous reality, which common sense alone would
+make it.
+
+But it is this opposition, between romance and sobriety, that excites
+so strong a prejudice against the former: it is associated, in the minds
+of many, with folly alone. A romantic, silly girl, is the object of
+their contempt; and they so recoil from this personification of
+sentiment, that their chief object seems to be to divest themselves
+altogether of its delusion. Life is to them a mere calculation;
+expediency is their maxim; propriety their rule; profit, ease, or
+comfort their aim; and they have at least this advantage, that while
+minds of higher tone and hearts of superior sensibility are often
+harassed and wounded, and even withered, in their passage through life,
+they proceed in their less adventurous career, neither chilled by the
+coldness, nor sickened by the meanness, nor disappointed by the
+selfishness of the world. They virtually admit, though they often
+theoretically deny, the baseness of human nature; and, strangers to
+disinterestedness themselves, they do not expect to meet with it in
+others. They are content with a low degree of enjoyment, and are thus
+exempted from much poignant suffering; and it is only when the
+casualties of life interfere with their individual ease, that we can
+perceive that they are not altogether insensible.
+
+A good deal of this phlegmatic disposition exists in many who are
+capable of higher feeling. Such persons are so afraid of sensibility,
+that they repress in themselves every thing that savors of it; and,
+though we may occasionally detect it in the mounting flush, or in the
+glistening tear, or in the half-stifled sigh, it is in vain that we
+endeavor to elicit any more explicit avowal. They are ashamed even of
+what they do betray; and one would imagine that the imputation of
+sensibility were almost a reflection on their character. They must not
+feel, or, at least, they must not allow that they feel; for feeling has
+led so many persons wrong, that decorum can be preserved, they think,
+only by indifference. And they end in being really as callous as they
+wish to appear, and stifle emotion so successfully, that at length it
+ceases to give them uneasiness.
+
+Such is often the case with many who pass through life with great
+decorum; and though women have naturally more sensibility than the other
+sex, they, too, sometimes consider its indulgence altogether wrong. Yet,
+if its excess is foolish, it is surely a mistake to attempt to suppress
+it altogether; for such attempt will either produce a dangerous
+revulsion, or, if successful, will spoil the character. One would rather
+almost that a woman were ever so romantic, than that she always thought,
+and felt, and spoke by rule; and should deem it preferable that her
+sensibility brought upon her occasional distress, than that she always
+calculated the degree of her feeling.
+
+Life has its romance, and to this it owes much of its charm. It is not
+that every woman is a heroine and every individual history a novel; but
+there are scenes and incidents in real life so peculiar, and so poetic,
+that we need not be indebted to fiction for the development of romance.
+Christians will trace such scenes and incidents immediately to
+Providence, and they do so with affectionate and confiding hearts; and
+the more affecting or remarkable these may be, the more clearly do they
+recognize the Divine interference. They regard them as remembrances of
+Heaven, to recall to them their connection with it, and remind them that
+whatever there may be to interest or excite their feelings here, there
+is infinitely more to affect and warm their hearts in the glorious
+prospects beyond.
+
+It is natural that women should be very susceptible to such impressions;
+that they should view life with almost a poetic eye; and that they
+should be peculiarly sensitive to its vicissitudes. And though a
+Quixotic quest after adventures is as silly as it is vain, and to invest
+every trifle with importance, or to see something marvelous in every
+incident, is equally absurd; there is no reason why the imagination
+should not grasp whatever is picturesque, and the mind dwell upon
+whatever is impressive, and the heart warm with whatever is affecting,
+in the changes and the chances of our pilgrimage. There is indeed a
+great deal of what is mean and low in all that is connected with this
+world; quite enough to sully the most glowing picture; but let us
+sometimes view life with its golden tints; let us sometimes taste its
+ambrosial dews; let us sometimes breathe its more ethereal atmosphere;
+and let us do so, not as satisfied with any thing it can afford--not as
+entranced by any of its illusions--but as those who catch, even in this
+dull mirror, a shadowy delineation of a brighter world, and who pant
+for what is pure, celestial, and eternal. This is surely better than
+clipping the wings of imagination, or restraining the impulses of
+feeling, or reducing all our joys and sorrows to mere matters of
+calculation or of sense.
+
+They are indeed to be pitied who are in the opposite extreme--whose
+happiness or misery is entirely ideal; but we have within us such a
+capacity for both, independent of all outward circumstances, and such a
+power of extracting either from every circumstance, that it is surely
+more wise to discipline such a faculty, than to disallow its influence.
+
+Youth is of course the season for romance. Its buoyant spirit must soar
+till weighed down by earthly care. It is in youth that the feelings are
+warm and the fancy fresh, and that there has been no blight to chill the
+one or to wither the other. And it is in youth that hope lends its
+cheering ray, and love its genial influence; that our friends smile upon
+us, our companions do not cross us, and our parents are still at hand to
+cherish us in their bosoms, and sympathize in all our young and ardent
+feelings. It is then that the world seems so fair, and our fellow-beings
+so kind, that we charge with spleen any who would prepare us for
+disappointment, and accuse those of misanthropy who would warn our
+too-confiding hearts. And though, in maturer life, we may smile at the
+romance of youth, and lament, perhaps, its aberrations, yet we shall not
+regret the depth of our young emotions, the disinterestedness of our
+young affections, and that enthusiasm of purpose, which, alas! we soon
+grow too wise to cherish.
+
+
+
+
+BEHAVIOR TO GENTLEMEN.
+
+
+What a pity it is that the thousandth chance of a gentleman's becoming
+your lover should deprive you of the pleasure of a free, unembarrassed,
+intellectual intercourse with all the single men of your acquaintance!
+Yet, such is too commonly the case with young ladies who have read a
+great many novels and romances, and whose heads are always running on
+love and lovers.
+
+Where, as in this country, there is a fair chance of every woman's being
+married who wishes it, the more things are left to their natural course
+the better. Where girls are brought up to be good daughters and sisters,
+to consider the development of their own intellectual and moral natures
+as the great business of life, and to view matrimony as a good, only
+when it comes unsought, and marked by such a fitness of things, inward
+and outward, as shows it to be one of the appointments of God, they will
+fully enjoy their years of single life, free from all anxiety about
+being established, and will generally be the first sought in marriage by
+the wise and good of the other sex; whereas those who are brought up to
+think the great business of life is to get married, and who spend their
+lives in plans and manoeuvres to bring it about, are the very ones
+who remain single, or, what is worse, make unhappy matches.
+
+Very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older
+ones, that there is some peculiar manner to be put on in talking to
+gentlemen, and not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and
+reserved; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in
+this intercourse, and try to imitate them as a necessary part of company
+behavior, and so become affected, and lose that first of
+charms--simplicity, naturalness. To such I would say, your companions
+are in error; it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in
+order to converse with gentlemen any more than with ladies; and the more
+pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated your
+intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly with
+all. If, however, you happen to have no facility in expressing yourself,
+and you find it very difficult to converse with persons whom you do not
+know well, you can still be an intelligent and agreeable listener, and
+you can show by your ready smile of sympathy that you would be sociable
+if you could. There is no reason in the world why any one, who is not
+unhappy, should sit in the midst of gay companions with a face so solemn
+and unmoved, that she should seem not to belong to the company; that she
+should look so glum and forbidding that strangers should feel repulsed,
+and her best friends disappointed. If you cannot look entertained and
+pleasant, you had better stay away, for politeness requires some
+expression of sympathy in the countenance, as much as a civil answer on
+the tongue.
+
+Never condescend to use any little arts or manoeuvres to secure a
+pleasant beau at a party, or during an excursion; remember that a woman
+must always wait to be chosen, and "not unsought be won," even for an
+hour. When you are so fortunate as to be attended by the most agreeable
+gentleman present, do not make any effort to keep him entirely to
+yourself; that flatters him too much, and exposes you to be joked about.
+
+How strange a thing it is, in the constitution of English and American
+society, that the subject, of all others the most important and the most
+delicate, should be that on which every body is most given to joke and
+banter their friends! Much mischief has been done by this coarse
+interference of the world, in what ought to be the most private and
+sacred of our earthly concerns; and every refined, delicate, and
+high-minded girl should set her face against it, and, by scrupulously
+refraining from such jokes herself, give no one a right to indulge in
+them at her expense.
+
+As soon as young ladies go into general society, they are liable to
+receive attentions that indicate a particular regard, and, long before
+they are really old enough to form any such ties, they often receive
+matrimonial overtures; it is therefore highly necessary to know how to
+treat them. The offer of a man's heart and hand is the greatest
+compliment he can pay you, and, however undesirable to you those gifts
+may be, they should be courteously and kindly declined; and since a
+refusal is, to most men, not only a disappointment, but a mortification,
+it should always be prevented, if possible. Men have various ways of
+cherishing and declaring their attachment; those who indicate the bias
+of their feelings in many intelligible ways, before they make a direct
+offer, can generally be spared the pain of a refusal. If you do not mean
+to accept a gentleman who is paying you very marked attentions, you
+should avoid receiving him whenever you can; you should not allow him to
+escort you; you should show your displeasure when joked about him; and,
+if sounded by a mutual friend, let your want of reciprocal feelings be
+very apparent.
+
+You may, however, be taken entirely by surprise, because there are men
+who are so secret in these matters that they do not let even the object
+of their affections suspect their preference, until they suddenly
+declare themselves lovers and suitors. In such a case as that, you will
+need all your presence of mind, or the hesitation produced by surprise
+may give rise to false hopes. If you have any doubt upon the matter, you
+may fairly ask time to consider of it, on the grounds of your never
+having thought of the gentleman in the light of a lover before; but, if
+you are resolved against the suit, endeavor to make your answer so
+decided as to finish the affair at once. Inexperienced girls sometimes
+feel so much the pain they are inflicting, that they use phrases which
+feed a lover's hopes; but this is mistaken tenderness; your answer
+should be as decided as it is courteous.
+
+Whenever an offer is made in writing, you should reply to it as soon as
+possible; and, having in this case none of the embarrassment of a
+personal interview, you can make such a careful selection of words as
+will best convey your meaning. If the person is estimable, you should
+express your sense of his merit, and your gratitude for his preference,
+in strong terms; and put your refusal of his hand on the score of your
+not feeling for him that peculiar preference necessary to the union he
+seeks. This makes a refusal as little painful as possible, and soothes
+the feelings you are obliged to wound. The gentleman's letter should be
+returned in your reply, and your lips should be closed upon the subject
+for ever afterwards. It is his secret, and you have no right to tell it
+to any one; but, if your parents are your confidential friends on all
+other occasions, he will not blame you for telling them.
+
+Never think the less of a man because he has been refused, even if it be
+by a lady whom you do not highly value. It is nothing to his
+disadvantage. In exercising their prerogative of making the first
+advances, the wisest will occasionally make great mistakes, and the best
+will often be drawn into an affair of this sort against their better
+judgment, and both are but too happy if they escape with only the pain
+of being refused. So far from its being any reason for not accepting a
+wise and good man when he offers himself to you, it should only
+increase your thankfulness to the overruling providence of God, which
+reserved him for you, through whose instrumentality he is still free to
+choose.
+
+There is no sure remedy for disappointed affection but vital religion;
+that giving of the heart to God which enables a disciple to say, "Whom
+have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none on earth that I desire in
+comparison of Thee." The cure for a wounded heart, which piety affords,
+is so complete, that it makes it possible for the tenderest and most
+constant natures to love again. When a character is thus disciplined and
+matured, its sympathies will be called forth only by superior minds;
+and, if a kindred spirit presents itself as a partner for life, and is
+accepted, the union is likely to be such as to make the lady rejoice
+that her former predilection was overruled.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIAGE.
+
+
+Some young persons indulge a fastidiousness of feeling in relation to
+this subject, as though it were indelicate to speak of it. Others make
+it the principal subject of their thoughts and conversation; yet they
+seem to think it must never be mentioned but in jest. Both these
+extremes should be avoided. Marriage is an ordinance of God, and
+therefore a proper subject of thought and discussion, with reference to
+personal duty. It is a matter of great importance, having a direct
+bearing upon the glory of God and the happiness of individuals. It
+should, therefore, never be approached with levity. But, as it requires
+no more attention than what is necessary in order to understand present
+duty, it would be foolish to make it a subject of constant thought, and
+silly to make it a common topic of conversation. It is a matter which
+should be weighed deliberately and seriously by every young person. It
+was ordained by the Lord at the creation, as suited to the state of man
+as a social being, and necessary to the design for which he was created.
+There is a sweetness and comfort in the bosom of one's own family which
+can be enjoyed no where else. In early life this is supplied by our
+youthful companions, who feel in unison with us. But as a person who
+remains single, advances in life, the friends of his youth form new
+attachments, in which he is incapable of participating. Their feelings
+undergo a change, of which he knows nothing. He is gradually left alone.
+No heart beats in unison with his own. His social feelings wither for
+want of an object. As he feels not in unison with those around him, his
+habits also become peculiar, and perhaps repulsive, so that his company
+is not desired; hence arises the whimsical attachments of such persons
+to domestic animals, or to other objects that can be enjoyed in
+solitude. As the dreary winter of age advances, the solitude of this
+condition becomes still more chilling. Nothing but that sweet
+resignation to the will of God, which religion gives, under all
+circumstances, can render such a situation tolerable. But religion does
+not annihilate the social affections; it only regulates them. It is
+evident, then, by a lawful and proper exercise of these affections, both
+our happiness and usefulness may be greatly increased.
+
+On the other hand, do not consider marriage as _absolutely essential_.
+Although it is an ordinance of God, yet he has not absolutely enjoined
+it upon all. You _may_, therefore, be in the way of duty while
+neglecting it. And the apostle Paul intimates that there may be, with
+those who enter this state, a greater tendency of heart toward earthly
+objects. There is also an increase of care. "The unmarried woman careth
+for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy, both in body and
+spirit; but she that is married, careth for the things of the world,
+how she may please her husband." But much more has been made of this
+than the apostle intended. It has been greatly perverted and abused by
+the church of Rome. It must be observed that, in the same chapter, he
+advises that "every man have his own wife and every woman her own
+husband." And, whatever may be our condition in life, if we seek it with
+earnestness and perseverance, God will give us grace sufficient for the
+day. But, he says, though it is no sin to marry, nevertheless, "such
+shall have trouble in the flesh." It is undoubtedly true that the
+enjoyments of conjugal life have their corresponding difficulties and
+trials; and if these are enhanced by an unhappy connection, the
+situation is insufferable. For this reason, I would have you avoid the
+conclusion that marriage is indispensable to happiness. Single life is
+certainly to be preferred to a connection with a person who will
+diminish instead of increase your happiness. However, the remark of the
+apostle, "such shall have trouble in the flesh," doubtless had reference
+chiefly to the peculiar troubles of the times, when Christians were
+exposed to persecutions, the loss of goods, and even of life itself, for
+Christ's sake; the trials of which would be much greater in married than
+in single life.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIAGE HYMN.
+
+
+    Not for the summer hour alone,
+      When skies resplendent shine,
+    And youth and pleasure fill the throne,
+      Our hearts and hands we join;
+
+    But for those stern and wintry days
+      Of sorrow, pain, and fear,
+    When Heaven's wise discipline doth make
+      Our earthly journey drear.
+
+    Not for this span of life alone,
+      Which like a blast doth fly,
+    And, as the transient flower of grass,
+      Just blossom--droop, and die;
+
+    But for a being without end,
+      This vow of love we take;
+    Grant us, O God! one home at last,
+      For our Redeemer's sake.
+
+
+
+
+FEMALE INFLUENCE.
+
+
+Writers of fiction have not unfrequently selected this topic as the
+theme for poetry and romance; they have extolled woman as the being
+whose eloquence was to soften all the asperities of man, and polish the
+naturally rugged surface of his character; charming away his sternness
+by her grace; refining his coarseness by her elegance and purity; and
+offering in her smiles a reward sufficient to compensate for the hazards
+of any enterprise. But while the self-complacency and vanity of many of
+our sex have been nourished by such idle praise, how few have been
+awakened to a just sense of the deep responsibility which rests upon us,
+for the faithful improvement of this talent, and our consequent
+accountability for its neglect or perversion!
+
+It were not a little amusing, if it were not so melancholy, to listen to
+the reasoning employed by many ladies, in evading any charges of
+non-improvement of this trust. She who perhaps but a moment before may
+have listened with the utmost self-complacency to the flattering strains
+of the poet, who had invested her sex with every charm calculated to
+render them ministering angels to ruder and sterner man, no sooner finds
+herself addressed as the possessor of a talent, implying
+responsibility, and imposing self-exertion and self-denial in its
+exercise, than she instantly disclaims, with capricious diffidence, all
+pretensions to influence over others. But we cannot avert accountability
+by disclaiming its existence; neither will the disavowal of the
+possession of a talent alter the constitution of our nature, which God
+has so formed and so fitted to produce impressions in, and receive them
+from, kindred minds, that it is impossible for us to _exist_ without
+exerting a continual and daily influence over others; either of a
+pernicious or salutary character.
+
+"Woman," to use the words of an accomplished living writer, "has been
+sent on a higher mission than man; it may be a more arduous, a more
+difficult one. It is to manifest and bring to a full development certain
+attributes which belong, it is true, to our common nature, but which,
+owing to man's peculiar relation to the external world, he could not so
+well bring to perfection. Man is sent forth to subdue the earth, to
+obtain command over the elements, to form political communities; and to
+him, therefore, belong the more hardy and austere virtues; and as they
+are made subservient to the relief of our physical wants, and as their
+results are more obvious to the senses, it is not surprising that they
+have acquired in his eyes an importance which does not in strictness
+belong to them. But humility, meekness, gentleness, love, are also
+important attributes of our nature, and it would present a sad and
+melancholy aspect without them. But let us ask, will man, with his
+present characteristic propensities, thrown much more than woman, by his
+immediate duties, upon material things; obliged to be conversant with
+objects of sense, and exposed to the rude conflicts which this leads to;
+will he bring out these virtues in their _full_ beauty and strength? We
+think not--even with the assistance which religion promises. These
+principles, with many others linked with them, have been placed more
+particularly in the keeping of woman; her social condition being
+evidently more favorable to their full development."
+
+Let us ever remember that every aggregate number, however great, is
+composed of units; and of course, were _each_ American female but
+faithful to her God, to her family, and to her country, then would a
+mighty, sanctified influence go forth through the wide extent of our
+beloved land, diffusing moral health and vigor through every part, and
+strengthening it for the endurance of greater trials than have as yet
+menaced its existence. A spirit of insubordination and rebellion to
+lawful authority pervades our land; and where are these foes effectually
+to be checked, if not at their fountain head--in the nursery? Oh! if
+every American mother had but labored faithfully in that sacred
+inclosure, from the period of our revolutionary struggle, by teaching
+her children the great lesson of practical obedience to parental
+authority; then would submission to constituted authority, as well as to
+the will of God, have been far more prevalent in our land, and the
+whole aspect of her affairs would have been widely different.
+
+How much more honorable to woman is such a position, than that in which
+some modern reformers have endeavored to place her, or rather _force_
+her. Instead of seeking hopelessly, and in direct opposition to the
+delicacy of her sex, to obtain for her political privileges; instead of
+bringing her forward as the competitor of man in the public arena; we
+would mark out for her a sphere of duty that is widely different. In the
+domestic circle, "her station should be at man's side, to comfort, to
+encourage, to assist;" while, in the Christian temple, we would assign
+her an ennobling, but a feminine part,--to be the guardian of the sacred
+and spiritual fire, which is ever to be kept alive in its purity and
+brilliancy on the altar of God. She should be the vestal virgin in the
+Christian temple--the priestess, as it were, of a shrine more hallowed
+and honorable than that of Delphos.
+
+
+
+
+A DIFFICULT QUESTION.
+
+
+I remember, many years ago, to have occupied the corner of a
+window-seat, in a small but very elegant house in Montague-square,
+during a morning visit--more interesting than such visits usually are,
+because there was something to talk about. The ladies who met, had each
+a child, I believe an only girl, just of the age when mothers begin to
+ask every body, and tell every body, how their children are to be
+educated. The daughter of the house, the little Jemima, was sitting by
+my side; a delicate little creature, with something very remarkable in
+her expression. The broad projecting brow seemed too heavy for its
+underwork; and by its depression, gave a look of sadness to the
+countenance, till excited animation raised the eye, beaming vivacity and
+strength. The sallow paleness of the complexion was so entirely in
+unison with the features, and the stiff dark locks which surrounded
+them, it was difficult to say whether it was, or was not, improved by
+the color that came and went every time she was looked at or spoken of.
+I was, on this occasion, a very attentive listener: for, being not yet a
+woman, it was very essential to me to learn what sort of a one I had
+better be; and many, indeed, were my counter-resolutions, as the
+following debate proceeded:
+
+"You are going to send your daughter to school I hear?" said Mrs. A.,
+after some discourse of other matters.
+
+Mrs. W. replied, "Really, I have not quite determined; I scarcely know
+what to do for the best. I am only anxious that she should grow up like
+other girls; for of all things in the world, I have the greatest horror
+of a woman of talent. I had never thought to part from her, and am still
+averse to sending her from home; but she is so excessively fond of
+books, I can get her to do nothing else but learn; she is as grave and
+sensible as a little woman. I think, if she were among other girls, she
+would perhaps get fond of play, and be more like a child. I wish her to
+grow up a quiet, domestic girl, and not too fond of learning. I mean her
+to be accomplished; but, at present, I cannot make her distinguish one
+tune from another."
+
+Mrs. A. answered, "Indeed! we differ much in this respect. I am
+determined to make Fanny a superior woman, whatever it may cost me. Her
+father is of the same mind; he has a perfect horror of silly,
+empty-headed women; all our family are literary; Fanny will have little
+fortune, but we can afford to give her every advantage in her education,
+the best portion we can leave her. I would rather see her distinguished
+for talents, than for birth or riches. We have acted upon this intention
+from her birth. She already reads well, but I am sorry to say she hates
+it, and never will open a book unless she is obliged; she shows no taste
+for any thing but making doll's clothes and spinning a top."
+
+At this moment a hearty laugh from little Fanny, who had set herself to
+play behind the curtain, drew my attention towards her. She was twice as
+big as my companion on the window-seat, though but a few months older;
+her broad, flat face, showed like the moon in its zenith, set in thin,
+silky hair: and with eyes as pretty as they could be, expressing neither
+thought nor feeling, but abundance of mirth and good-humor. The coloring
+of her cheek was beautiful; but one wished it gone sometimes, were it
+only for the pleasure of seeing it come again. The increasing
+seriousness of the conversation recalled my attention.
+
+"I am surprised," Mrs. W. was saying, "at your wishes on the subject. I
+am persuaded a woman of great talent is neither so happy, so useful, nor
+so much beloved, as one or more ordinary powers."
+
+"I should like to know why you think this," rejoined her friend; "it
+appears to me she should be much more so."
+
+"My view of it is this," Mrs. W. replied: "a woman's sphere of
+usefulness, of happiness, and of affection, is a domestic circle; and
+even beyond it, all her task of life is to please and to be useful."
+
+"In this we are quite agreed," said Mrs. A.; "but, since we are well set
+for an argument, let us have a little method in it. You would have your
+child useful, happy, and beloved, and so would I; but you think the
+means to this end, is to leave her mind uncultivated, narrow, and empty,
+and consequently weak."
+
+"This, is not my meaning," replied Mrs. W.; "there are many steps
+between stupidity and talent, ignorance and learning. I will suppose my
+child what I wish her to be, about as much taught as women in general,
+who are esteemed clever, well-mannered, and well-accomplished. I think
+it is all that can contribute to her happiness. If her mind is occupied,
+as you will say, with little things, those little things are sufficient
+to its enjoyment, and much more likely to be within her reach than the
+greater matters that fill greater minds. My less accomplished character
+will enjoy herself where your superior woman would go to sleep, or
+hopelessly wish she might. In short, she will find fellowship and
+reciprocation in every little mind she meets with, while yours is left
+to pine in the solitude of her own greatness."
+
+At the close of this speech, I felt quite determined that I would not be
+such a woman.
+
+Mrs. A. rejoined, "You have left my genius in a doleful condition,
+though I question whether you will persuade her to come down. I will
+admit, however, for I am afraid I must, that the woman of talent is less
+likely to find reciprocation, or to receive enjoyment from ordinary
+people and ordinary circumstances; but then she is like the camel that
+traverses the desert safely where others perish, because it carries its
+sustenance in its own bosom. I never remember to have heard a really
+sensible and cultivated woman complain of _ennui_, under any
+circumstances--no small balance on the side of enjoyment positive, is
+misery escaped. But, to leave jesting, admitting that the woman of more
+elevated mind derives less pleasure from the adventitious circumstances
+that surround her, from what money can purchase, and a tranquil mind
+enjoy, and activity gather, of the passing flowers of life--she has
+enjoyments, independent of them, in the treasures of her own intellect.
+Where she finds reciprocation, it is a delight of which the measure
+compensates the rareness; and where she finds nothing else to enjoy, she
+can herself. And when the peopled walks of life become a wilderness; and
+the assiduities of friendship rest unclaimed; and sensible
+gratifications are withered before the blight of poverty; and the foot
+is too weary, and the eye is too dim, to go after what no one remembers
+to bring; still are her resources untouched. Poverty cannot diminish her
+revenue, or friendlessness leave her unaccompanied, or privation of
+every external incitement consign her to the void of unoccupied powers.
+She will traverse the desert, for her store is with her; and if, as you
+have suggested, she be doomed to supply others what no one pays her
+back, there is One who has said, 'It is more blessed to give than to
+receive.'"
+
+At this point of the discussion, I made up my mind to be a very sensible
+woman.
+
+Mrs. W. resumed: "You will allow, of course, that selfish enjoyment is
+not the object of existence; and I think, on the score of usefulness, I
+shall carry my poor, dependent house-wife, far above yours. And for this
+very reason: The duties which Providence has assigned to woman, do not
+require extraordinary intellect. She can manage her husband's household,
+and economize his substance; and if she cannot entertain his friends
+with her talents, she can at least give them a welcome; and be his nurse
+in sickness, and his watchful companion in health, if not capable of
+sharing his more intellectual occupations. She can be the support and
+comfort of her parents in the decline of life, or of her children in
+their helplessness, according as her situation may be. And out of her
+house she may be the benefactress and example of a whole neighborhood;
+she may comfort the afflicted, and clothe and feed the poor, and visit
+the sick, and advise the ignorant; while, by the domestic industry, and
+peaceful, unaspiring habits, with which she plods, as you may please to
+call it, through the duties of her station, whether higher or lower, she
+is a perpetual example to those beneath her, to like sober assiduity in
+their own, and to her children's children to follow in the path in which
+she leads them. She may be superintending the household occupations, or
+actually performing them; giving employment by her wealth to others'
+ingenuity, or supplying the want of it by her own, according as her
+station is, but still she will make many happy.
+
+"I am not so prejudiced as to say that your woman of talent will refuse
+these duties; of course, if she have principle, she will not. But
+literary pursuits must at least divide her attention, if not unfit her
+altogether for the tasks the order of Providence has assigned her; she
+will distaste such duties, if she does not refuse them; while the
+distance at which her attainments place her from ordinary minds, forbid
+all attempts to imitate or follow her."
+
+"You have drawn a picture," answered Mrs. A., "which would convert half
+the world, if they were not of your mind already, as I believe they are.
+It is a picture so beautiful, I would not blot it with the shadow of my
+finger. I concede that talent is not necessary to usefulness, and a
+woman may fulfill every duty of her station without it. But our question
+is of comparative usefulness; and there I have something to say. It is
+an axiom that knowledge is power; and, if it is, the greater the
+knowledge, the greater should be the power of doing good. To men,
+superior intelligence gives power to dispose, control, and govern the
+fortunes of others. To women, it gives influence over their minds. The
+greater knowledge which she has acquired of the human heart, gives her
+access to it in all its subtleties; while her acknowledged superiority
+secures that deference to her counsels, which weakness ever pays to
+strength.
+
+"If the circumstances of her condition require it, I believe the greater
+will suffice the less, and she will fulfill equally well the duties you
+have enumerated; shedding as bright a light upon her household, as if
+it bounded her horizon. Nay, more, there may be minds in her household
+that need the reciprocation of an equal mind, or the support of a
+superior one; there may be spirits in her family that will receive from
+the influence of intellect, what they would not from simple and good
+intention. There may be other wants in her neighborhood than hunger and
+nakedness, and other defaulters than the ignorant and the poor. Whether
+she writes, speaks, or acts, the effect is not bounded by time, nor
+limited by space. That is worth telling of her, and is repeated from
+mouth to mouth, which, in an ordinary person, none would notice. Her
+acknowledged superiority gives her a title, as well as a capacity to
+speak, where others must be silent, and carry counsel and consolation
+where commoner characters might not intrude.
+
+"The mass of human misery, and human need, and human corruption, is not
+confined to the poor, the simple minded, and the child. The husband's
+and the parent's cares are not confined to their external commodities,
+nor the children's to the well-being of their physical estate. The mind
+that could illumine its own solitude, can cheer another's destitution;
+the strength that can support itself, can stay another's falling; the
+wealth may be unlocked, and supply another's poverty. Those who in
+prosperity seek amusement from superior talent, will seek it in
+difficulty or advice, and in adversity for support."
+
+Here I made up my mind to have a great deal of intellect.
+
+"If I granted your position on the subject of utility," said Mrs. W., "I
+am afraid I should prove the world very ungrateful by the remainder of
+my argument; which goes, you know, to prove the woman of distinguished
+talent less beloved than those who walk the ordinary paths of female
+duty. I must take the risk, however; for, of all women in the world,
+your women of genius are those I love the least; and I believe, just or
+unjust, it is a very common feeling. We are not disposed to love our
+superiors in any thing; but least of all, in intellect; one has always
+the feeling of playing an equal game, without being sure that no
+advantage will be taken of your simplicity. A woman who has the
+reputation of talent, is, in this respect, the most unfortunate being on
+earth. She stands in society, like a European before a horde of savages,
+vainly endeavoring to signify his good intentions. If he approaches
+them, they run away; if he recedes, they send their arrows after him.
+Every one is afraid to address her, lest they expose to her penetration
+their own deficiencies. If she talks, she is supposed to display her
+powers; if she holds her tongue, it is attributed to contempt for the
+company. I know that talent is often combined with every amiable
+quality, and renders the character really the more lovely; but not
+therefore the more beloved. It would, if known; but it seldom is known,
+because seldom approached near enough to be examined.
+
+"The simple-minded fear what they do not understand; the double-minded
+envy what they cannot reach. For my good, simple housewife, every body
+loves her who knows her; and nobody, who does not know her, troubles
+themselves about her. But place a woman on an eminence, and every body
+thinks they are obliged to like or dislike her; and, being too tenacious
+to do the one without good reason, they do the other without any reason
+at all. Before we can love each other, there must be sympathy,
+assimilation, and, if not equality, at least such an approach to it as
+may enable us to understand each other. When any one is much superior to
+us, our humility shrinks from the proffers of her love, and our pride
+revolts from offering her our own. Real talent is always modest, and
+fears often to make advances towards affection, lest it should seem, in
+doing so, to presume upon itself; but, having rarely the credit of
+timidity, this caution is attributable to pride. Your superior woman,
+therefore, will not be generally known or beloved by her own sex, among
+whom she may have many admirers, but few equals.
+
+"I say nothing of marriage, because I am not speculating upon it for my
+child, as upon the chances of a well-played game; but it is certain that
+the greater number of men are not highly intellectual, and therefore
+could not wisely choose a highly intellectual wife, lest they place
+themselves in the condition in which a husband should not be--of mental
+inferiority."
+
+"Mrs. W.," answered her friend, "I am aware this is your strongest post;
+but I must not give ground without a battle. A great deal I shall yield
+you. I shall give up quantity, and stand upon the value of the
+remainder. Be it granted, then, that of any twenty people assembled in
+society, every one of whom will pronounce your common-place woman to be
+very amiable, very good, and very pleasing, ten shall pronounce my
+friend too intellectual for their taste, eight shall find her not so
+clever as they expected, and, of the other two, one at least shall not
+be sure whether they like her or not. Be it granted that, of every five
+ladies assembled to gossip freely, and tell out their small cares and
+feelings to the sympathizing kindness of your friend, four shall become
+silent as wax-work on the entrance of mine. And be it granted that, of
+any ten gentlemen to whom yours would be a very proper wife, not more
+than one could wisely propose himself to mine. But have I therefore lost
+the field? Perhaps she would tell you no; the two in twenty, the one in
+five or ten, are of more value, in her estimation, than all the number
+else.
+
+"Things are not apt to be valued by their abundance. On the jeweler's
+stall, many a brilliant trinket will disappear, ere the high-priced gem
+be asked for; but is it, therefore, the less valued, or the less cared
+for? When beloved at all, she is loved permanently; for, in the lapse of
+time, that withers the charm of beauty, and blights the simplicity of
+youth, her ornaments grow but the brighter for wearing. In proportion
+to the depth of the intellect, I believe, is the depth of every thing;
+feelings, affections, pleasures, pains, or whatever else the enlarged
+capacity conceives. It is difficult perhaps for an inferior mind to
+estimate what a superior mind enjoys in the reciprocation of affection.
+Attachment, with ordinary persons, is enjoyed to-day, and regretted
+to-morrow, and the next day replaced and forgotten; but with these it
+never can be forgotten, because it can never be replaced."
+
+As the argument, thus terminated, converted neither party, it is
+needless to say it left me in suspense. Mrs. W. was still determined her
+child should not be a superior woman. Mrs. A. was still resolved her
+child should be, at all ventures; and I was still undetermined whether I
+would endeavor to be a learned woman or not. The little Fanny laughed
+aloud, opened her large round eyes, and shouted, "So I will, mamma!" The
+little Jemima colored to the ends of her fingers, and lowered still
+farther the lashes that veiled her eyes.
+
+
+
+
+EASILY DECIDED.
+
+
+I was walking with some friends in a retired part of the country. It had
+rained for fourteen days before, and I believed it rained then; but
+there was a belief among the ladies of that country that it is better to
+walk in all weather. The lane was wide enough to pass in file, with
+chilly droppings from the boughs above, and rude re-action of the briers
+beneath. The clay upon our shoes showed a troublesome affinity to the
+clay upon the road. Umbrellas we could not hold up because of the wind.
+But it was better to walk than stay at home, so at least my companions
+assured me, for exercise and an appetite. After pursuing them, with
+hopeless assiduity, for more than a mile, without sight of egress or
+sign of termination, finding I had already enough of the one, and
+doubting how far the other might be off, I lagged behind, and began to
+think how I might amuse myself till their return.
+
+By one of those fortunate incidents, which they tell me never happen to
+any body but a listener, I heard the sound of voices over the hedge.
+This was delightful. In this occupation I forgot both mud and rain,
+exercise and appetite. The hedge was too thick to see through, and all
+that appeared above it was a low chimney, from which I concluded it
+concealed a cottage garden.
+
+"What in the name of wonder, James, can you be doing?" said a voice,
+significant of neither youth nor gentleness.
+
+"I war'nt ye know what I am about," said another, more rudely than
+unkindly.
+
+"I'm not sure of that," rejoined the first; "you've been hacking and
+hewing at them trees this four hours, and I do not see, for my part, as
+you're like to mend them."
+
+"Why, mother," said the lad, "you see we have but two trees in all the
+garden, and I've been thinking they'd match better if they were alike;
+so I've tied up to a pole the boughs of the gooseberry-bush, that used
+to spread themselves about the ground, to make it look more like this
+thorn; and now I'm going to cut down the thorn to make it look more like
+the gooseberry-bush."
+
+"And what's the good of that?" rejoined the mother; "has not the tree
+sheltered us many a stormy night, when the wind would have beaten the
+old casement about our ears? and many a scorching noon-tide, hasn't your
+father eaten his dinner in its shade? And now, to be sure, because you
+are the master, you think you can mend it!"
+
+"We shall see," said the youth, renewing his strokes. "It's no use as it
+is; I dare say you'd like to see it bear gooseberries."
+
+"No use!" exclaimed the mother; "don't the birds go to roost on the
+branches, and the poultry get shelter under it from the rain? and after
+all your cutting, I don't see as you're likely to turn a thorn-tree into
+a gooseberry-bush!"
+
+"I don't see why I should not," replied the sage artificer, with a tone
+of reflectiveness; "the leaf is near about the same, and there are
+thorns on both; if I make that taller and this shorter, and they grow
+the same shape, I don't suppose you know why one should bear
+gooseberries any more than the other, as wise as you are."
+
+"Why, to be sure, James," the old woman answered, in a moderate voice,
+"I can't say that I do; but I have lived almost through my threescore
+years and ten, and I have never heard of gooseberries growing on a
+thorn."
+
+"Haven't you, though?" said James; "but then I have, or something pretty
+much like it; for I saw the gardener, over yonder, cutting off the head
+of a young pear-tree, and he told me he was going to make it bear
+apples."
+
+"Well," said the mother, seemingly reconciled, "I know nothing of your
+new-fangled ways. I only know it was the finest thorn in the parish;
+but, to be sure, now they are more match-like and regular."
+
+I left a story half told. This may seem to be another, but it is in fact
+the same. James, in the Sussex-lane, and my friends in Montague-square,
+were engaged in the same task, and the result of the one would pretty
+fairly measure the successes of the other; both were contravening the
+order of nature, and pursuing their own purpose, without consulting the
+appointments of Providence.
+
+Fanny was a girl of common understanding; such indeed as suitable
+cultivation might have matured into simple good sense; but from which
+her parents' scheme of education could produce nothing but pretension
+that could not be supported, and an affectation of what could never be
+attained. Conscious of the want of all perceptible talent in her child,
+Mrs. A. from the first told the stories of talent opening late, and the
+untimely blighting of premature intellect; and, to the last, maintained
+the omnipotence of cultivation.
+
+On every new proof of the smallness of her mind, another science was
+added to enlarge it. Languages, dead and living, were to be to her the
+keys of knowledge; but they unlocked nothing to Fanny but their own
+grammars and vocabularies, which she learned assiduously, without so
+much as wondering what they meant. The more dull she proved, the more
+earnestly she was plied. She was sent to school to try the spur of
+emulation; and brought home again for the advantage of more exclusive
+attention. And, as still the progress lagged, all feminine employ and
+childlike recreations were prohibited, to gain more time for study. It
+cannot be said that Fannny's health was injured by the over action of
+her mind; for, having none, it could not be easily acted upon; but, by
+perpetual dronish application, and sacrifice of all external things for
+the furtherance of this scheme of mental cultivation, her physical
+energies were suppressed, and she became heavy, awkward, and inactive.
+
+Fanny had no pleasure in reading, but she had a pride in having read;
+and listened, with no small satisfaction, to her mother's detail of the
+authors she was conversant with; beyond her age, and, as some untalented
+ventured to suggest, not always suited to her years of innocence. The
+arcana of their pages were safe, however, and quite guiltless of her
+mind's corruption. Fanny never thought, whatever she might read; what
+was in the book, was nothing to her; all her business was to _have_ read
+it. Meantime, while the powers he had not were solicited in vain, the
+talents she had were neglected and suppressed. Her good-humored
+enjoyment of ordinary things, her real taste for domestic arrangement,
+and open simplicity of heart, were derided as vulgar and unintellectual.
+Her talent for music was thought not worth cultivating; time could not
+be spared. Some little capacity she had for drawing, as an imitative
+art, was baffled by the determination to teach it her scientifically,
+thus rendering it as impossible as every thing else. In short--for why
+need I prolong my sketch?--Fanny was prepared by nature to be the _beau
+ideal_ of Mrs. W.'s amiable woman.
+
+Constitutionally active and benevolent, judicious culture might have
+made her sensible, and, in common life, intelligent, pleasing, useful,
+happy. Nay, I need only refer to the picture of my former paper, to say
+what Fanny, well educated, was calculated to become. But this was what
+her parents were determined she should not be; and they spent twenty
+years, and no small amount of cash, to make her a woman of superior mind
+and distinguished literary attainments.
+
+I saw the result; for I saw Fanny at twenty, the most unlovely, useless,
+and unhappy being I ever met with. The very docility of a mind, not
+strong enough to choose its own part, and resist the influence of
+circumstances, hastened forward the catastrophe. She had learned to
+think herself what she could not be, and to despise what in reality she
+was; she could not otherwise than do so, for she had been imbued with it
+from her cradle.
+
+She was accustomed from her infancy to intellectual society; kept up to
+listen, when she should have been in bed; she counted the spots on the
+carpet, heard nothing that was said, and prided herself on being one of
+such company. A little later, she was encouraged to talk to every body,
+and give her opinion upon every thing, in order to improve and exercise
+her mind. Her mind remained unexercised, because she talked without
+thinking; but she learned to chatter, to repeat other people's opinions,
+and fancy her own were of immense importance.
+
+She was unlovely, because she sought only to please by means she had
+not, and to please those who were quite beyond her reach; others she had
+been accustomed to neglect as unfit for her companionship. She was
+useless, because what she might have done well, she was unaccustomed to
+do at all, and what she attempted, she was incapable of. And she was
+unhappy, because all her natural tastes had been thwarted, and her
+natural feelings suppressed; and of her acquired habits and
+high-sounding pursuits she had no capacity for enjoyment. Her love of
+classic and scientific lore, her delight in libraries, and museums, and
+choice intellects, and literary circles, was a fiction; they gratified
+nothing but her vanity. Her small, narrow, weak, and dependent mind, was
+a reality, and placed her within reach of mortification and
+disappointment, from the merest and meanest trifles.
+
+Jemima--my little friend Jemima--I lived to see her a woman too. From
+her infancy she had never evinced the tastes and feelings of a child.
+Intense reflection, keen and impatient sensibility and an unlimited
+desire to know, marked her from the earliest years as a very
+extraordinary child; dislike to the plays and exercises of childhood
+made her unpleasing to her companions, and, to superficial observers,
+melancholy; but this was amply contradicted by the eager vivacity of her
+intellect and feeling, when called forth by things beyond the usual
+compass of her age. Every thing in Jemima gave promise of extraordinary
+talent and distinguished character. This her parents saw, and were
+determined to counteract. They had made up their minds what a woman
+should be, and were determined Jemima should be nothing else. Every
+thing calculated to call forth her powers was kept out of her way, and
+childish occupations forced on her in their stead. The favorite maxim
+was, to occupy her mind with common things; she was made to romp, and to
+dance and to play; to read story books, and make dolls' clothes. Her
+physical powers were thus occupied; but where was her mind the while?
+Feeding itself with fancies, for want of truths; drawing false
+conclusions, forming wrong judgments, and brooding over its own
+mistakes, for want of a judicious occupation of its activities.
+
+Another maxim was, to keep Jemima ignorant of her own capacity, lest she
+should set up for a genius, and be undomesticated. She was told she had
+none, and was left in ignorance of what she was capable, and for what
+she was responsible. Made to believe that her fine feelings were
+oddities, her expansive thoughts absurdities, and her love of knowledge
+unfeminine and ungraceful, she kept them to herself, and became
+reserved, timid, and artificial.
+
+Nobody could prevent Jemima's acquiring knowledge; she saw every thing,
+reflected upon every thing, and learned from every thing; but without
+guide, and without discretion, she gathered the honey and the gall
+together, and knew not which was which. She was sent to school that she
+might learn to play, and fetched home that she might learn to be useful.
+In the former place she was shunned as an oddity, because she preferred
+to learn; and, finding herself disliked without deserving it,
+encouraged herself to independence by disliking every body. In the
+latter, she sewed her work awry, while she made a couplet to the moon,
+and unpicked it while she made another; and being told she did every
+thing ill, believed it, and became indolent and careless to do any
+thing. Consumed, meanwhile, by the restless workings of her mind, and
+tasked to exercise for which its delicate frame-work was unfit, her
+person became faded, worn, and feeble.
+
+To be brief, her parents succeeded in baffling nature's promise, but
+failed of the fulfillment of their own. At twenty, Jemima was a puzzle
+to every body, and a weariness to herself. Conscious of her powers, but
+not knowing how to spend them, she gave in to every imaginable caprice.
+Having made the discovery of her superiority, she despised the opinions
+of others, while her own were too ill-formed to be her guide. Proud of
+possessing talent, and yet ashamed to show it; unaccustomed to explain
+herself; certain of being misunderstood, and least of all understanding
+herself; ignorant, in the midst of knowledge, and incapable with
+unlimited capacity; tasteless for every thing she did, and ignorant how
+to do what she had a taste for, her mind was a luxuriant wilderness,
+inaccessible to others, and utterly unproductive to its possessor.
+Unpleasing and unfitted in the sphere she was in, and yet unfitted by
+habit and timidity for any other, weariness and disgust were her daily
+portion; her fine sensibilities, her deep feelings, her expansive
+thoughts, remained; but only to be wounded, to irritate, to mislead her.
+
+Where is the moral of my tale, and what the use of telling it? I have
+told it because I see that God has his purposes in every thing that he
+has done; and man has his own, and disregards them. And every day I hear
+it disputed, with acrimony and much unkindness, what faculties and
+characters it is better to have or not to have, without any
+consideration of what God has given or withheld; and standards are set
+up, by which all must be measured, though, alas! they cannot take from
+or add one cubit to their statures. "There is one glory of the sun, and
+another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star
+differeth from another star in glory." Why do we not censure the sun for
+outshining the stars, and the pale moon for having no light but what she
+borrows?
+
+Instead of settling for others what they ought to be, and choosing for
+ourselves what we will be, would it not be better to examine the
+condition in which we are actually placed, and the faculties actually
+committed to us? and consider what was the purpose of Heaven in the
+former, and what the demand of Heaven in the occupation of the latter?
+If we have much, we are not at liberty to put it aside, and say we
+should be better without it; if we have little, we are not at liberty to
+be dissatisfied, and aspiring after more. And surely we are not at
+liberty to say that another has too much, or too little, of what God has
+given! We may have our preferences, but we must not mistake them for
+standards of right.
+
+Every character has beauties peculiar to itself, and dangers to which it
+is peculiarly exposed; and there are duties, pertaining to each, apart
+from the circumstances in which they may be placed. Nothing, therefore,
+can be more contrary to the manifest order and disposition of
+Providence, than to endeavor to be, or do, whatever we admire in
+another, or to force ourselves to be and do whatever we admire in
+ourselves. Which character, of the endless variety that surrounds us, is
+the most happy, the most useful, and most deserving to be beloved, it
+were impossible, I believe, to decide; and, if we could, we have gained
+little by the decision; for we could neither give it to our children,
+nor to ourselves. But of this we may be certain: that individual, of
+whatever intellectual character, is the happiest, the most useful, and
+the most beloved of God, if not of men, who has best subserved the
+purposes of Heaven in her creation and endowment; who has most carefully
+turned to good the faculties she has; most cautiously guarded against
+the evils to which her propensities incline; most justly estimated, and
+conscientiously fulfilled, the duties appropriate to her circumstance
+and character.
+
+
+
+
+INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON WOMAN.
+
+
+The abject condition of the female sex, in all, out of Christian
+countries, is universally known and admitted. In all savage and pagan
+tribes, the severest burdens of physical toil are laid upon their
+shoulders; they are chiefly valued for the same reason that men value
+their most useful animals, or as objects of their sensual and selfish
+desires. Even in the learned and dignified forms of Eastern paganism,
+"the wife," says one who has spent seventeen years among them, "is the
+slave, rather than the companion of her husband. She is not allowed to
+walk with him, she must walk _behind_ him; not to eat with him, she must
+eat _after_ him, and eat of what he leaves. She must not sleep until he
+is asleep, nor remain asleep after he is awake. If she is sitting, and
+he comes in, she should rise up. She should, say their sacred books,
+have no other god on earth than her husband. Him she should worship
+while he lives, and, when he dies, she should be burnt with him. As the
+widow, in case she is not burnt, is not allowed to marry again, is often
+considered little better than an outcast, and not unfrequently sinks
+into gross vice, her life can scarcely be considered a blessing."
+
+The same author remarks, that "there is little social intercourse
+between the sexes; little or no acquaintance of the parties before
+marriage, and consequently little mutual attachment; and as there is an
+absolute vacuity and darkness in the minds of the females, who are not
+allowed even to learn to read, there is no solid foundation laid for
+domestic happiness."
+
+If we pass into the dominions of the crescent, we find the condition of
+females, in some respects, rather worse, it would seem, than better.
+For, in pagan India, debased and abused as woman is, she is still
+allowed some interest in religion, and some common expectations with the
+other sex, concerning the future state. But in Mohammedan countries,
+even this is nearly or quite denied her. "It is a popular tradition
+among the Mohammedans, which obtains to this day, that woman shall not
+enter Paradise;" and it requires some effort of the imagination to
+conceive how debased and wretched must be the condition of the female
+sex, to originate and sustain such a horrible and blasphemous tradition.
+
+Even in the refined and shining ages of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, where
+the cultivation of letters, the graces of finished style, the charms of
+poetry and eloquence, the elegances of architecture, sculpture,
+painting, and embroidery, the glory of conquest, and the pride of
+national distinction, were unsurpassed by any people before or
+since--even then and there, what was the woman but the abject slave of
+man? the object of his ambition, or his avarice, or his lust, or his
+power? the alternate victim of his pleasures, his disgust, or his
+cruelty? the creature of his caprice? and, what is worse, the menial
+slave of her own mental darkness, moral debasement, and vicious
+indulgences? If history is not false, the answer is decisive. This, and
+only this, was she!
+
+But how entirely has our religion reversed all this, and rendered her
+life a blessing to herself and to society. And as Christianity has done
+so much for woman, she ought in return to do much for Christianity.
+Every thing that can render life desirable, she owes to Christ. Think
+for one moment of the hole of the pit from which Christ has taken you!
+Think of what would be your present condition, had it not been for the
+Christian religion! You might have been with the debased and wretched
+victims of pagan oppression, cruelty, and lust; burning alive upon the
+funeral pile; or sacrificed by hands of violence or pollution; or cast
+out, and neglected, to pine in solitary and hopeless grief. Or, with the
+female followers of the false prophet, or, in more refined but
+unchristian nations, you might have been little else than the slave or
+the convenience of man, and left to doubt whether any inheritance awaits
+you beyond the grave.
+
+From these depths of debasement and wretchedness, Christianity has taken
+you, and placed you on high, to move, and shine, and rejoice, in the
+sphere for which the Creator designed you. Not only has it made your
+condition as good as that of man, but, in a moral view, in some respects
+superior to it. How much, then, do you owe to Christ! To turn away from
+him with indifference or neglect, what ingratitude is this! How
+preposterous, how base, how unlovely, is female impiety! There was much
+sense in a remark made by an intelligent gentleman, who, although not
+pious himself, said: "I cannot look with any complacency upon a woman
+who does not manifest gratitude and love to Jesus Christ. Above all
+things, I hate to see so unnatural an object as an irreligious woman."
+
+Such being the constitution and circumstances of woman, it is the
+manifest intention of God that she should be pre-eminent in moral
+excellence; and, through the influence of this, take a glorious lead in
+the renovation of the world. This she has to some extent ever done. Let
+all females of Christian lands consider well their high calling, their
+solemn responsibility, and their glorious privilege. While many of their
+sex have proved recreant to their trust, and wasted life in vanity and
+in vice, others--an illustrious constellation, the holy and the good of
+ancient time, the mothers and the sisters in Israel, "the chief women,
+not a few," of apostolic times, the bright throng, that have since
+continued to come out from the world, and tread in the steps of Jesus,
+and lead on their fellow-beings to the kingdom of purity and joy--have
+proved to us that, as woman was first to fall, so she is first to rise.
+
+Yes; though it is not hers to amass wealth; to aspire to secular office
+and power; to shine in camps and armies; to hurl the thunders of our
+navies, and gather laurels from the ocean, or to receive the vain
+incense offered to public and popular eloquence: yet, hers it is, to be
+robed with the beauty of Christ; to shine in the honors of goodness; to
+shed over the world the sweet and holy influences of peace, virtue, and
+religion; to be adorned with those essential and imperishable beauties,
+those unearthly stars and diadems, whose lustre will survive, with
+ever-increasing brightness, when all earthly glory will fade and be
+forgotten. Come, then; come to your high duty, your glorious
+privilege--come, and be blessed for ever!
+
+
+
+
+IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO WOMAN.
+
+
+There is nothing so adapted to the wants of woman as religion. She has
+many trials, and she therefore peculiarly needs support; religion is her
+asylum, not only in heavy afflictions, but in petty disquietudes. These,
+as they are more frequent, are perhaps almost as harassing; at least,
+they equally need a sedative influence, and religion is the anodyne. For
+it is religion which, by placing before her a better and more enduring
+happiness than this world can offer, reconciles her to temporary
+privations; and, by acquainting her with the love of God, leads her to
+rest securely upon his providence in present disappointment. It inspires
+her with that true content, which not only endures distress, but is
+cheerful under it.
+
+Resignation is not, as we are too apt to portray her, beauty bowered in
+willows, and bending over a sepulchral urn; neither is she a tragic
+queen, pathetic only in her weeds. She is an active, as well as passive
+virtue; an habitual, not an occasional sentiment. She should be as
+familiar to woman as her daily cross; for acquiescence in the detail of
+Providence is as much a duty, as submission to its result; and
+equanimity amid domestic irritations equally implies religious
+principle, as fortitude under severer trials. It was the remark of one,
+who certainly was not disposed to care for trifles, that "it required as
+much grace to bear the breaking of a china cup, as any of the graver
+distresses of life."
+
+Minor cares are indeed the province of woman; minor annoyances her
+burden. Dullness, bad temper, mal-adroitness, are to her the cause of a
+thousand petty rubs, which too often spoil the euphony of a silver
+voice, and discompose the symmetry of fair features. But the confidence
+which reposes on divine affection, and the charity which covers human
+frailty, are the only specifics for impatience.
+
+And, if religion is such a blessing in the ordinary trials of life, what
+a soothing balm it is in graver sorrows! From these, woman is by no
+means exempt; on the contrary, as her susceptibility is great,
+afflictions press on her with peculiar heaviness. There is sometimes a
+stillness in her grief which argues only its intensity, and it is this
+rankling wound which piety alone can heal. Nothing, perhaps, is more
+affecting than woman's chastened sorrow. Her ties may be severed, her
+fond hopes withered, her young affections blighted, yet peace may be in
+her breast, and heaven in her eye. If the business and turmoil of life
+brush away the tears of manly sorrows, and scarcely leave time even for
+the indulgence of sympathy, woman gathers strength in her solitary
+chamber, to encounter and subdue her grief. There she learns to look
+her sorrow in the face; there she becomes familiar with its features;
+there she communes with it, as with a celestial messenger; till at
+length she can almost welcome its presence, and hail it as the harbinger
+of a brighter world.
+
+Religion is her only elevating principle. It identifies itself with the
+movements of her heart and with the actions of her life, spiritualizing
+the one and ennobling the other. Duties, however subordinate, are to the
+religious woman never degrading; their principle is their apology. She
+does not live amidst the clouds, or abandon herself to mystic
+excitement; she is raised above the sordidness, but not above the
+concerns, of earth; above its disquietudes, but not above its cares.
+
+Religion is just what woman needs. Without it, she is ever restless and
+unhappy; ever wishing to be relieved from duty or from time. She is
+either ambitious of display, or greedy of pleasure, or sinks into a
+listless apathy, useless to others and unworthy of herself. But when the
+light from heaven shines upon her path, it invests every object with a
+reflected radiance. Duties, occupations, nay, even trials, are seen
+through a bright medium; and the sunshine which gilds her course on
+earth, is but the dawning of a far clearer day.
+
+
+     *     *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+   The following words were inconsistently hyphenated:
+
+      house-wife / housewife
+      time-piece / timepiece
+
+   Other errors:
+
+      Original
+        Page
+         11    Missing period after 'other'
+               ....each other "_Familiarity_," says....
+         72    Missing period after 'it'
+               ....could not help it She sang to Nurse....
+        124    extra 'n' in the name Fanny
+               ....cannot be said that Fannny's health....
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 16802-8.txt or 16802-8.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/8/0/16802
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/16802-8.zip b/16802-8.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..cc046f5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-8.zip
diff --git a/16802-h.zip b/16802-h.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..125db74
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h.zip
diff --git a/16802-h/16802-h.htm b/16802-h/16802-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d1af6c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/16802-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,3984 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN"
+    "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd">
+<html>
+<head>
+<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" />
+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Ladies' Vase, by An American Lady</title>
+    <style type="text/css">
+/*<![CDATA[  XML blockout */
+<!--
+    p {  margin-top: .75em;
+         text-align: justify;
+         margin-bottom: .75em;
+         }
+    h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 {
+         text-align: center; /* all headings centered */
+         clear: both;
+         }
+    h2.chapterhead  {margin-top: 4em; font-weight: normal;}
+
+    hr { width: 33%;
+	 margin-top: 2em;
+	 margin-bottom: 2em;
+         margin-left: auto;
+         margin-right: auto;
+         clear: both;
+       }
+    hr.tptop {margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 0; border: solid black 1px; }
+    hr.tpbot {margin-top: 0; margin-bottom: 2em; border: solid black 1px; }
+
+    body{margin-left: 10%;
+         margin-right: 10%;
+        }
+
+    ul.TOC    { list-style-type: none;
+                position: relative;
+                width: 88%;}
+    span.ralign {position: absolute; right: 0; top: auto;}
+
+    table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;}
+
+    img      {border: 0;}
+
+    .triple   {font-size: 300%; width: 80%; font-weight: lighter;}
+
+    .pagenum  {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right; color: gray;} /* page numbers */
+
+    .bb       {border-bottom: solid 2px;}
+    .bl       {border-left: solid 2px;}
+    .bt       {border-top: solid 2px;}
+    .br       {border-right: solid 2px;}
+    .bbox     {border: solid 2px;}
+
+    .center   {text-align: center;}
+    .smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
+ ���.right ���{text-align: right;}
+
+
+    .figcenter   {margin: auto; text-align: center;}
+
+    .poem             {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;}
+    .poem br          {display: none;}
+    .poem .stanza     {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;}
+    .poem span.i0     {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i2     {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    .poem span.i4     {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;}
+    hr.full { width: 100%;
+              margin-top: 0em;
+              margin-bottom: 0em;
+              border: solid black;
+              height: 5px; }
+    pre      {font-size: x-small;}
+    // -->
+    /* XML end  ]]>*/
+    </style>
+</head>
+<body>
+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Ladies' Vase, by An American Lady</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Ladies' Vase</p>
+<p>       Polite Manual for Young Ladies</p>
+<p>Author: An American Lady</p>
+<p>Release Date: October 4, 2005  [eBook #16802]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Julia Miller,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (https://www.pgdp.net/)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<table border="0" cellpadding="10" style="background-color: #ccccff;">
+  <tr>
+    <td valign="top">
+      Transcriber's Note:
+    </td>
+    <td>
+      Printer's errors from the original book, such as
+	  inconsistent hyphenation and missing punctuation, have been retained in
+	  this version of the text. A <a href="#T_Note">list</a> of these errors is located at
+      the end of the text.
+    </td>
+  </tr>
+</table>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 243px;">
+<a name="frontispiece" id="frontispiece"></a>
+<a href="images/img01-full.jpg"><img src="images/img01.jpg" width="243" height="400" alt="Frontispiece" title="Frontispiece" /></a>
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[i]<a name="Page_i" id="Page_i"></a></span></p>
+
+
+<h3>THE</h3>
+
+<h1>LADIES' VASE;</h1>
+
+<h3>OR</h3>
+
+<h2>POLITE MANUAL</h2>
+
+<h3>FOR</h3>
+
+<h2>YOUNG LADIES.</h2>
+
+<hr class="tptop" style="width: 200px;" />
+
+<h2 style="font-weight: normal;">Original and Selected.</h2>
+
+<hr class="tpbot" style="width: 200px;" />
+
+<h4>BY AN</h4>
+
+<p class="center">AMERICAN LADY.</p>
+
+<hr class="tptop" style="width: 100px;"/>
+
+<p style="font-size: 80%; text-align: center;">EIGHTH EDITION.</p>
+
+<hr class="tpbot" style="width: 100px;"/>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p style="font-size: large; text-align: center;">HARTFORD:<br />
+H.S. PARSONS AND CO.<br />
+1849.
+</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[ii]<a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii"></a></span></p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<hr class="tptop" style="width: 10em;" />
+
+<p class="center">Stereotyped by<br />
+RICHARD H. HOBBS.<br />
+Hartford, Conn.</p>
+
+<hr class="tpbot" style="width: 10em;"  />
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[iii]<a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>So many volumes have already appeared before the public, similar in
+character to this little work, that it is with feelings of diffidence we
+bring our humble offering, especially when we consider the rich merit
+possessed by many of its predecessors. But our apology must be found in
+the fact that these publications are, from their size, and consequent
+expense, inaccessible to many of the class whose improvement they are so
+well adapted to promote. Considering the formation of female character
+and manners a matter of inestimable importance, especially at the
+present age, swayed as it is by moral <span class='pagenum'>[iv]<a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv"></a></span>rather than by physical force, we
+have carefully availed ourselves of the best advice of some of our most
+judicious writers on female education; and, by presenting our work in a
+cheaper form than any of this class which is now before the public, hope
+to render it attainable to all those for whom it is especially designed.</p>
+
+<p><i>April 16, 1847.</i></p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[v]<a name="Page_v" id="Page_v"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS.</h2>
+
+
+
+<table style="width: 60%" summary="Table of Contents">
+<tr>
+  <td style="width: 10em;"><span class="smcap">Politeness</span>,</td>
+  <td style="width: 1em;"></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#POLITENESS">7</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">True and False Politeness</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#TRUE_AND_FALSE_POLITENESS">9</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Importance of Good Manners</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#IMPORTANCE_OF_GOOD_MANNERS">13</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Self-Possession</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#SELF-POSSESSION">16</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Good Company</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#GOOD_COMPANY">19</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Friendship</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#FRIENDSHIP">21</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Kindred Hearts</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#KINDRED_HEARTS">28</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Conversation</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#CONVERSATION">30</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Exaggeration</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#EXAGGERATION">34</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Egotism</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#EGOTISM">37</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Gentleness</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#GENTLENESS">44</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Sisterly Virtues</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#SISTERLY_VIRTUES">46</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Home</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#HOME">49</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Fireside Influence</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#FIRESIDE_INFLUENCE">51</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Personal Appearance</span>,</td>
+  <td><span class="triple">{</span></td>
+  <td><span class="smcap">The Teeth</span>,<br />
+      <span class="smcap">The Hair</span>,<br />
+      <span class="smcap">The Hands</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"> <a href="#PERSONAL_APPEARANCE">54</a><br />
+      <a href="#HAIR">57</a><br />
+      <a href="#HANDS">59</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Dress</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#DRESS">61</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="3"><span class="pagenum">[vi]<a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi"></a></span><span class="smcap">Compression of the Lungs</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#COMPRESSION_OF_THE_LUNGS">64</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Letter-Writing</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#LETTER-WRITING">68</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Music</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#MUSIC">71</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Flowers</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#FLOWERS">73</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Time</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#TIME">76</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Novel-Reading</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#NOVEL-READING">85</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Female Romance</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#FEMALE_ROMANCE">89</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Behavior to Gentlemen</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#BEHAVIOR_TO_GENTLEMEN">95</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td><span class="smcap">Marriage</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#MARRIAGE">101</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Marriage Hymn</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#MARRIAGE_HYMN">104</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Female Influence</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#FEMALE_INFLUENCE">105</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">A Difficult Question</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#A_DIFFICULT_QUESTION">109</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="2"><span class="smcap">Easily Decided</span>,</td>
+  <td></td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#EASILY_DECIDED">121</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Influence of Christianity on Woman</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#INFLUENCE_OF_CHRISTIANITY_ON_WOMAN">132</a></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+  <td colspan="3"><span class="smcap">Importance of Religion to Woman</span>,</td>
+  <td class="right"><a href="#IMPORTANCE_OF_RELIGION_TO_WOMAN">137</a></td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[7]<a name="Page_7" id="Page_7"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 style="margin-top: 4em;"><a name="POLITENESS" id="POLITENESS"></a>LADIES' VASE.</h2>
+
+<h2 style="margin-top: 2em; font-weight: normal;">POLITENESS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Politeness, like every thing else in one's character and conduct, should
+be based on Christian principle. "Honor all men," says the apostle. This
+is the spring of good manners; it strikes at the very root of
+selfishness: it is the principle by which we render to all ranks and
+ages their due. A respect for your fellow-beings&mdash;a reverence for them
+as God's creatures and our brethren&mdash;will inspire that delicate regard
+for their rights and feelings, of which good manners is the sign.</p>
+
+<p>If you have truth&mdash;not the truth of policy, but religious truth&mdash;your
+manners will be sincere. They will have earnestness, simplicity, and
+frankness&mdash;the best qualities of manners. They will be free from
+assumption, pretense, affectation, flattery, and obsequiousness, which
+are all incompatible with sincerity. If you have sincerity, you will
+choose to appear no other, nor better, than you are&mdash;to dwell in a true
+light.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[8]<a name="Page_8" id="Page_8"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>We have often insisted, that the Bible contains the only rules necessary
+in the study of politeness. Or, in other words, that those who are the
+real disciples of Christ, cannot fail to be truly polite. Thus, let the
+young woman who would possess genuine politeness, take her lessons, not
+in the school of a hollow, heartless world, but in the school of Jesus
+Christ. I know this counsel may be despised by the gay and fashionable;
+but it will be much easier to despise it, than to prove it to be
+incorrect.</p>
+
+<p>"Always think of the good of the whole, rather than of your own
+individual convenience," says Mrs. Farrar, in her <i>Young Ladies'
+Friend</i>. A most excellent rule; and one to which we solicit your earnest
+attention. She who is thoroughly imbued with the Gospel spirit, will not
+fail to do so. It was what our Savior did continually; and I have no
+doubt that his was the purest specimen of good manners, or genuine
+politeness, the world has ever witnessed; the politeness of Abraham
+himself not excepted.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 110px;">
+<img src="images/img02.jpg" width="110" height="111" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[9]<a name="Page_9" id="Page_9"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="TRUE_AND_FALSE_POLITENESS" id="TRUE_AND_FALSE_POLITENESS"></a>TRUE AND FALSE POLITENESS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Every thing really valuable is sure to be counterfeited. This applies
+not only to money, medicine, religion, and virtue, but even to
+politeness. We see in society the truly polite and the falsely polite;
+and, although all cannot explain, all can feel the difference. While we
+respect the one, we despise the other. Men hate to be cheated. An
+attempt to deceive us, is an insult to our understandings and an affront
+to our morals. The pretender to politeness is a cheat. He tries to palm
+off the base for the genuine; and, although he may deceive the vulgar,
+he cannot overreach the cultivated. True politeness springs from right
+feelings; it is a good heart, manifesting itself in an agreeable life;
+it is a just regard for the rights and happiness of others in small
+things; it is the expression of true and generous sentiments in a
+graceful form of words; it regards neatness and propriety in dress, as
+something due to society, and avoids tawdriness in apparel, as offensive
+to good taste; it avoids selfishness in conduct and roughness in
+manners: hence, a polite person is called a <i>gentle</i> man. True
+politeness is the smoothness of a refined mind and the tact of a kind
+heart.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[10]<a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>Politeness is a word derived from the Greek word <i>polis</i>, which means a
+city&mdash;the inhabitants of which are supposed, by constant intercourse
+with each other, to be more refined in manners than the inhabitants of
+the country. From <i>polis</i>, comes our English word <i>polish</i>, which
+signifies an effect produced by rubbing down roughnesses until the
+surface is smoothed and brightened: hence, we speak of polished minds
+and polished manners. Persons in good society rub against each other
+until their sharp points are worn down, and their intercourse becomes
+easy. The word <i>urbanity</i> comes from the Latin word <i>urbs</i>; that, also,
+means a city, and it signifies politeness, gentleness, polish, for a
+similar reason.</p>
+
+<p>In mingling with our fellow-men, there is a constant necessity for
+little offices of mutual good will. An observing and generous-minded
+person notices what gives him offense, and what pleases him in the
+conduct of others; and he seeks at once to correct or cultivate similar
+things in himself. He acts upon the wise, Christian principle of doing
+to others as he would have them do to him. Hence, in dress and person,
+he is clean and neat; in speech, he is courteous; in behavior,
+conciliating; in the pursuit of his own interests, unobtrusive. No truly
+polite person appears to notice bodily defects or unavoidable
+imperfections in others; and, above all, he never sneers at religion,
+either in its doctrines, ordinances, or professors.</p>
+
+<p>False politeness is but a clumsy imitation of all <span class='pagenum'>[11]<a name="Page_11" id="Page_11"></a></span>this. It is selfish
+in its object, and superficial in its character. It is a slave to
+certain forms of speech, certain methods of action, and certain fashions
+of dress. It is insincere; praising where it sees no merit, and excusing
+sin where it beholds no repentance. It is the offspring of selfishness;
+perverting the golden rule by flattering stupidity and winking at vice,
+with the hope of being treated in the same way by the community. It is a
+bed of flowers, growing over a sepulchre, and drawing its life from the
+loathsome putrefaction within.</p>
+
+<p>Yet, insincere and wrong as are the motives to false politeness, it is,
+after all, better than vulgarity. It is the cotton batting, that keeps
+the glass vases of society from dashing against each other
+<a name="Familiarity" id="Familiarity"></a>"<i>Familiarity</i>," says the proverb, "<i>breeds contempt</i>;" and this is
+found true, whenever coarse minds with rude manners come in contact.
+Careless of the little decencies of society; selfish in selecting the
+best seat in the room, or the best dish at the table; unwashed in
+person, and slovenly in dress: what is this but an open proclamation of
+utter disregard for others? How soon contempt must follow!</p>
+
+<p>Let the young polish their manners, not by attending to mere artificial
+rules, but by the cultivation of right feelings. Let them mingle with
+refined society as often as they can; and, by refined society, I do not
+mean those whom you find in the ball-room&mdash;in the theater&mdash;in the
+crowded party, or those&mdash;however wealthy, or richly dressed&mdash;you feel to
+be only artificially <span class='pagenum'>[12]<a name="Page_12" id="Page_12"></a></span>polite; but I mean those who make you feel at ease
+in their society, while, at the same time, they elevate your aims and
+polish your manners. What a good style is to noble sentiments,
+politeness is to virtue.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/img03.jpg" width="150" height="187" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[13]<a name="Page_13" id="Page_13"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="IMPORTANCE_OF_GOOD_MANNERS" id="IMPORTANCE_OF_GOOD_MANNERS"></a>IMPORTANCE OF GOOD MANNERS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There is something in the very constitution of human nature which
+inclines us to form a judgment of character from manners. It is always
+taken for granted, unless there is decisive evidence to the contrary,
+that the manners are the genuine expression of the feelings. And even
+where such evidence exists&mdash;that is, where we have every reason to
+believe that the external appearance does injustice to the moral
+dispositions; or, on the other hand, where the heart is too favorably
+represented by the manners&mdash;there is still a delusion practiced upon the
+mind, by what passes under the eye, which it is not easy to resist. You
+may take two individuals of precisely the same degree of intellectual
+and moral worth, and let the manners of the one be bland and attractive,
+and those of the other distant or awkward, and you will find that the
+former will pass through life with far more ease and comfort than the
+latter; for, though good manners will never effectually conceal a bad
+heart, and are, in no case, any atonement for it, yet, taken in
+connection with amiable and virtuous dispositions, they naturally and
+necessarily gain upon the respect and goodwill of mankind.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[14]<a name="Page_14" id="Page_14"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>You will instantly perceive&mdash;if the preceding remarks be correct&mdash;that
+it is not only your interest to cultivate good manners, as you hereby
+recommend yourself to the favorable regards of others, but also your
+duty, as it increases, in no small degree, your means of usefulness. It
+will give you access to many persons, and give you an influence over
+those whom you could otherwise never approach; much less, whose feelings
+and purposes you could never hope, in any measure, to control.</p>
+
+<p>"If I should point you to the finest model of female manners which it
+has ever been my privilege to observe," says a late writer, in a letter
+to his daughter, "and one which will compare with the most perfect
+models of this or any other age, I should repeat a venerated name&mdash;that
+of Mrs. Hannah More. It was my privilege, a few years ago, to make a
+visit to the residence of this distinguished female; a visit which I
+have ever since regarded as among the happiest incidents of my life. At
+that time, she numbered more than fourscore years, but the vigor of her
+intellect was scarcely impaired; and, from what she was, I could easily
+conceive what she had been when her sun was at its meridian. In her
+person, she was rather small, but was a specimen of admirable symmetry.
+In her manners, she united the dignity and refinement of the court, with
+the most exquisite urbanity and gentleness which the female character,
+in its loveliest forms, ever exhibited. She impressed me continually
+with a <span class='pagenum'>[15]<a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"></a></span>sense of the high intellectual and moral qualities by which she
+was distinguished, but still left me as unconstrained as if I had been
+conversing with a beloved child. There was an air of graceful and
+unaffected ease; an instinctive regard to the most delicate proprieties
+of social intercourse; a readiness to communicate, and yet a desire to
+listen; the dignity of conscious merit, united with the humility of the
+devoted Christian: in short, there was such an assemblage of
+intellectual and moral excellences beaming forth in every expression,
+and look, and attitude, that I could scarcely conceive of a more perfect
+exhibition of human character. I rejoice that it is the privilege of all
+to know Mrs. More through her works; and I can form no better wish for
+you than that you may imbibe her spirit, and walk in her footsteps."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img04.jpg" width="112" height="183" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[16]<a name="Page_16" id="Page_16"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="SELF-POSSESSION" id="SELF-POSSESSION"></a>SELF-POSSESSION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Self-possession is the first requisite to good manners; and, where it is
+wanting, there is generally a reason for it, in some wrong feeling or
+appreciation of things. Vanity, a love of display, an overweening desire
+to be admired, are great obstacles to self-possession; whereas, a
+well-disciplined and well-balanced character will generally lead to
+composure and self-command. In a very elegant assemblage, in a large
+drawing-room in a Southern city, I saw a young lady walk quietly and
+easily across the apartment to speak to a friend, who said to her: "I
+wanted very much to get to you, but I had not the courage to cross the
+room. How could you do it?&mdash;all alone, too, and with so many persons
+looking at you!" "I did not think of any body's looking at me," was the
+reply; and in that lay the secret of her self-possession. Very modest
+people believe themselves to be of too little consequence to be
+observed; but conceited ones, think every body must be looking at them.
+Inexperienced girls, who are not wanting in modesty, are apt to dread
+going into a crowded room, from an idea that every eye will <span class='pagenum'>[17]<a name="Page_17" id="Page_17"></a></span>be turned
+upon them; but after a while they find that nobody cares to look at
+them, and that the greater the crowd, the less they are observed.</p>
+
+<p>Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than
+on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the designing, will
+be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return.
+A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the
+selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see and to hear,
+and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire
+all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you
+can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of
+yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much
+attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident;
+if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others.</p>
+
+<p>The popular belle, who is the envy of her own sex and the admiration of
+the other, has her secret griefs and trials, and thinks she pays very
+dearly for her popularity; while the girl who is least attended to in
+crowded assemblies, is apt to think her's the only hard lot, and that
+there is unmixed happiness in being a reigning belle. She, alone, whose
+steady aim is to grow better and wiser every day of her life, can look
+with an equal eye on both extremes. If your views are elevated, and your
+feelings are ennobled and purified by communion with gifted spirits, and
+with the Father of spirits, you will look calmly on the <span class='pagenum'>[18]<a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"></a></span>gayest scenes
+of life; you will attach very little importance to the transient
+popularity of a ball-room; your endeavor will be to bring home from
+every visit some new idea, some valuable piece of information, or some
+useful experience of life.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/img05.jpg" width="150" height="260" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[19]<a name="Page_19" id="Page_19"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="GOOD_COMPANY" id="GOOD_COMPANY"></a>GOOD COMPANY.</h2>
+
+
+<p>"Good company," says Duclos, "resembles a dispersed republic: the
+members of it are found in all classes. Independent of rank and station,
+it exists only among those who think and feel; among those who possess
+correct ideas and honorable sentiments." The higher classes, constantly
+occupied with the absorbing interests of wealth and ambition, formerly
+introduced into their magnificent saloons a grave and almost diplomatic
+stiffness of manners, of which the solemnity banished nature and
+freedom. The amusements of the lower classes, which rather resembled a
+toil than a recreation, present to the spectator a procedure
+irreconcilable to good taste.</p>
+
+<p>There are, moreover, too many points of resemblance between the manners
+and education of the higher and lower classes, to admit of our finding
+the elements of good society in either of them. The lower orders are
+ignorant, from want of means of instruction; the higher, from indolence
+and perpetually increasing incapacity. It is besides not a little
+curious that, even in the bygone days of ceremonious manners, the higher
+classes, by whom they were practiced, were uniformly taught <span class='pagenum'>[20]<a name="Page_20" id="Page_20"></a></span>by those
+illiterate persons of the lower classes who almost alone practice the
+art of dancing-masters.</p>
+
+<p>It is therefore to the middle class, almost exclusively, that we must
+look for good society; to that class which has not its ideas contracted
+by laborious occupations, nor its mental powers annihilated by luxury.
+In this class, it is truly observed, society is often full of charm:
+every one seems, according to the precept of <i>La Bruy&egrave;re</i>, "anxious,
+both by words and manners, to make others pleased with him and with
+themselves." There are slight differences of character, opinion, and
+interest; but there is no prevailing style, no singular or affected
+customs. An unperceived interchange of ideas and kind offices produces a
+delightful harmony of thoughts and sentiments; and the wish to please
+inspires those affectionate manners, those obliging expressions, and
+those unrestrained attentions, which alone render social unions pleasant
+and desirable.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 94px;">
+<img src="images/img06.jpg" width="94" height="142" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[21]<a name="Page_21" id="Page_21"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="FRIENDSHIP" id="FRIENDSHIP"></a>FRIENDSHIP.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This subject was forcibly presented to my mind by a conversation I
+recently heard in a party of young ladies, and which I take as a pattern
+and semblance of twenty other conversations I have heard in twenty
+similar parties. Friendship was (as it very often is) the subject of the
+discussion; and, though the words have escaped my memory, I can well
+recall the substance of the remarks. One lady boldly asserted that there
+was no such thing as friendship in the world, where all was insincerity
+and selfishness. I looked, but saw not in her youthful eye and
+unfurrowed cheeks any traces of the sorrow and ill-usage that I thought
+should alone have wrung from gentle lips so harsh a sentence, and I
+wondered where in twenty brief years she could have learned so hard a
+lesson. Have known it, she could not! therefore I concluded she had
+taken it upon trust from the poets, who are fain to tell all the ill
+they can of human nature, because it makes better poetry than good.</p>
+
+<p>The remark was taken up, as might have been expected, by a young
+champion, who thought, or said without thinking, that friendship was&mdash;I
+really cannot undertake to say what, but all the <span class='pagenum'>[22]<a name="Page_22" id="Page_22"></a></span>things that young
+ladies usually put into their themes at school: something interminable,
+illimitable, and immutable. From this the discussion grew; and how it
+was, and what it was, went on to be discussed. I cannot pursue the
+thread of the discourse; but the amount of it was this:&mdash;One thought
+friendship was the summer portion only of the blessed; a flower for the
+brow of the prosperous, that the child of misfortune must never gather.
+Another thought that all interest being destructive to its very essence,
+it could not be trusted, unless there was an utter destitution of every
+thing that might recommend us to favor, or requite affection. This lady
+must have been brought to the depth of wretchedness ere she ever could
+be sure she had a friend. Some, I found, thought it was made up of a
+great deal of sensibility, vulgarly called jealousy; that was, to take
+umbrage at every seeming slight, to the indescribable torment of either
+party. Some betrayed, if they did not exactly say it, that they thought
+friendship such an absolute unity, that it would be a less crime to
+worship two gods than to love two friends! Therefore, to bring it to its
+perfection, it was necessary that all beside should be despised and
+disregarded.</p>
+
+<p>Others, very young, and of course soon to grow wiser, thought it
+consisted in the exact disclosure of your own concerns and those of
+every body else with which you might chance to become acquainted;
+others, that it required such exact conformity in opinion, thought, and
+feeling, as <span class='pagenum'>[23]<a name="Page_23" id="Page_23"></a></span>should make it impossible to differ; and others, that it
+implied such generous interference, even with the feelings as well as
+affairs of its object, that it should spend itself in disinterested
+reproaches and unasked advice. But, however differing else, all were
+sure that friendship but usurped the name, unless it were purely
+disinterested, endlessly durable, and beyond the reach of time and
+circumstances to change it; and all were going forth in the full
+certainty of finding friends, each one after the pattern of her own
+imagination, the first speaker only excepted, who was fully determined
+never to find any, or never to trust them, if she did.</p>
+
+<p>I marked, with pained attention, the warm glow of expectation so soon to
+be blighted; and, reflected deeply on the many heart-aches with which
+they must unlearn their errors. I saw that each one was likely to pass
+over and reject the richest blessing of earth, even in the very pursuing
+of it, from having merely sketched, in imagination, an unresembling
+portrait of the object of pursuit. "When friendship meets them," I said,
+"they will not know her. Can no one draw for them a better likeness?"</p>
+
+<p>It is the language of books, and the language of society, that friends
+are inconstant, and friendship but little to be depended on; and the
+belief, where it is really received, goes far to make a truth of that
+which else were false, by creating what it suspects. Few of us but have
+lived already long enough to know the bitterness of <span class='pagenum'>[24]<a name="Page_24" id="Page_24"></a></span>being disappointed
+in our affections, and deceived in our calculations by those with whom,
+in the various relationships of life, we are brought in contact. Perhaps
+the aggregate of pain from this cause is greater than from any other
+cause whatever. And yet, it is much to be doubted whether nearly the
+whole of this suffering does not arise from our own unreasonable and
+mistaken expectations. There are none so unfortunate but they meet with
+some kindness in the world; and none, I believe, so fortunate but that
+they meet with much less than they might do, were it not their own
+fault.</p>
+
+<p>In the first place, we are mistaken in our expectations that friendship
+should be disinterested. It neither is, nor can be. It may be so in
+action, but never in the sentiment; there is always an equivalent to be
+returned. And if we examine the movements of our own hearts, we must be
+sure this is the case; and yet, we are so unreasonable as to expect our
+friends should be purely disinterested; and, after having secured their
+affections, we neglect to pay the price, and expect they should be
+continued to us for nothing. We grow careless of pleasing them;
+inconsiderate of their feelings, and heedless of the government of our
+own temper towards them; and then we complain of inconstancy, if they
+like us not so well as when dressed out in our best for the reception of
+their favor. Yet it is, in fact, we that are changed, not they.</p>
+
+<p>Another fruitful source of disappointment in <span class='pagenum'>[25]<a name="Page_25" id="Page_25"></a></span>our attachments is, that
+while we are much more quick in detecting the faults of others than our
+own, we absurdly require that every one should be faultless but
+ourselves. We do not say that we expect this in our friends; but we do
+expect it, and our conduct proves that we expect it. We begin also with
+believing it. The obscurities of distance; the vail that the proprieties
+of society casts over nature's deformities; the dazzling glitter of
+exterior qualities baffle, for a time, our most penetrating glances, and
+the imperfect vision seems all that we should have it. Our inexperienced
+hearts, and some indeed that should be better taught, fondly believe it
+to be all it seems, and begin their attachment in full hope to find it
+so. What wonder then that the bitterest disappointment should ensue,
+when, on more close acquaintance, we find them full of imperfections,
+perhaps of most glaring faults; and we begin to express disgust,
+sometimes even resentment, that they are not what we took them for.</p>
+
+<p>But was this their fault, or ours? Did they not present themselves to us
+in the garb of mortal flesh?&mdash;and do we not know that mortals are
+imperfect?&mdash;that, however the outside be fair, the interior is corrupt,
+and sometimes vile? He who knows all, alone knows how corrupt it is! the
+heart itself, enlightened by His grace, is more deeply in the secret
+than any without can be; but if the thing we love be mortal, something
+of it we must perceive; and more and more of it we must perceive as we
+look closer. If this is to disap<span class='pagenum'>[26]<a name="Page_26" id="Page_26"></a></span>point and revolt us, and draw harsh
+reproaches and bitter recriminations from our lips, there is but One on
+whom we can fix our hearts with safety; and He is one, alas! we show so
+little disposition to love, as proves that, with all our complainings
+and bewailings of each others' faultiness, our friends are as good as
+will, at present, suit us.</p>
+
+<p>But are we, therefore, to say there is no such thing as friendship, or
+that it is not worth seeking? morosely repel it, or suspiciously
+distrust it? If we do, we shall pay our folly's price in the forfeiture
+of that, without which, however we may pretend, we never are or can be
+happy; preferring to go without the very greatest of all earthly good,
+because it is not what, perhaps, it may be in heaven. Rather than this,
+it would be wise so to moderate our expectation, and adapt our conduct,
+as to gain of it a greater measure, or, as far as may be possible, to
+gather of its flowers without exposing ourselves to be wounded by the
+thorns it bears. This is only to be done by setting out in life with
+juster feelings and fairer expectations.</p>
+
+<p>It is not true, that friends are few and kindness rare. No one ever
+needed friends, and deserved them, and found them not; but we do not
+know them when we see them, or deal with them justly when we have them.
+We must allow others to be as variable, and imperfect, and faulty, as
+ourselves. We do not wish our readers to love their friends less, but to
+love them as what they are, rather than as what they wish them to be;
+and instead of the jealous pertinacity that is wounded by <span class='pagenum'>[27]<a name="Page_27" id="Page_27"></a></span>every
+appearance of change, and disgusted by every detection of a fault, and
+ready to distrust and cast away the kindest friends on every trifling
+difference of behavior and feeling, to cultivate a moderation in their
+demands; a patient allowance for the effect of time and circumstance; an
+indulgence towards peculiarities of temper and character; and, above
+all, such a close examination of what passes in their own hearts, as
+will teach them better to understand and excuse what they detect in the
+hearts of others; ever remembering that all things on earth are earthly;
+and therefore changeful, perishable, and uncertain.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img07.jpg" width="112" height="274" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[28]<a name="Page_28" id="Page_28"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="KINDRED_HEARTS" id="KINDRED_HEARTS"></a>KINDRED HEARTS.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Oh! ask not, hope thou not too much<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of sympathy below;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Few are the hearts whence one same touch,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Bids the same fountain flow;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Few, and by still conflicting powers<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Forbidden here to meet,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Such ties would make this life of ours<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Too fair for aught so fleet.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">It may be that thy brother's eye<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Sees not as thine, which turns,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In such deep reverence, to the sky<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Where the rich sunset burns;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">It may be that the breath of spring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Born amidst violets lone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">A rapture o'er thy soul can bring,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A dream to his unknown.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">The tune that speaks of other times&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">A sorrowful delight!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The melody of distant chimes;<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sound of waves by night;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The wind that with so many a tone<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Some cord within can thrill;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">These may have language all thine own,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To <i>him</i> a mystery still.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[29]<a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Yet scorn thou not for this the true<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And steadfast love of years;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The kindly, that from childhood grew,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The faithful to thy tears!<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If there be one that o'er the dead<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Hath in thy grief borne part,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And watched through sickness by thy bed,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Call <i>his</i> a kindred heart.<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But for those bonds, all perfect made,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Wherein bright spirits blend,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Like sister flowers of one sweet shade,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With the same breeze that bend;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For that full bliss of thought allied,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Never to mortals given,&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Oh! lay thy lovely dreams aside,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Or lift them unto heaven.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img08.jpg" width="112" height="289" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[30]<a name="Page_30" id="Page_30"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="CONVERSATION" id="CONVERSATION"></a>CONVERSATION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Good conversation is one of the highest attainments of civilized
+society. It is the readiest way in which gifted minds exert their
+influence, and, as such, is worthy of all consideration and cultivation.
+I remember hearing an English traveler say, many years ago, on being
+asked how the conversational powers of the Americans compared with those
+of the English&mdash;"Your fluency rather exceeds that of the old world, but
+conversation here is not cultivated as an art." The idea of its being so
+considered any where was new to the company; and much discussion
+followed the departure of the stranger, as to the desirableness of
+making conversation an art. Some thought the more natural and
+spontaneous it was, the better; some confounded art with artifice, and
+hoped their countrymen would never leave their own plain, honest way of
+talking, to become adepts in hypocrisy and affectation. At last one, a
+little wiser than the rest, explained the difference between art and
+artifice; asked the cavilers if they had never heard of the art of
+writing, or the art of thinking? and said he presumed the art of
+conversing was of the same nature. And so it is. By <span class='pagenum'>[31]<a name="Page_31" id="Page_31"></a></span>this art, persons
+are taught to arrange their ideas methodically, and to express them with
+clearness and force; thus saving much precious time, and avoiding those
+tedious narrations which interest no one but the speaker. It enforces
+the necessity of observing the effect of what is said, and leads a
+talker to stop when she finds that she has ceased to fix the attention
+of her audience.</p>
+
+<p>Some persons seem to forget that mere talking is not conversing; that it
+requires two to make a conversation, and that each must be in turn a
+listener; but no one can be an agreeable companion who is not as willing
+to listen as to talk. Selfishness shows itself in this, as in a thousand
+other ways. One who is always full of herself, and who thinks nothing so
+important as what she thinks, and says, and does, will be apt to engross
+more than her share of the talk, even when in the company of those she
+loves.</p>
+
+<p>There are situations, however, wherein it is a kindness to be the chief
+talker: as when a young lady is the eldest of the party, and has seen
+something, or been in some place, the description of which is desired by
+all around her. If your mind is alive to the wishes and claims of
+others, you will easily perceive when it is a virtue to talk and when to
+be silent. It is undue pre-occupation with self which blinds people, and
+prevents their seeing what the occasion requires.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes the most kind and sympathizing person will not do justice to
+her nature, but will appear to be cold and inattentive, because she
+<span class='pagenum'>[32]<a name="Page_32" id="Page_32"></a></span>does not know that it is necessary to give some sign that she is
+attending to what is addressed to her. She averts her eye from the
+speaker, and listens in such profound silence, and with a countenance so
+immovable, that no one could suppose her to be at all interested by what
+she is hearing. This is very discouraging to the speaker and very
+impolite. Good manners require that you should look at the person who
+speaks to you, and that you should put in a word, or a look, from time
+to time, that will indicate your interest in the narrative. A few
+interjections, happily thrown in by the hearer, are a great comfort and
+stimulus to the speaker; and one who has always been accustomed to this
+evidence of sympathy, or comprehension, in their friends, feels, when
+listened to without it, as if she were talking to a dead wall.</p>
+
+<p>For the encouragement of those who feel themselves deficient in
+conversational powers, we will subjoin a notice of the lately-deceased
+wife of a clergyman in this state:</p>
+
+<p>"I saw and felt, when with her, as few others have ever made me feel,
+the power and uses of conversation. With her it was always promotive of
+intellectual and moral life. And here let me inform you, for the
+encouragement of those who may be thinking they would gladly do as she
+did in society, if they were able, that when I first knew Mrs. B., her
+powers of conversation were very small. She was embarrassed whenever she
+attempted to convey her thoughts to others. She labored for expression
+so much, that it was some<span class='pagenum'>[33]<a name="Page_33" id="Page_33"></a></span>times painful to hear her. Still, her social,
+affectionate nature longed for communion with other minds and hearts, on
+all subjects of deepest import. Her persevering efforts at length
+prevailed, and her ardent love of truth gave her utterance: yes, an
+utterance that often delighted, and sometimes surprised, those who heard
+her; a readiness and fluency that are seldom equalled. Learn, then, from
+her, my friends, to <i>exercise</i> your faculties, whatever they may be. In
+this way only can you improve, or even retain them. If you have but one
+talent of any sort, it may not, with impunity to itself&mdash;it may not,
+without sin to you&mdash;be wrapped in a napkin. And sigh not for higher
+powers or opportunities, until you have fully and faithfully exercised
+and improved such as you have. Nor can you know what you possess until
+you have called them into action."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 75px;">
+<img src="images/img09.jpg" width="75" height="182" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[34]<a name="Page_34" id="Page_34"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="EXAGGERATION" id="EXAGGERATION"></a>EXAGGERATION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It is a great mistake to suppose that exaggeration makes a person more
+agreeable, or that it adds to the importance of her statements. The
+value of a person's words is determined by her habitual use of them. "I
+like it much," "It is well done," will mean as much in some mouths, as
+"I am infinitely delighted with it," "'Tis the most exquisite thing I
+ever saw," will in others. Such large abatements are necessarily made
+for the statements of these romancers, that they really gain nothing in
+the end, but find it difficult sometimes to gain credence for so much as
+is really true; whereas, a person who is habitually sober and
+discriminating in his use of language, will not only inspire confidence,
+but be able to produce a fine effect by the occasional use of a
+superlative.</p>
+
+<p>Fidelity and exactness are indispensable in a narrative, and the habit
+of exaggerating destroys the power of accurate observation and
+recollection which would render the story truly interesting. If, instead
+of trying to embellish her account with the fruits of her imagination, a
+young lady possessed the power of seizing upon the points best worth
+describing, and could give an exact <span class='pagenum'>[35]<a name="Page_35" id="Page_35"></a></span>account of them, she would be far
+more entertaining than any exaggeration could make her; for there is no
+romance like that of real life, and no imaginings of an inexperienced
+girl can equal in piquancy the scenes and characters that are every day
+presented to our view. Extravagant expressions are sometimes resorted to
+in order to atone for deficiencies of memory and observation; but they
+will never hide such defects; and an habitual use of them lowers the
+tone of the mind, and leads to other deviations from the simplicity of
+truth and nature.</p>
+
+<p>Another way of falsifying a narrative, is by taking for granted what you
+do not know, and speaking of it as if you did. This jumping at
+conclusions is a fruitful source of false reports, and does great
+mischief in the world. Let no one imagine that she is walking
+conscientiously, who is not in the habit of discriminating nicely
+between what she knows to be fact and what she only supposes to be such.</p>
+
+<p>The frequent use of some favorite word, or phrase, is a common defect in
+conversation, and can only be guarded against by asking your friends to
+point it out to you, whenever they observe such a habit; for your own
+ear, having become accustomed to it, may not detect it. Some persons
+apply the epithets <i>glorious</i> or <i>splendid</i> to all sorts of objects
+indiscriminately, from a gorgeous sunset to a good dinner.</p>
+
+<p>A young lady once tried to describe a pic-nic party to me in the
+following terms: "There were <span class='pagenum'>[36]<a name="Page_36" id="Page_36"></a></span>ten of us&mdash;four on horseback and the rest
+in carriages. We set off at a <i>glorious</i> rate, and had a <i>splendid</i> time
+in getting there; I rode the most <i>elegant</i>, perfect creature you ever
+beheld, and capered along <i>gloriously</i>. When we all got there, we walked
+about in the woods, and gathered the most <i>splendid</i> flowers, and dined
+under the shade of a <i>glorious</i> old elm-tree. We had our cold provisions
+spread out on the grass, and every thing was <i>elegant</i>. We had
+<i>glorious</i> appetites, too, and the ham and ale were <i>splendid</i>, and put
+us all in fine spirits. Some of the gentlemen sang funny songs; but one
+sang such a dreadfully sentimental one, and to such a horrid doleful
+tune, it made us all miserable. So then we broke up, and had a
+<i>splendid</i> time packing away the things; such fun! I had almost killed
+myself with laughing, and we broke half the things. But the ride home
+was the most <i>splendid</i> of all; we arrived at the top of the hill just
+in time to see the most <i>glorious</i> sunset I ever beheld!"</p>
+
+<p>In this short account, the word "glorious" is used five times, and in
+all but the last, it is grossly misapplied. The same is the case with
+the word "splendid," except that it is not once used properly.
+"Elegant," too, is equally inapplicable to horses and cold provisions.
+Yet this style of conversing is so common, that it hardly arrests the
+attention of many, who nevertheless would condemn it at once, if they
+thought at all about it.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[37]<a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="EGOTISM" id="EGOTISM"></a>EGOTISM.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Has it ever happened to any but myself, to listen to I, I, I, in
+conversation, till, wearied with the monotony of the sound, I was fain
+to quarrel with the useful little word, and almost wish I could portray
+its hydra head, and present it in a mirror to my oracles, that they
+might turn away disgusted for ever with its hideous form.</p>
+
+<p>I took up my abode for some time with a lady, whose habits of
+benevolence were extensive, and of whose true philanthropy of heart I
+had heard much. I expected to follow her to the alms-house, the
+hospital, and the garret, and I was not disappointed. Thither she went,
+and for purposes the kindest and most noble. She relieved their pressing
+wants; ministered consolation in the kindest tone; and gave religious
+instruction wherever needed. But, then, she kept a strict calendar of
+all these pious visitings; and that, too, for the entertainment of her
+company. All were called upon to hear the history of the appalling
+scenes she had witnessed; the tears of gratitude that had fallen on her
+hands; the prayers&mdash;half articulate&mdash;that had been offered for her by
+the dying; and to hear her attestations of disregard to the opposition
+she had to encounter in these her labors of <span class='pagenum'>[38]<a name="Page_38" id="Page_38"></a></span>love. Who, with such an
+appeal, could withhold their commendations? I, therefore, of course, as
+I listened again and again to the same tale to different auditors, heard
+many pretty complimentary speeches about magnanimity, &amp;c.; and, getting
+somewhat weary, I drew nearer to the lady's guests, till I actually
+thought I heard from one&mdash;he was a clergyman, I believe&mdash;an inward
+whisper that he would like to refer his friend to the four first verses
+of the sixth chapter of Matthew, but that it would be impolite. If my
+listening powers were too acute when I heard this, let me turn monitor
+at once, and assure my young friends, if they would have their
+conversation listened to with pleasure, they must be economists with
+<i>self</i> as their subject.</p>
+
+<p>On behalf of the very young, we certainly have it to plead, that they
+know very little of any thing but what is, in some sense, their own. If
+they talk of persons, it must be their parents, their brothers and
+sisters, because they are the only people they know; if they talk of any
+body's affairs, it must be their own, because they are acquainted with
+no other; if of events, it must be what happens to themselves, for they
+hear nothing of what happens to any body else. As soon, therefore, as
+children begin to converse, it is most likely to be about themselves, or
+something that belongs to them; and to the rapid growing of this
+unwatched habit, may probably be attributed the ridiculous and offensive
+egotism of many persons in conversation, who, in conduct, prove that
+<span class='pagenum'>[39]<a name="Page_39" id="Page_39"></a></span>their feelings and affections are by no means self-engrossed. But the
+more indigenous this unsightly weed, the more need is there to prevent
+its growth. It has many varieties; the leaf is not always of the same
+shape, nor the flower of the same color, but they are all of one genus;
+and our readers who are botanists will have no difficulty in detecting
+them, however much affected by the soil they grow in. The <i>I's</i> and
+<i>my's</i> a lady exhibits in conversation, will bear such analogy to her
+character, as the wares on the stall of the bazaar bear to the trade of
+the vender. Or, if she have a great deal of what is called tact, she
+will, perhaps, vary the article according to the demands of the market.
+In fashionable life, it will be <i>my</i> cousin Sir Ralph, <i>my</i> father the
+Earl, and <i>my</i> great uncle the Duke; the living relatives and the
+departed fathers; the halls of her family, their rent-rolls, or their
+graves, will afford abundant materials for any conversation she may have
+to furnish.</p>
+
+<p>Among those who, having gotten into the world they know not how, are
+determined it shall, at least, be known that they are there, it is <i>my</i>
+houses, <i>my</i> servants, <i>my</i> park, <i>my</i> gardens; or, if the lady be too
+young to claim in her own behalf, <i>my</i> father's houses, &amp;c., &amp;c., will
+answer all the purpose. But, happily for the supply of this kind of
+talk, rank and wealth, though very useful, are not necessary to it.
+Without any ostentation whatever, but merely from the habit of occupying
+themselves with their own individuality, some <span class='pagenum'>[40]<a name="Page_40" id="Page_40"></a></span>will let the company
+choose the subject; but, be it what it may, all they have to say upon it
+is the <i>I</i>, or the <i>my</i>. Books, travel, sorrow, sickness, nature, art,
+no matter, it is <i>I</i> have seen, <i>I</i> have done, <i>I</i> have been, <i>I</i> have
+learned, <i>I</i> have suffered, <i>I</i> have known. Whatever it be to others,
+the <i>I</i> is the subject for them; for they tell you nothing of the matter
+but their own concern with it. For example, let the city of Naples be
+spoken of: one will tell you what is seen there&mdash;what is done
+there&mdash;what happens there&mdash;and making her reflections on all without
+naming herself; you will only perceive, by her knowledge and remarks,
+that she has been in Naples. Another will tell you how she came there,
+and why she went, and how long she staid, and what she did, and what she
+saw; and the things themselves will appear but as incidents to the idea
+of self.</p>
+
+<p>Some ladies I have known, who, not content with the present display of
+their powers, are determined to re-sell their wares at second-hand. They
+tell you all the witty things they said to somebody yesterday, and the
+wise remarks they made to a certain company last night. <i>I</i> said&mdash;<i>I</i>
+remarked. The commodity should be valuable indeed to be thus brought to
+market a second time. Others there are, who, under pretext of
+confidence&mdash;little complimentary when shown alike to all&mdash;pester people
+with their own affairs. Before you have been two hours in their company,
+you are introduced to all their family, and to all their family's
+concerns, pecuniary affairs, <span class='pagenum'>[41]<a name="Page_41" id="Page_41"></a></span>domestic secrets, and personal feelings&mdash;a
+sort of bird's-eye view of every thing that belongs to them&mdash;past,
+present, and to come; and woe to the secrets of those who may chance to
+have been in connection with these egotists; in such a view, you must
+needs see ten miles around.</p>
+
+<p>There is an egotism, of which we must speak more seriously. Faults, that
+in the world we laugh at, when they attain the dignity and purity of
+sacred things, become matter of serious regret. I speak nothing further
+of the ostentatious display of pious and benevolent exertion. We live at
+a time when religion, its deepest and dearest interests, have become a
+subject of general conversation. We would have it so; but we mark, with
+regret, that self has introduced itself here. The heartless
+loquacity&mdash;we must say heartless, for, in a matter of such deep
+interest, facility of speech bespeaks the feelings light&mdash;the
+unshrinking jabber with which people tell you their soul's
+history&mdash;their past impressions and present difficulties&mdash;their
+doctrines and their doubts&mdash;their manifestations and their
+experiences&mdash;not in the ear of confidence, to have those doubts removed
+and those doctrines verified; not in the ear of anxious inquiry, to
+communicate knowledge and give encouragement, but any where, in any
+company, and to any body who will listen, the <i>I</i> felt&mdash;<i>I</i> thought&mdash;<i>I</i>
+experienced. Sorrows that, if real, should blanch the cheek to think
+upon; mercies that enwrap all hearers in amazement, they will tell as
+unconcernedly as the adventures of the <span class='pagenum'>[42]<a name="Page_42" id="Page_42"></a></span>morning. The voice falters not;
+the color changes not; the eye moistens not. And to what purpose all
+this personality? To get good, or do good? By no means; but that,
+whatever subject they look upon, they always see themselves in the
+foreground of the picture, with every minute particular swelled into
+importance, while all besides is merged in indistinctness.</p>
+
+<p>We may be assured there is nothing so ill-bred, so annoying, so little
+entertaining, so absolutely impertinent, as this habit of talking always
+with reference to ourselves; for every body has a self of their own, to
+which they attach as much importance as we to ours, and see all others'
+matters small in the comparison. The lady of rank has her castles and
+her ancestors&mdash;they are the foreground of her picture. There they stood
+when she came into being; and there they are still, in all the magnitude
+of near perspective; and, if her estimate of their real size be not
+corrected by experience and good sense, she expects that others will see
+them as large as she does. But that will not be so. The lady of wealth
+has gotten her houses and lands in the foreground. These are the larger
+features in her landscape; titles and the castles are seen at a smaller
+angle. Neither lady will admire the proportions of her neighbor's
+drawing, should they chance to discover themselves in each other's
+conversation. She, again&mdash;whether rich or poor&mdash;whose world is her own
+domesticity, sees nothing so prominent as the affairs of her nursery or
+her household; and per<span class='pagenum'>[43]<a name="Page_43" id="Page_43"></a></span>ceives not that, in the eyes of others, her
+children are a set of diminutives, undistinguishable in the mass of
+humanity, in which that they ever existed, or that they cease to exist,
+is matter of equal indifference.</p>
+
+<p>It is thus, that each one attributes to the objects around him, not
+their true and actual proportion, but a magnitude proportioned to their
+nearness to himself. We say not that he draws ill who does so: for, to
+each one, things are important, more or less, in proportion to his own
+interest in them. But hence is the mischief. We forget that every one
+has a self of his own; and that the constant setting forth of ours is,
+to others, preposterous, obtrusive, and ridiculous. The painter who
+draws a folio in the front of his picture, and a castle in the distance,
+properly draws the book the larger of the two: but he must be a fool, if
+he therefore thinks the folio is the larger, and expects every body else
+to think so too. Yet, nothing wiser are we, when we suffer ourselves to
+be perpetually pointing to ourselves, our affairs, and our possessions,
+as if they were as interesting to others as they are important to us.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img10.jpg" width="225" height="41" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[44]<a name="Page_44" id="Page_44"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="GENTLENESS" id="GENTLENESS"></a>GENTLENESS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Nothing is so likely to conciliate the affections of the other sex, as a
+feeling that woman looks to them for support and guidance. In proportion
+as men are themselves superior, they are as accessible to this appeal.
+On the contrary, they never feel interested in one who seems disposed
+rather to offer than to ask assistance. There is, indeed, something
+unfeminine in independence. It is contrary to nature and, therefore, it
+offends. We do not like to see a woman affecting tremors, but still less
+do we like to see her acting the Amazon. A really sensible woman feels
+her dependence; she does what she can, but she is conscious of
+inferiority, and, therefore, grateful for support; she knows that she is
+the weaker vessel, and that, as such, she should receive honor.</p>
+
+<p>In every thing, therefore, that women attempt, they should show their
+consciousness of dependence. If they are learners, let them evince a
+teachable spirit; if they give an opinion, let them do it in an
+unassuming manner. There is something so unpleasant in female
+self-sufficiency, that it not unfrequently deters, instead of
+persuading, and prevents the adoption of advice which the <span class='pagenum'>[45]<a name="Page_45" id="Page_45"></a></span>judgment even
+approves. Yet this is a fault into which women, of certain pretensions,
+are occasionally betrayed. Age, or experience, or superior endowment,
+entitles them, they imagine, to assume a higher place and a more
+independent tone. But their sex should ever teach them to be
+subordinate; and they should remember that influence is obtained, not by
+assumption, but by a delicate appeal to affection or principle. Women,
+in this respect, are something like children; the more they show their
+need of support, the more engaging they are.</p>
+
+<p>The appropriate expression of dependence is gentleness. However endowed
+with superior talents a woman may be, without gentleness she cannot be
+agreeable. Gentleness ought to be the characteristic of the sex; and
+there is nothing that can compensate for the want of this feminine
+attraction.</p>
+
+<p>Gentleness is, indeed, the talisman of woman. To interest the feelings
+is to her much easier than to convince the judgment; the heart is far
+more accessible to her influence than the head. She never gains so much
+as by concession; and is never so likely to overcome, as when she seems
+to yield.</p>
+
+<p>Gentleness prepossesses at first sight; it insinuates itself into the
+vantage ground, and gains the best position by surprise. While a display
+of skill and strength calls forth a counter array, gentleness, at once,
+disarms opposition, and wins the day before it is contested.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[46]<a name="Page_46" id="Page_46"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="SISTERLY_VIRTUES" id="SISTERLY_VIRTUES"></a>SISTERLY VIRTUES.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Sisterly affection is as graceful in its developments to the eye of the
+beholder, as it is cheering to the heart where it resides. There are
+some who, though not deficient in its more important duties, are but too
+regardless of those lesser demonstrations of attachment, which are so
+soothing to the susceptible heart. Every delicate attention which
+tenderness prompts; every mark of politeness which refined society
+requires, ought to pervade the intercourse of brothers and sisters. It
+is a mistake that good manners are to be reserved for visitors, and
+that, in the family circle, negligence and coarseness may be indulged
+with impunity. Even nature's affections may be undermined or shaken by
+perseverance in an improper deportment, more than by lapses into error
+and folly. For the latter, repentance may atone, while the former check
+the flow of the heart's warm fountains, until they stagnate or become
+congealed.</p>
+
+<p>I knew a father, himself a model of polished manners, who required of
+his large family to treat each other, at all times, with the same
+politeness that they felt was due to their most distinguished guest.
+Rudeness, neglect, or indifference were never tolerated in their circle.
+Respect to <span class='pagenum'>[47]<a name="Page_47" id="Page_47"></a></span>each other's opinion; a disposition to please and be
+pleased; care in dress, and courtesy of manner, were not considered
+thrown away, if bestowed on a brother or a sister. Every one of the
+group was instructed to bring amiable feelings and powers of
+entertainment to their own fire side. The result was happy. The brothers
+felt it an honor to wait upon their sisters, and the sisters a pleasure
+to do all in their power for the comfort and improvement of their
+brothers. This daily practice of every decorum, imparted to their
+manners an enduring grace, while the affections, which Heaven implanted,
+seemed to gather strength from the beauty of their interchange. I would
+not assert that fraternal or sisterly affection may not be deep and
+pervading without such an exterior, yet it is surely rendered more
+lovely by it; as the planets might pursue in darkness the order of their
+course, but it is their brilliance which reveals and embellishes it.</p>
+
+<p>Every well-regulated family might be as a perpetual school. The younger
+members, witnessing the example of those whose excellence is more
+confirmed, will be led, by the principle of imitation, more effectually,
+than by the whole force of foreign precept. The custom of the older
+daughters, to assist in the education of their less advanced sisters, I
+rejoice to see, is becoming more common. It cannot be too highly
+applauded. What should prevent their assuming the systematic office of
+instructors, when circumstances are favorable to such an arrangement.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[48]<a name="Page_48" id="Page_48"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>By what method can a daughter more fully evince her gratitude to her
+parents, than by aiding their children in the search of knowledge and of
+goodness. How amiable, how praiseworthy, is that disposition which
+prompts a young and beautiful creature to come forth as the ally of a
+mother, in that most overwhelming of all anxieties, so to train her
+little ones as to form at last an unbroken family in heaven. No better
+apprenticeship could be devised, and no firmer hostage given to God or
+man for its faithful performance.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 72px;">
+<img src="images/img11.jpg" width="72" height="225" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[49]<a name="Page_49" id="Page_49"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="HOME" id="HOME"></a>HOME.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Where burns the lov'd hearth brightest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Cheering the social breast?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where beats the fond heart lightest,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Its humble hopes possess'd?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Where is the smile of sadness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of meek-eyed patience born,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Worth more than those of gladness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which mirth's bright cheek adorn?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Pleasure is marked by fleetness,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">To those who ever roam;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">While grief itself has sweetness<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At home! dear home!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">There blend the ties that strengthen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hearts in hours of grief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The silver links that lengthen<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Joy's visits when most brief;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">There eyes, in all their splendor,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Are vocal to the heart,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And glances, gay or tender,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Fresh eloquence impart;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Then, dost thou sigh for pleasure?<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">O! do not widely roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">But seek that hidden treasure<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At home! dear home!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[50]<a name="Page_50" id="Page_50"></a></span></p>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Does pure religion charm thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Far more than aught below?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Would'st thou that she should arm thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Against the hour of woe?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Think not she dwelleth only<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">In temples built for prayer;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">For home itself is lonely,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Unless her smiles be there;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">The devotee may falter,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The bigot blindly roam,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If worshipless her altar<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At home! dear home!<br /></span>
+</div>
+
+<div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Love over it presideth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With meek and watchful awe,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its daily service guideth,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">And shows its perfect law?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">If there thy faith shall fail thee,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">If there no shrine be found,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">What can thy prayers avail thee<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">With kneeling crowds around?<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Go! leave thy gift unoffered<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Beneath religion's dome,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And be thy first fruits proffered<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">At home! dear home!<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img12.jpg" width="225" height="40" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[51]<a name="Page_51" id="Page_51"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="FIRESIDE_INFLUENCE" id="FIRESIDE_INFLUENCE"></a>FIRESIDE INFLUENCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Is it not true that parents are the lawgivers of their children? Does
+not a mother's counsel&mdash;does not a father's example&mdash;cling to the
+memory, and haunt us through life? Do we not often find ourselves
+subject to habitual trains of thought? and, if we seek to discover the
+origin of these, are we not insensibly led back, by some beaten and
+familiar track, to the paternal threshold? Do we not often discover some
+home-chiseled grooves in our minds, into which the intellectual
+machinery seems to slide, as by a sort of necessity? Is it not, in
+short, a proverbial truth, that the controlling lessons of life are
+given beneath the parental roof? We know, indeed, that wayward passions
+spring up in early life, and, urging us to set authority at defiance,
+seek to obtain the mastery of the heart. But, though struggling for
+liberty and license, the child is shaped and molded by the parent. The
+stream that bursts from the fountain, and seems to rush forward headlong
+and self-willed, still turns hither and thither, according to the shape
+of its mother-earth over which it flows. If an obstacle is thrown across
+its path, it gathers strength, breaks away the barrier, and again bounds
+for<span class='pagenum'>[52]<a name="Page_52" id="Page_52"></a></span>ward. It turns, and winds, and proceeds on its course, till it
+reaches its destiny in the sea. But, in all this, it has shaped its
+course and followed out its career, from babbling infancy at the
+fountain to its termination in the great reservoir of waters, according
+to the channel which its parent earth has provided. Such is the
+influence of a parent over his child. It has within itself a will, and
+at its bidding it goes forward, but the parent marks out its track. He
+may not stop its progress, but he may guide its course. He may not throw
+a dam across its path, and say to it, hitherto mayest thou go, and no
+farther; but he may turn it through safe, and gentle, and useful
+courses&mdash;or he may leave it to plunge over wild cataracts, or lose
+itself in some sandy desert, or collect its strength into a torrent, but
+to spread ruin and desolation along its borders.</p>
+
+<p>The fireside, then, is a seminary of infinite importance: it is
+important, because it is universal, and because the education it
+bestows, being woven in with the woof of childhood, gives form and color
+to the whole texture of life. There are few who can receive the honors
+of a college, but all are graduates of the hearth. The learning of the
+university may fade from the recollection, its classic lore may molder
+in the halls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, enameled upon
+the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more
+mature but less vivid pictures of after days. So deep, so lasting,
+indeed, are the impressions of early life, that we often see a man, <span class='pagenum'>[53]<a name="Page_53" id="Page_53"></a></span>in
+the imbecility of age, holding fresh in his recollection the events of
+childhood, while all the wide space between that and the present hour is
+a blasted and forgotten waste. You have perchance seen an old and
+half-obliterated portrait, and, in the attempt to have it cleaned and
+restored, may have seen it fade away, while a brighter and more perfect
+picture, painted beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, first
+drawn upon the canvas, is no inapt illustration of youth; and, though
+it may be concealed by some after-design, still the original traits will
+shine through the outward picture, giving it tone while fresh, and
+surviving it in decay. Such is the fireside&mdash;the great institution
+furnished by Providence for the education of man.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 75px;">
+<img src="images/img13.jpg" width="75" height="98" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[54]<a name="Page_54" id="Page_54"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="PERSONAL_APPEARANCE" id="PERSONAL_APPEARANCE"></a>PERSONAL APPEARANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<h3 style="font-weight: normal;">THE TEETH.</h3>
+
+<p>The prevalence of defective teeth in this country is the general subject
+of remark by foreigners; and whoever has traveled in Spain and Portugal
+is struck with the superior soundness and whiteness of teeth in those
+countries. Though not a cleanly people in other respects, they wash
+their teeth often, and, by means of toothpicks, carefully remove all
+substances from between them after meals. A little silver porcupine,
+with holes all over its back to insert toothpicks, is a common ornament
+on the dining tables of Spain and Portugal. The general use of them
+creates so large a demand, that students at Coimbra sometimes support
+themselves by whittling toothpicks, which are sold tied in small bunches
+like matches. They are made of willow, on account of its toughness and
+pliability. Toothpicks of metal are too hard, and are apt to injure the
+gums. There is the same objection, in a less degree, to quills. But
+willow toothpicks are preferable to all others; and they have the
+advantage of being the most cleanly, for they generally break in the
+using, and are <span class='pagenum'>[55]<a name="Page_55" id="Page_55"></a></span>thrown away. Few sights are more offensive to a person
+of any refinement than a toothpick that has been much used; it is,
+moreover, uncleanly, and therefore not healthy for the teeth. Food
+allowed to remain between the teeth, particularly animal food, is very
+destructive: it should be carefully removed after every meal, and the
+mouth thoroughly rinsed. This may seem to some like a great talk about a
+small matter; but these are simple precautions to take, and very slight
+trouble compared with the agony of aching teeth, or a breath so
+offensive that your best friend does not wish to sit near you. I can see
+no reason why a man's complexion should exclude him from the
+dining-table, but I do see a very good reason why he should be banished
+for not taking proper care of his teeth. A bad breath is such a
+detestable thing, that it might be a sufficient reason for not marrying
+a person of otherwise agreeable qualities. It is, moreover, perfectly
+inexcusable thus to transform oneself into a walking sepulchre. Nobody
+needs to have an offensive breath. A careful removal of substances from
+between the teeth, rinsing the mouth after meals, and a bit of charcoal
+held in the mouth, will <i>always</i> cure a bad breath. Charcoal, used as a
+dentifrice&mdash;that is, rubbed on in powder with a brush&mdash;is apt to injure
+the enamel; but a lump of it, held in the mouth, two or three times in a
+week, and slowly chewed, has a wonderful power to preserve the teeth and
+purify the breath. The action is purely chemical. It counteracts the
+acid arising from a disordered <span class='pagenum'>[56]<a name="Page_56" id="Page_56"></a></span>stomach, or food decaying about the
+gums; and it is the acid which destroys the teeth.</p>
+
+<p>Every one knows that charcoal is an antiputrescent, and is used in
+boxing up animal or vegetable substances, to keep them from decay. Upon
+the same chemical principle, it tends to preserve the teeth and sweeten
+the breath. There is no danger from swallowing it; on the contrary,
+small quantities have a healthful effect on the inward system,
+particularly when the body is suffering from that class of complaints
+peculiarly incident to summer. It would not be wise to swallow that or
+any other gritty substance, in large quantities, or very frequently;
+but, once or twice a week, a little would be salutary, rather than
+otherwise. A bit of charcoal, as big as a cherry, merely held in the
+mouth a few hours, without chewing, has a good effect. At first, most
+persons dislike to chew it, but use soon renders it far from
+disagreeable. Those who are troubled with an offensive breath might chew
+it very often and swallow it but seldom. It is particularly important to
+clean and rinse the mouth thoroughly before going to bed; otherwise a
+great deal of the destructive acid will form during the night.</p>
+
+<p>If these hints induce only <i>one</i> person to take better care of the
+teeth, I shall be more than rewarded for the trouble of writing. It is
+painful to see young persons losing their teeth merely for want of a few
+simple precautions; and one cannot enter stage or steam-car without
+finding the atmosphere polluted, and rendered absolutely unhealthy <span class='pagenum'>[57]<a name="Page_57" id="Page_57"></a></span>for
+the lungs to breathe, when a proper use of water and charcoal might
+render it as wholesome and pleasant as a breeze of Eden.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 5em;" />
+
+<h3 style="font-weight: normal;"><a name="HAIR" id="HAIR"></a>THE HAIR.</h3>
+
+<p>No part of the human frame offers a finer subject for the display of
+decorative taste and elegance than the hair:&mdash;the countenance, the
+contour of the head, and even the whole person, may be said to be
+greatly affected by its arrangement and dress. As the possession of fine
+hair is peculiarly prized, so is its loss proportionally felt.</p>
+
+<p>Like every other portion of the human frame, the use of <i>water</i> to the
+hair is absolutely essential to its health, as it tends to relieve the
+secretions and open the pores of the skin. The frequency of the use of
+water, however, should be guided by circumstances. It may be set down as
+a regulating principle, that the stronger and more healthy the hair may
+be, the more water may be used with propriety; by the same rule, when
+the hair is weak and thin, it should not be washed more than once
+a-week. At such times, <i>cold water</i> alone should be used, when care
+should be taken to dry it well immediately after. Washing too often,
+dries up the requisite oily fluid that forms the nourishment of the
+hair.</p>
+
+<p>Some judgment is necessary in the choice of brushes. Two are necessary:
+a penetrating and a polishing brush; the one composed of strong, <span class='pagenum'>[58]<a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"></a></span>and
+the other of fine hair. The penetrating brush (especially that used by
+ladies) should be made of elastic hairs, rather inclining to irregular
+lengths. The other should be made of firm, soft, silken hair, thickly
+studded. Unfortunately, however, we cannot but observe that penetrating
+brushes are often selected, so harsh and strong, that they fret the skin
+of the head, and injure the roots, instead of gently and gradually
+effecting the object for which they were intended.</p>
+
+<p>Combs are merely used for the purpose of giving a form to the hair, and
+assisting in its decorative arrangement; to use them too often, is
+rather prejudicial than otherwise, as they injure the roots of the hair.
+Above all kinds, that of the small-toothed comb is the most injurious in
+this respect, as it not only inflames the tender skin, but, from the
+fineness of its teeth, splits and crushes the hairs in being passed
+through them. Persons must indeed be of very uncleanly habits, whose
+heads absolutely require the aid of this comb, as the brush alone
+sufficiently possesses the power of effectually cleaning the hair from
+scurf, dandriff, and dust, if constantly used.</p>
+
+<p>To persons whose hair is in a declining state, the frequent and regular
+use of oil or bear's grease is often of much service, as it is
+calculated to assist in supplying that nourishment which is so
+necessary. No oil perhaps has ever acquired a greater celebrity than
+Rowland's Macassar; for this reason we cannot but recommend it to the
+notice of our readers.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[59]<a name="Page_59" id="Page_59"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>One of the most pernicious methods of dressing the hair, at the expense
+of its health, is by curling. This not only dries up the moisture that
+circulates through the hairs, but the heat and compression thus used
+completely prevent proper circulation. When, however, the habit is
+persisted in, its ill effects may be much obviated by constantly
+brushing the hair well, and having it frequently cut, by which means the
+necessary circulation is kept up, and the roots invigorated.</p>
+
+<hr style="width: 5em;" />
+
+<h3 style="font-weight: normal;"><a name="HANDS" id="HANDS"></a>THE HANDS.</h3>
+
+<p>"Why don't my hands look and feel as it would seem that the perfect
+Author of all things would have them?" How many a young man and woman
+have asked this question! and are troubled to know why it is that some
+persons have such bloodless hands, perfect nails, so free from
+hang-nails, as they are called, while their own hands look so much like
+duck's feet or bird's claws.</p>
+
+<p>All sorts of cosmetics, the most penetrating oils, rubbing and scouring
+the hands, paring and scraping the nails, and cutting round the roots of
+the nails, are resorted to, in hopes of making their hands appear
+natural; but all avails nothing, and many a poor hand is made to perform
+all its manipulations <i>incognito</i>. About the piano, in the social party,
+in the house, and in the street, the hand&mdash;the most exquisite, or what
+should be the <span class='pagenum'>[60]<a name="Page_60" id="Page_60"></a></span>most beautiful and useful part of the human frame&mdash;is
+<i>gloved</i>. And why? Because it is not fit to be seen.</p>
+
+<p>Now, reader, I am about to tell you of a positive cure. In the first
+place, never cut or scrape your finger-nails with a knife or scissors,
+except in paring them down to the end of the fingers. Secondly, use
+nothing but a good stiff nail-brush, fine soap, and water, and rub the
+nails and hands briskly with these every morning the <i>year round</i>. In
+the third place, I would have you know that surfeiting will invariably
+produce heavy, burning hands. An impure state of the blood will manifest
+itself in the hands sooner than in most other parts of the body. If you
+have bad hands, be assured that the quantity or quality, or both, of
+your diet is wrong.</p>
+
+<p>If you try to profit by these suggestions, you will, before one year
+expires, be no longer ashamed of your hands.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 188px;">
+<img src="images/img14.jpg" width="188" height="180" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[61]<a name="Page_61" id="Page_61"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="DRESS" id="DRESS"></a>DRESS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There are some rules, which, being based on first principles, are of
+universal application. And one of these belongs to our present subject,
+<i>viz:</i> nothing can be truly beautiful which is not appropriate. Nature
+and the fine arts teach us this. All styles of dress, therefore, which
+impede the motions of the wearer&mdash;which do not sufficiently protect the
+person&mdash;which add unnecessarily to the heat of summer, or to the cold of
+winter&mdash;which do not suit the age or occupations of the wearer, or which
+indicate an expenditure unsuited to her means, are <i>inappropriate</i>, and,
+therefore, destitute of one of the essential elements of beauty.
+Propriety, or fitness, lies at the foundation of all good taste in
+dressing; and to this test should be brought a variety of particulars,
+too numerous to be mentioned, but which may be thus illustrated: The
+dress that would be very proper on occasion of a morning visit in a
+city, would be so out of place, if worn by the same person when making
+preserves or pastry, or when scrambling through the bushes in a country
+walk, that it would cease to look well. A simple calico gown and white
+apron would be so much <span class='pagenum'>[62]<a name="Page_62" id="Page_62"></a></span>more convenient and suitable, that the wearer
+would actually look better in them.</p>
+
+<p>Some persons, also, toil early and late, and strain every nerve to
+procure an expensive garment, and think that once arrayed in it, they
+shall look as well as some richer neighbor, whose style of dress they
+wish to imitate. But they forget that, if it does not accord with their
+general style of living&mdash;if it is out of harmony with other things, it
+will so strike every body; and this want of fitness will prevent its
+looking well on them.</p>
+
+<p>Let a true sense of propriety of the fitness of things regulate all your
+habits of living and dressing, and it will produce such a beautiful
+harmony and consistency of character, as to throw a charm around you
+that all may feel, though few may comprehend. Always consider well
+whether the articles of dress which you wish to purchase are suited to
+your age&mdash;your condition&mdash;your means&mdash;to the climate&mdash;to the particular
+use to which you mean to put them; and then let the principles of good
+taste keep you from the extremes of fashion; and regulate the form so as
+to combine utility and beauty, while the known rules of harmony in
+colors save you from shocking the eye of the artist by incongruous
+mixtures.</p>
+
+<p>The character is much more shown in the style of dress that is worn
+every day, than in that which is designed for great occasions; and when
+I see a young girl come down to the family breakfast in an untidy
+wrapper, with her hair in papers, her feet slip-shod, and an old silk
+hand<span class='pagenum'>[63]<a name="Page_63" id="Page_63"></a></span>kerchief round her neck, I know that she cannot be the neat,
+industrious, and refined person whom I should like for an inmate. I feel
+equally certain, too, that her chamber is not kept in neat order, and
+that she does not set a proper value upon time. However well a lady has
+appeared at a party, I would recommend to a young gentleman&mdash;before he
+makes up his mind as to her domestic qualities&mdash;to observe her
+appearance at the breakfast-table, when she expects to see only her own
+family; and, if it be such as I have just described, to beware how he
+prosecutes the acquaintance.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img15.jpg" width="112" height="295" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[64]<a name="Page_64" id="Page_64"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="COMPRESSION_OF_THE_LUNGS" id="COMPRESSION_OF_THE_LUNGS"></a>COMPRESSION OF THE LUNGS.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Few circumstances are more injurious to beauty than the constrained
+movement, suffused complexion, and labored respiration that betray
+tight-lacing. The play of intelligence, and varied emotion, which throw
+such a charm over the brow of youth, are impeded by whatever obstructs
+the flow of blood from the heart to its many organs. In Greece, where
+the elements of beauty and grace were earliest comprehended, and most
+happily illustrated, the fine symmetry of the form was left untortured.</p>
+
+<p>But the influence of this habit on beauty is far less to be deprecated
+than its effects upon health. That pulmonary disease, affections of the
+heart, and insanity, are in its train, and that it leads some of our
+fairest and dearest to Fashion's shrine to die, is placed beyond a doubt
+by strong medical testimony.</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Mussey, whose "<i>Lectures on Intemperance</i>" have so forcibly arrested
+the attention of the public, asserts that "greater numbers annually die
+among the female sex, in consequence of tight-lacing, than are destroyed
+among the other sex by the use of spirituous liquors in the same time."
+Is it possible that thousands of our own sex, in <span class='pagenum'>[65]<a name="Page_65" id="Page_65"></a></span>our own native land,
+lay, with their own hand, the foundation of diseases that destroy
+life!&mdash;and are willing, for fashion's sake, to commit suicide!</p>
+
+<p>Dr. Todd, the late Principal of the Retreat for the Insane, in
+Connecticut, to whom science and philanthropy are indebted, adduces many
+instances of the fearful effects of obstructed circulation on the brain.
+Being requested by the instructress of a large female seminary to
+enforce on her pupils the evils of compression in dress, he said, with
+that eloquence of eye and soul, which none, who once felt their
+influence, can ever forget: "The whole course of your studies, my dear
+young ladies, conspires to impress you with reverence for antiquity.
+Especially do you turn to Greece for the purest models in the fine arts,
+and the loftiest precepts of philosophy. While sitting, as disciples, at
+the feet of her men of august minds, you may have sometimes doubted how
+to balance, or where to bestow your admiration. The acuteness of
+Aristotle&mdash;the purity of Plato&mdash;the calm, unrepented satisfaction of
+Socrates&mdash;the varied lore of Epicurus, and the lofty teachings of Zeno,
+have alternately attracted or absorbed your attention. Permit me to
+suppose, that the high-toned ethics of the Stoics, and their elevation
+of mind, which could teach its frail companion, the body, the proud
+lesson of insensibility to pain, have won your peculiar complaisance.
+Yet, while meting out to them the full measure of your applause, have
+you ever recollected that modern times&mdash;that your own country came in
+compe<span class='pagenum'>[66]<a name="Page_66" id="Page_66"></a></span>tition for a share of fame! Has it occurred to you that your own
+sex&mdash;even the most delicate and tender part of it&mdash;exceeded the ancient
+Stoics in the voluntary infliction of pain, and extinction of pity? Yes;
+some of the timid and beautiful members of this seminary may enter the
+lists with Zeno, Cleanthus, and Chrysippus, and cherish no slight hope
+of victory. I trust to prove to you that the ancient and sublime Stoics
+were very tyros in comparison with many a lady of our own times. In
+degree of suffering, extent of endurance, and in perfection of
+concealment, they must yield the palm. I do assure you, that, its most
+illustrious masters&mdash;fruitful as they were in tests to try the
+body&mdash;never invented, imagined, nor would have been able to sustain that
+torture of tight-lacing which the modern belle steadily inflicts without
+shrinking, and bears without repining sometimes to her very grave. True,
+they might sometimes have broken a bone, or plucked out an eye, and been
+silent; but they never grappled iron and whalebone into the very nerves
+and life-blood of their system. They might possibly have passed a dagger
+too deeply info the heart, and died; but they never drew a ligature of
+suffocation around it, and <i>expected to live</i>! They never tied up the
+mouths of the millions of air-vessels in the lungs, and then taxed them
+to the full measure of action and respiration. Even Pharaoh only
+demanded bricks without straw for a short time; but the fashionable lady
+asks to live without breathing for many years!</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[67]<a name="Page_67" id="Page_67"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The ancient Stoics taught that the nearest approach to apathy was the
+perfection of their doctrine. They prudently rested in utter
+indifference; they did not attempt to go beyond it; they did not claim
+absolute denial of all suffering; still less did they enjoin to persist
+and rejoice in it, even to the 'dividing asunder of soul and body.' In
+this, too, you will perceive the tight-laced lady taking a flight beyond
+the sublime philosopher. She will not admit that she feels the slightest
+inconvenience. Though she has fairly won laurels to which no Stoic dared
+aspire, yet she studiously disclaims the distinction which she faced
+death to earn&mdash;yea, denies that she has either part of lot in the
+matter; surpassing in modesty, as well as in desert, all that antiquity
+can boast or history record."</p>
+
+<p>We quote the following from Miss Sedgwick: "One word as to these small
+waists: Symmetry is essential to beauty of form. A waist
+disproportionately small is a deformity to an instructed eye. Women must
+have received their notions of small waists from ignorant dress-makers.
+If young ladies could hear the remarks made on these small waists by men
+generally, and especially men of taste, they would never again show
+themselves till they had loosened their corset-laces and enlarged their
+belts."</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img16.jpg" width="225" height="30" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[68]<a name="Page_68" id="Page_68"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="LETTER-WRITING" id="LETTER-WRITING"></a>LETTER-WRITING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>It sometimes happens that, in fashionable penmanship, the circumstance
+that it is <i>to be deciphered</i> seems to have been forgotten. "To read so
+as not to be understood, and to write so as not to be read, are among
+the minor immoralities," says the excellent Mrs. Hannah More. Elegant
+chirography, and a clear epistolary style, are accomplishments which
+every educated female should possess. Their indispensable requisites
+are, neatness, the power of being easily perused, orthographical and
+grammatical correctness. Defects in either of these particulars, are
+scarcely pardonable. The hand-writing is considered by many, one of the
+talismans of character. Whether this test may be depended on or not, the
+fact that letters travel farther than the sound of the voice, or the
+sight of the countenance can follow, renders it desirable that they
+should convey no incorrect or unfavorable impression. The lesser
+niceties of folding, sealing, and superscription, are not beneath the
+notice of a lady.</p>
+
+<p>Letter-writing is a subject of so varied and extensive a nature, that it
+can scarcely be reduced to rules or taught by precept; but some
+instructions respecting it may afford assistance in avoiding error, and
+obtaining a degree of excellence in this most important exercise.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[69]<a name="Page_69" id="Page_69"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>When you write a letter to any person, express the same sentiments and
+use the same language as you would do if you were conversing with him.
+"Write eloquently," says Mr. Gray, "that is, from your heart, in such
+expressions as that will furnish."</p>
+
+<p>Before you begin a letter, especially when it is on any occasion of
+importance, weigh well in your own mind the design and purport of it;
+and consider very attentively what sentiments are most proper for you to
+express, and your correspondent to read.</p>
+
+<p>To assist invention and promote order, it may, as some writers on
+epistolary composition recommend, occasionally be of use to make, in the
+mind, a division of a letter into three parts, the beginning, middle,
+and end; or, in other words, the exordium or introduction, the narration
+or proposition, and the conclusion. The exordium, or introduction,
+should be employed, not indeed with the formality of rhetoric, but with
+the ease of genuine politeness and benevolence, in conciliating favor
+and attention; the narration or proposition, in stating the business
+with clearness and precision; the conclusion, in confirming what has
+been premised, in making apologies where any are necessary, and in
+cordial expressions of respect, esteem, or affection.</p>
+
+<p>Scrupulously adhere to the rules of grammar. Select and apply all your
+words with a strict regard to their proper signification, and whenever
+you have any doubts respecting the correctness or <span class='pagenum'>[70]<a name="Page_70" id="Page_70"></a></span>propriety of them,
+consult a dictionary or some good living authority. Avoid, with
+particular care, all errors in orthography, in punctuation, and in the
+arrangement of words and phrases.</p>
+
+<p>Dashes, underlinings, and interlineations, are much used by unskillful
+and careless writers, merely as substitutes for proper punctuation, and
+a correct, regular mode of expression. The frequent recurrence of them
+greatly defaces a letter, and is equally inconsistent with neatness of
+appearance and regularity of composition. All occasion for
+interlineations may usually be superseded by a little previous thought
+and attention. Dashes are proper only when the sense evidently requires
+a greater pause than the common stops designate. And in a
+well-constructed sentence, to underline a word is wholly useless, except
+on some very particular occasion we wish to attract peculiar attention
+to it, or to give it an uncommon degree of importance or emphasis.</p>
+
+<p>Postscripts have a very awkward appearance, and they generally indicate
+thoughtlessness and inattention. To make use of them in order to convey
+assurances of respect to the person to whom you write, or to those who
+are intimately connected with him, is particularly improper; it seems to
+imply that the sentiments you express are so slightly impressed upon
+your mind, that you had almost forgotten them or thought them scarcely
+worth mentioning.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[71]<a name="Page_71" id="Page_71"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="MUSIC" id="MUSIC"></a>MUSIC.</h2>
+
+
+<p>This accomplishment, so popular at the present time, is a source of
+surpassing delight to many minds. From its power to soothe the feelings
+and modify the passions, it seems desirable to understand it, if it does
+not involve too great expense of time. Vocal music is an accomplishment
+within the reach of most persons. "I have a piano within myself," said a
+little girl, "and I can play on that, if I have no other."</p>
+
+<p>An excellent clergyman, possessing much knowledge of human nature,
+instructed his large family of daughters in the theory and practice of
+music. They were all observed to be exceedingly amiable and happy. A
+friend inquired if there was any secret in his mode of education. He
+replied, "When any thing disturbs their temper, I say to them <i>sing</i>;
+and, if I hear them speaking against any person, I call them to sing to
+me, and so they have sung away all causes of discontent, and every
+disposition to scandal." Such a use of this accomplishment might serve
+to fit a family for the company of angels and the clime of praise. Young
+voices around the domestic altar, breathing sacred music at the hour of
+morning and evening devotions, are a sweet and touching accompaniment.</p>
+
+<p>Instrumental music, being more expensive in its attainment, both of
+money and time, and its <span class='pagenum'>[72]<a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"></a></span>indifferent performance giving pain to those
+of refined sensibility, seems scarcely desirable to be cultivated,
+unless the impulse of native taste prompts or justifies the labor. The
+spirited pen of Miss Martineau, in her "Five First Years of Youth," has
+sketched a pleasing description of a young lady, possessing a strong
+predilection for music. "She sang much and often, not that she had any
+particular aim at being very accomplished, but because she loved it, or,
+as she said, because <a name="she_could_not_help_it_She_sang_to" id="she_could_not_help_it_She_sang_to"></a>she could not help it She sang to Nurse Rickham's
+children; she sang as she went up and down stairs; she sang when she was
+glad, and when she was sorry; when her father was at home, because he
+liked it; and when he was out, because he could not be disturbed by it.
+In the woods, at noonday, she sang like a bird, that a bird might answer
+her; and, if she awoke in the dark night, the feeling of solemn music
+came over her, with which she dared not break the silence."</p>
+
+<p>Where such a taste exists, there is no doubt that opportunities for its
+improvement should be gladly accepted. Where there is no taste, it seems
+cause of regret, when time, perhaps health, are sacrificed to the
+accomplishment. Even where a tolerable performance of instrumental music
+might probably be attained, without the prompting of decided taste,
+there may be danger of absorbing too much of time and attention from
+those employments which a female ought to understand and will be
+expected to discharge, and which are in reality of far greater
+importance.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[73]<a name="Page_73" id="Page_73"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="FLOWERS" id="FLOWERS"></a>FLOWERS.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">"Who does not love a flower<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its hues are taken from the light<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Which summer's suns fling, pure and bright,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">In scatter'd and prismatic hues,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">That smile and shine in drooping dews;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its fragrance from the sweetest air&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Its form from all that's light and fair&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Who does not love a flower?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p>In the two great floral kingdoms of nature, the botanical and the human,
+if we must yield the palm to that which is alike transcendent in the
+beauty of form and motion, and in the higher attributes of intelligence,
+innocence, and rural perfection, yet it can be no derogation to admire,
+with a rapture bordering upon enthusiasm, the splendid products of the
+garden; and especially when their beauties are combined and arranged
+with an exquisite and refined taste. What is the heart made of which can
+find no sentiment in flowers! In the dahlia, for example, we see what
+can be done by human skill and art, in educating and training a simple
+and despised plant, scarcely thought worthy of cultivation, to the
+highest rank <span class='pagenum'>[74]<a name="Page_74" id="Page_74"></a></span>of gayety and glory in the aristocracy of flowers. We may
+learn, from such success, a lesson of encouragement, in the education
+and training of flowers, of an infinitely higher value and perfection.</p>
+
+<p>The vast creation of God&mdash;the centre and source of good&mdash;is every where
+radiant with beauty. From the shell that lies buried in the depths of
+the ocean, to the twinkling star that floats in the more profound depths
+of the firmament&mdash;through all the forms of material and animated
+existence, beauty, beauty, beauty prevails! In the floral kingdom, it
+appears in an infinite variety&mdash;in an unstinted and even a richer
+profusion than in other departments of nature. While these contributions
+are thrown out so lavishly at our feet, and a taste for flowers seems
+almost an instinct of nature, and is one of the most innocent and
+refined sentiments which we can cultivate, let us indulge and gratify it
+to the utmost extent, whenever leisure, opportunity, and fortune give us
+the means. There is no danger of an excess, under those reasonable
+restrictions which all our sentiments demand.</p>
+
+<p>"But," says some cynical objector, "flowers are only to please the eye."
+And why should not the eye be pleased? What sense may be more innocently
+gratified? They are among the most simple and cheapest luxuries in which
+we ever indulge.</p>
+
+<p>The taste for flowers&mdash;every where increasing among us&mdash;is an omen of
+good. Let us adorn our <span class='pagenum'>[75]<a name="Page_75" id="Page_75"></a></span>parlors, door-ways, yards, and road-sides with
+trees, and shrubs, and flowers. What a delight do they give to the
+passer-by! What favorable impressions do they, at once, excite towards
+those who cultivate them for their own gratification, and find, after
+all, their chief pleasure in the gratification which they afford to
+others! What an affecting charm&mdash;associated as it is with some of the
+best sentiments of our nature&mdash;do they give to the sad dwelling-places
+of the departed and beloved!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img17.jpg" width="225" height="182" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[76]<a name="Page_76" id="Page_76"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="TIME" id="TIME"></a>TIME.</h2>
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i2">"I saw the leaves gliding down a brook;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">Swift the brook ran, and bright the sun burned:<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">The sere and the verdant, the same course they took&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i4">And sped gayly and fast&mdash;but they never returned.<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And I thought how the years of a man pass away&mdash;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Threescore and ten&mdash;and then where are they?"<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+
+<p>"Threescore years and ten," thought I to myself, as I walked, one rainy
+morning, as a sailor walks the quarter-deck, up and down a short alcove,
+extending before the windows of a modern house. It was one of those days
+in June, in which our summer-hopes take umbrage at what we call
+unseasonable weather, though no season was ever known to pass without
+them. Unlike the rapid and delightful showers of warmer days, suddenly
+succeeding to the sunshine, when the parched vegetables and arid earth
+seize with avidity, and imbibe the moisture ere it becomes unpleasant to
+our feelings, there had fallen a drizzling rain throughout the night;
+the saturated soil returned to the atmosphere the humidity it could no
+longer absorb; and there it hung, in chilling thickness, between rain
+and fog. The birds did not sing, and <span class='pagenum'>[77]<a name="Page_77" id="Page_77"></a></span>the flowers did not open, for the
+cold drop was on their cheek, and no sunbeam was there to expand them.
+Nature itself wore the garb of sadness, and man's too dependent spirits
+were ready to assume it&mdash;those, at least, that were not so happy as to
+find means of forgetting it. Such was the case with my unfortunate self.</p>
+
+<p>I had descended to the breakfast-room, at the usual hour, but no one
+appeared; I looked for a book, but found none but an almanac. The books
+were kept in the library&mdash;beyond all dispute their proper place, had I
+not been in a humor to think otherwise. The house was too hot, and the
+external air was too cold; and I was fain to betake myself to that last
+resort of the absolutely idle&mdash;a mechanical movement of the body up and
+down a given space. And, from the alcove where I walked, I heard the
+ticking of the timepiece; and, as I passed the window, I saw the hands
+advance; every time I had returned, they had gone a little farther.
+"Threescore years and ten," said I to myself; "and a third or fourth of
+it is nature's claim for indispensable repose&mdash;and many a day consumed
+on the bed of sickness&mdash;and many a year by the infirmities of age&mdash;and
+some part of all necessarily sacrificed to the recruiting of the health
+by exercise. And what do we with the rest?" Nothing answered me but the
+ticking of the clock, of which the hands were traversing between eight
+and nine. They had nearly met, at the appointed hour, when the party
+began to assemble within; and each one commenced, for <span class='pagenum'>[78]<a name="Page_78" id="Page_78"></a></span>aught I could
+discover, the functions of the day, for neither their appearance nor
+their remarks gave any intimation that they had been previously
+employed. One, indeed, declared the weather made her so idle she had
+scarcely found strength to dress herself; another confessed he had
+passed an additional hour in bed, because the day promised him so little
+to do up. One by one, as they dropped in, the seats at the
+breakfast-table were filled; and, as a single newspaper was all the
+apparent means of mental occupation, I anticipated some interesting
+conversation.</p>
+
+<p>I waited and I watched. One ran the point of his fork into the
+table-cloth; another balanced her spoon on the tea-cup; a third told
+backwards and forwards the rings on her fingers, as duly as a friar
+tells his beads. As such actions sometimes are the symptoms of mental
+occupation, I began to anticipate the brilliant results of so much
+thinking. I cried, hem! in hopes to rouse them to expression&mdash;and not
+quite unsuccessfully: for one remarked, it was a wretched day; another
+wished it was fine; and a third hoped it shortly would be so. Meantime,
+the index of the clock went round; it was gaining close upon ten before
+all had withdrawn from the table. My eye followed one to the
+window-place; where, with her back to the wall, and her eyes fixed
+without, she passed a full half hour in gazing at the prospect without,
+or wishing, perhaps, the mist did not prevent her seeing it. A very
+young lady was so busy in pulling the dead leaves from a geranium, <span class='pagenum'>[79]<a name="Page_79" id="Page_79"></a></span>and
+crumbling them in her fingers, I could not doubt but some important
+purpose was in the task. A third resumed the newspaper he had read for a
+whole hour before, and betook himself, at last, to the advertisements. A
+fourth repaired to the alcove, gathered some flowers, picked them to
+pieces, threw them away again, and returned. "Cease thy prating, thou
+never-resting time-piece!" said I to myself, "for no one heeds thy tale.
+What is it to us that each one of thy tickings cuts a link from our
+brief chain of life? Time is the gift of Heaven, but man has no use for
+it!"</p>
+
+<p>I had scarcely thought out the melancholy reflection, when a young lady
+entered with an elegant work-box, red without and blue within, and
+filled with manifold conveniences for the pursuance of her art. Glad was
+I most truly at the sight. By the use of the needle, the naked may be
+clothed; ingenuity may economize her means, and have more to spare for
+those who need it; invention may multiply the ways of honest
+subsistence, and direct the ignorant to the use of them. Most glad was
+I, therefore, that the signal of industry drew more than one wanderer to
+the same pursuit, though not till much time had been consumed in going
+in and out, and up and down, in search of the materials. All were found
+at last; the party worked, and I, as usual, listened. "I think this
+trimming," said one, "will repay me for my trouble, though it has cost
+me three months' work already, and it will be three months more before
+<span class='pagenum'>[80]<a name="Page_80" id="Page_80"></a></span>it is finished." "Indeed!" rejoined her friend; "I wish I were half as
+industrious; but I have been working six weeks at this handkerchief, and
+have not had time to finish it: now the fashion is passed, and I shall
+not go on." "How beautifully you are weaving that necklace! Is it not
+very tedious?" "Yes, almost endless; but I delight in the work,
+otherwise I should not do it, for the beads cost almost as much as I
+could buy it for." "I should like to begin one this morning," interposed
+a fourth, "but the milliner has sent home my bonnet so ill-trimmed, it
+will take me all the day to alter it: the bow is on the wrong side, and
+the trimming on the edge is too broad. It is very tiresome to spend all
+one's life in altering things we pay so much for." "I wish," said a
+little girl at the end of the table, "that I might work some trimmings
+for my frock, but I am obliged to do this plain work first. The poor
+lame girl in the village, who is almost starving, would do it for me for
+a shilling, but I must save my allowance this week to buy a French
+trinket I have taken a fancy to." "Poor thing! she is much to be
+pitied," said the lady of the trimming; "if I had time, I would make her
+some clothes."</p>
+
+<p>And so they worked, and so they talked, till I and the time-piece had
+counted many an hour which they took no account of, when one of them
+yawned, and said, "How tedious are these wet days; it is really
+impossible to spin out one's time without a walk." "I am surprised you
+find it so," rejoined the lady of the beads; "I can rarely take <span class='pagenum'>[81]<a name="Page_81" id="Page_81"></a></span>time
+for walking, though keeping the house makes me miserably languid."</p>
+
+<p>And so the morning passed. It was nearly two o'clock, and the company
+dispersed to their apartments. I pretend not to know what they did
+there; but each one returned between three and four in an altered dress.
+And then half an hour elapsed, in which, as I understood from their
+impatience, they were waiting for dinner; each in turn complaining of
+the waste of time occasioned by its delay, and the little use it would
+be to go about any thing when it was so near. And as soon as dinner was
+over, they began to wait for tea with exactly the same complainings. And
+the tea came, and, cheered by the vivifying draught, one did repair to
+the instrument, and began a tune; one did take up a pencil, and prepare
+to draw; and one almost opened a book. But, alas! the shades of night
+were growing fast:&mdash;ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, before each one
+resigned her occupation, with a murmur at the darkness of the weather;
+and, though some persons suggested that there were such things as lamps
+and candles, it was agreed to be a pity to have lights so early in the
+midst of summer, and so another half hour escaped.</p>
+
+<p>The lights, when they came, would have failed to relumine an expectation
+in my bosom, had not their beams disclosed the forms of various books,
+which one and another had brought in for the evening's amusement. Again
+I watched and again I listened. "I wish I had something to do, mam<span class='pagenum'>[82]<a name="Page_82" id="Page_82"></a></span>ma,"
+said the little girl. "Why do you not take a book, and read?" rejoined
+her mother. "My books are all up stairs," she replied; "and it is so
+near bedtime, it is not worth while to bring them down." "This is the
+best novel I ever read," said a lady, somewhat older, turning the leaves
+over so very fast, that those who are not used to this manner of
+reading, might suppose she found nothing in it worthy of attention. "I
+dare say it is," said another, whose eyes had been fixed for half an
+hour on the same page of Wordsworth's Poems; "but I have no time to read
+novels." "I wish I had time to read any thing," said a third, whom I had
+observed already to have been perusing attentively the title-page of
+every book on the table, publisher's name, date, and all; while a fourth
+was too intensely engaged in studying the blue cover of a magazine, to
+make any remark whatever.</p>
+
+<p>And now I was much amused to perceive with what frequency eyes were
+turned upon the dial-plate, through all the day so little regarded.
+Watches were drawn out, compared, and pronounced too slow. With some
+difficulty, one was found that had outrun its fellows, and, determined
+to be right, gave permission to the company to disperse, little more
+than twelve hours from the time of their assembling, to recover, as I
+supposed, during the other twelve, dressing and undressing included, the
+effect of their mental and bodily exertions.</p>
+
+<p>"So!" I exclaimed, as soon as I found myself <span class='pagenum'>[83]<a name="Page_83" id="Page_83"></a></span>alone, "twelve times round
+yonder dial-plate those little hands have stolen, and twelve times more
+they may now go round unheeded. They who are gone to rest, have a day
+less to live, and record has been made in heaven of that day's use. Will
+He who gave, ask no reckoning for his gifts? The time, the thoughts, the
+talents; the improvement we might have made, and made not; the good we
+might have done, and did not; the health, and strength, and intellect,
+that may not be our's to-morrow, and have not been used to-day; will not
+conscience whisper of it ere they sleep to-night? The days of man were
+shortened upon earth by reason of the wickedness the Creator saw.
+Threescore years and ten are now his portion, and often not half the
+number. They pause not; they loiter not: the hours strike on, and they
+may even go, for it seems they are all too much."</p>
+
+<p>The young, with minds as yet unstored, full of error, full of ignorance
+in all that it behooves them most to know, unfit alike as yet for earth
+or heaven&mdash;the old, whose sum of life is almost told, and but a brief
+space remaining to repair their mistakes and redeem the time they have
+lost&mdash;the simple and ungifted, who, having from nature but little, need
+the more assiduity to fulfill their measure of usefulness, and make that
+little do the most it may&mdash;the clever and highly talented, who have an
+almost appalling account to render for the much received&mdash;they all have
+time to waste. But let them remember, time is not their own; not a
+moment of it; but is the grant of Heaven; and<span class='pagenum'>[84]<a name="Page_84" id="Page_84"></a></span> Heaven gives nothing
+without a purpose and an end. Every hour that is wasted, fails of that
+purpose; and in so far as it is wasted or ill-spent, the gift of Heaven
+is misused, and the misuse is to be answered for. Methinks I would be
+allowed to whisper nightly in the ears of my young friends as they lie
+down to rest, "How many minutes have you lost to-day, that might have
+been employed in your own improvement, in our Maker's service, or for
+your fellow-creature's good?"</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img18.jpg" width="112" height="278" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[85]<a name="Page_85" id="Page_85"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="NOVEL-READING" id="NOVEL-READING"></a>NOVEL-READING.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Novel-reading produces a morbid appetite for excitement. The object of
+the novelist, generally, is to produce the highest possible degree of
+excitement, both of the mind and the passions. The object is very
+similar to that of intoxicating liquors on the body: hence, the
+confirmed novel-reader becomes a kind of <i>literary inebriate</i>, to whom
+the things of <i>entity</i> have no attractions, and whose thirst cannot be
+slaked, even with the water of life. And as intoxication enfeebles the
+body, and engenders indolent habits, so this unnatural stimulus
+enfeebles the intellectual powers, induces mental indolence, and unfits
+the mind for vigorous efforts. Nothing less stimulating than its
+accustomed aliment can rouse such a mind to action, or call forth its
+energies; and then, being under the influence of mental intoxication,
+which dethrones reason and destroys the power of self-control, they are
+always misdirected.</p>
+
+<p>It also promotes a sickly sensibility. Dr. Brigham, speaking of the too
+powerful excitement of the female mind, says: "In them the nervous
+system naturally predominates. They are endowed <span class='pagenum'>[86]<a name="Page_86" id="Page_86"></a></span>with quicker
+sensibility and far more active imagination than men. Their emotions are
+more intense, and their senses alive to more delicate impressions. They
+therefore require great attention, lest this exquisite
+sensibility&mdash;which, when properly and naturally developed, constitutes
+the greatest excellence of woman&mdash;should either become excessive by too
+strong excitement, or suppressed by misdirected education."
+Novel-reading produces just the kind of excitement calculated to develop
+this excessive and diseased sensibility; and the effect is, to fill the
+mind with imaginary fears, and produce excessive alarm and agitation at
+the prospect of danger, the sight of distress, or the presence of
+unpleasant objects; while no place is found for the exercise of genuine
+sympathy for real objects of compassion. That sensibility which weeps
+over imaginary woes of imaginary beings, calls forth but imaginary
+sympathy. It is too refined to be excited by the <i>vulgar</i> objects of
+compassion presented in real life, or too excitable to be of any avail
+in the relief of real distress. It may faint at the sight of blood, but
+it will shrink back from binding up the wound. If you wish to become
+weak-headed, nervous, and good for nothing, read novels. I have seen an
+account of a young lady, who had become so nervous and excitable, in
+consequence of reading novels, that her head would be turned by the
+least appearance of danger, real or imaginary. As she was riding in a
+carriage over a bridge, in company with her mother and sister, she
+became frightened at some <span class='pagenum'>[87]<a name="Page_87" id="Page_87"></a></span>fancied danger, caught hold of the reins, and
+backed the carriage off the bridge, down a precipice, dashing them to
+pieces.</p>
+
+<p>This excessive sensibility renders its possessor exquisitely alive to
+all those influences which are unfriendly to human happiness, while it
+diminishes the power of endurance. Extreme sensibility, especially in a
+female, is a great misfortune, rendering the ills of life insupportable.
+Great care should therefore be taken that, while genuine sensibility is
+cherished, its extremes should be avoided, and the mind fortified by
+strengthening the higher powers.</p>
+
+<p>Novel-reading strengthens the passions, weakens the virtues, and
+diminishes the power of self-control. Multitudes may date their ruin
+from the commencement of this kind of reading; and many more, who have
+been rescued from the snare, will regret, to the end of their days, its
+influence in the early formation of their character.</p>
+
+<p>It is, too, a great waste of time. Few will pretend that they read
+novels with any higher end in view than <i>mere amusement</i>; while, by the
+strong excitement they produce, they impose a heavier tax on both mind
+and body than any other species of mental effort. If any thing valuable
+is to be derived from them, it can be obtained with far less expense of
+time, and with safety to the morals, from other sources. No Christian,
+who feels the obligation of "redeeming the time, because the days are
+evil," will fail to feel the force of this remark. We have no more right
+to squander our <span class='pagenum'>[88]<a name="Page_88" id="Page_88"></a></span>time and waste our energies in frivolous pursuits, than
+we have to waste our money in extravagant expenditures. We are as much
+the stewards of God in respect to the one as the other.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/img19.jpg" width="150" height="272" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[89]<a name="Page_89" id="Page_89"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="FEMALE_ROMANCE" id="FEMALE_ROMANCE"></a>FEMALE ROMANCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Most women are inclined to be romantic. This tendency is not confined to
+the young or to the beautiful, to the intellectual or to the refined.
+Every woman, capable of strong feeling, is susceptible of romance; and,
+though its degree may depend on external circumstances, or education, or
+station, or excitement, it generally exists, and requires only a
+stimulus for its development.</p>
+
+<p>Romance indeed contributes much to the charm of the female character.
+Without some degree of it, no woman can be interesting; and, though its
+excess is a weakness, and one which receives but little indulgence,
+there is nothing truly generous and disinterested which does not imply
+its existence. It is that poetry of sentiment which imparts to character
+or incident something of the beautiful or the sublime; which elevates us
+to a higher sphere; which gives an ardor to affection, a life to
+thought, a glow to imagination; and which lends so warm and sunny a hue
+to the portraiture of life, that it ceases to appear the vulgar, and
+cold, and dull, and monotonous reality, which common sense alone would
+make it.</p>
+
+<p>But it is this opposition, between romance and <span class='pagenum'>[90]<a name="Page_90" id="Page_90"></a></span>sobriety, that excites
+so strong a prejudice against the former: it is associated, in the minds
+of many, with folly alone. A romantic, silly girl, is the object of
+their contempt; and they so recoil from this personification of
+sentiment, that their chief object seems to be to divest themselves
+altogether of its delusion. Life is to them a mere calculation;
+expediency is their maxim; propriety their rule; profit, ease, or
+comfort their aim; and they have at least this advantage, that while
+minds of higher tone and hearts of superior sensibility are often
+harassed and wounded, and even withered, in their passage through life,
+they proceed in their less adventurous career, neither chilled by the
+coldness, nor sickened by the meanness, nor disappointed by the
+selfishness of the world. They virtually admit, though they often
+theoretically deny, the baseness of human nature; and, strangers to
+disinterestedness themselves, they do not expect to meet with it in
+others. They are content with a low degree of enjoyment, and are thus
+exempted from much poignant suffering; and it is only when the
+casualties of life interfere with their individual ease, that we can
+perceive that they are not altogether insensible.</p>
+
+<p>A good deal of this phlegmatic disposition exists in many who are
+capable of higher feeling. Such persons are so afraid of sensibility,
+that they repress in themselves every thing that savors of it; and,
+though we may occasionally detect it in the mounting flush, or in the
+glistening tear, or in the half-stifled sigh, it is in vain that we
+endeavor to <span class='pagenum'>[91]<a name="Page_91" id="Page_91"></a></span>elicit any more explicit avowal. They are ashamed even of
+what they do betray; and one would imagine that the imputation of
+sensibility were almost a reflection on their character. They must not
+feel, or, at least, they must not allow that they feel; for feeling has
+led so many persons wrong, that decorum can be preserved, they think,
+only by indifference. And they end in being really as callous as they
+wish to appear, and stifle emotion so successfully, that at length it
+ceases to give them uneasiness.</p>
+
+<p>Such is often the case with many who pass through life with great
+decorum; and though women have naturally more sensibility than the other
+sex, they, too, sometimes consider its indulgence altogether wrong. Yet,
+if its excess is foolish, it is surely a mistake to attempt to suppress
+it altogether; for such attempt will either produce a dangerous
+revulsion, or, if successful, will spoil the character. One would rather
+almost that a woman were ever so romantic, than that she always thought,
+and felt, and spoke by rule; and should deem it preferable that her
+sensibility brought upon her occasional distress, than that she always
+calculated the degree of her feeling.</p>
+
+<p>Life has its romance, and to this it owes much of its charm. It is not
+that every woman is a heroine and every individual history a novel; but
+there are scenes and incidents in real life so peculiar, and so poetic,
+that we need not be indebted to fiction for the development of romance.
+Christians will trace such scenes and incidents immediately <span class='pagenum'>[92]<a name="Page_92" id="Page_92"></a></span>to
+Providence, and they do so with affectionate and confiding hearts; and
+the more affecting or remarkable these may be, the more clearly do they
+recognize the Divine interference. They regard them as remembrances of
+Heaven, to recall to them their connection with it, and remind them that
+whatever there may be to interest or excite their feelings here, there
+is infinitely more to affect and warm their hearts in the glorious
+prospects beyond.</p>
+
+<p>It is natural that women should be very susceptible to such impressions;
+that they should view life with almost a poetic eye; and that they
+should be peculiarly sensitive to its vicissitudes. And though a
+Quixotic quest after adventures is as silly as it is vain, and to invest
+every trifle with importance, or to see something marvelous in every
+incident, is equally absurd; there is no reason why the imagination
+should not grasp whatever is picturesque, and the mind dwell upon
+whatever is impressive, and the heart warm with whatever is affecting,
+in the changes and the chances of our pilgrimage. There is indeed a
+great deal of what is mean and low in all that is connected with this
+world; quite enough to sully the most glowing picture; but let us
+sometimes view life with its golden tints; let us sometimes taste its
+ambrosial dews; let us sometimes breathe its more ethereal atmosphere;
+and let us do so, not as satisfied with any thing it can afford&mdash;not as
+entranced by any of its illusions&mdash;but as those who catch, even in this
+dull mirror, a shadowy <span class='pagenum'>[93]<a name="Page_93" id="Page_93"></a></span>delineation of a brighter world, and who pant
+for what is pure, celestial, and eternal. This is surely better than
+clipping the wings of imagination, or restraining the impulses of
+feeling, or reducing all our joys and sorrows to mere matters of
+calculation or of sense.</p>
+
+<p>They are indeed to be pitied who are in the opposite extreme&mdash;whose
+happiness or misery is entirely ideal; but we have within us such a
+capacity for both, independent of all outward circumstances, and such a
+power of extracting either from every circumstance, that it is surely
+more wise to discipline such a faculty, than to disallow its influence.</p>
+
+<p>Youth is of course the season for romance. Its buoyant spirit must soar
+till weighed down by earthly care. It is in youth that the feelings are
+warm and the fancy fresh, and that there has been no blight to chill the
+one or to wither the other. And it is in youth that hope lends its
+cheering ray, and love its genial influence; that our friends smile upon
+us, our companions do not cross us, and our parents are still at hand to
+cherish us in their bosoms, and sympathize in all our young and ardent
+feelings. It is then that the world seems so fair, and our fellow-beings
+so kind, that we charge with spleen any who would prepare us for
+disappointment, and accuse those of misanthropy who would warn our
+too-confiding hearts. And though, in maturer life, we may smile at the
+romance of youth, and lament, perhaps, its aberrations, yet we shall not
+regret the <span class='pagenum'>[94]<a name="Page_94" id="Page_94"></a></span>depth of our young emotions, the disinterestedness of our
+young affections, and that enthusiasm of purpose, which, alas! we soon
+grow too wise to cherish.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 300px;">
+<img src="images/img20.jpg" width="300" height="309" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[95]<a name="Page_95" id="Page_95"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="BEHAVIOR_TO_GENTLEMEN" id="BEHAVIOR_TO_GENTLEMEN"></a>BEHAVIOR TO GENTLEMEN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>What a pity it is that the thousandth chance of a gentleman's becoming
+your lover should deprive you of the pleasure of a free, unembarrassed,
+intellectual intercourse with all the single men of your acquaintance!
+Yet, such is too commonly the case with young ladies who have read a
+great many novels and romances, and whose heads are always running on
+love and lovers.</p>
+
+<p>Where, as in this country, there is a fair chance of every woman's being
+married who wishes it, the more things are left to their natural course
+the better. Where girls are brought up to be good daughters and sisters,
+to consider the development of their own intellectual and moral natures
+as the great business of life, and to view matrimony as a good, only
+when it comes unsought, and marked by such a fitness of things, inward
+and outward, as shows it to be one of the appointments of God, they will
+fully enjoy their years of single life, free from all anxiety about
+being established, and will generally be the first sought in marriage by
+the wise and good of the other sex; whereas those who are brought up to
+think the great business of life is to get married, and who spend their
+lives in plans and man&oelig;uvres to bring <span class='pagenum'>[96]<a name="Page_96" id="Page_96"></a></span>it about, are the very ones
+who remain single, or, what is worse, make unhappy matches.</p>
+
+<p>Very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older
+ones, that there is some peculiar manner to be put on in talking to
+gentlemen, and not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and
+reserved; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in
+this intercourse, and try to imitate them as a necessary part of company
+behavior, and so become affected, and lose that first of
+charms&mdash;simplicity, naturalness. To such I would say, your companions
+are in error; it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in
+order to converse with gentlemen any more than with ladies; and the more
+pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated your
+intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly with
+all. If, however, you happen to have no facility in expressing yourself,
+and you find it very difficult to converse with persons whom you do not
+know well, you can still be an intelligent and agreeable listener, and
+you can show by your ready smile of sympathy that you would be sociable
+if you could. There is no reason in the world why any one, who is not
+unhappy, should sit in the midst of gay companions with a face so solemn
+and unmoved, that she should seem not to belong to the company; that she
+should look so glum and forbidding that strangers should feel repulsed,
+and her best friends disappointed. If you cannot look entertained and
+pleasant, you <span class='pagenum'>[97]<a name="Page_97" id="Page_97"></a></span>had better stay away, for politeness requires some
+expression of sympathy in the countenance, as much as a civil answer on
+the tongue.</p>
+
+<p>Never condescend to use any little arts or man&oelig;uvres to secure a
+pleasant beau at a party, or during an excursion; remember that a woman
+must always wait to be chosen, and "not unsought be won," even for an
+hour. When you are so fortunate as to be attended by the most agreeable
+gentleman present, do not make any effort to keep him entirely to
+yourself; that flatters him too much, and exposes you to be joked about.</p>
+
+<p>How strange a thing it is, in the constitution of English and American
+society, that the subject, of all others the most important and the most
+delicate, should be that on which every body is most given to joke and
+banter their friends! Much mischief has been done by this coarse
+interference of the world, in what ought to be the most private and
+sacred of our earthly concerns; and every refined, delicate, and
+high-minded girl should set her face against it, and, by scrupulously
+refraining from such jokes herself, give no one a right to indulge in
+them at her expense.</p>
+
+<p>As soon as young ladies go into general society, they are liable to
+receive attentions that indicate a particular regard, and, long before
+they are really old enough to form any such ties, they often receive
+matrimonial overtures; it is therefore highly necessary to know how to
+treat them. The offer of a man's heart and hand is the greatest
+compliment he can pay you, and, however undesirable <span class='pagenum'>[98]<a name="Page_98" id="Page_98"></a></span>to you those gifts
+may be, they should be courteously and kindly declined; and since a
+refusal is, to most men, not only a disappointment, but a mortification,
+it should always be prevented, if possible. Men have various ways of
+cherishing and declaring their attachment; those who indicate the bias
+of their feelings in many intelligible ways, before they make a direct
+offer, can generally be spared the pain of a refusal. If you do not mean
+to accept a gentleman who is paying you very marked attentions, you
+should avoid receiving him whenever you can; you should not allow him to
+escort you; you should show your displeasure when joked about him; and,
+if sounded by a mutual friend, let your want of reciprocal feelings be
+very apparent.</p>
+
+<p>You may, however, be taken entirely by surprise, because there are men
+who are so secret in these matters that they do not let even the object
+of their affections suspect their preference, until they suddenly
+declare themselves lovers and suitors. In such a case as that, you will
+need all your presence of mind, or the hesitation produced by surprise
+may give rise to false hopes. If you have any doubt upon the matter, you
+may fairly ask time to consider of it, on the grounds of your never
+having thought of the gentleman in the light of a lover before; but, if
+you are resolved against the suit, endeavor to make your answer so
+decided as to finish the affair at once. Inexperienced girls sometimes
+feel so much the pain they are inflicting, that they use phrases which
+feed <span class='pagenum'>[99]<a name="Page_99" id="Page_99"></a></span>a lover's hopes; but this is mistaken tenderness; your answer
+should be as decided as it is courteous.</p>
+
+<p>Whenever an offer is made in writing, you should reply to it as soon as
+possible; and, having in this case none of the embarrassment of a
+personal interview, you can make such a careful selection of words as
+will best convey your meaning. If the person is estimable, you should
+express your sense of his merit, and your gratitude for his preference,
+in strong terms; and put your refusal of his hand on the score of your
+not feeling for him that peculiar preference necessary to the union he
+seeks. This makes a refusal as little painful as possible, and soothes
+the feelings you are obliged to wound. The gentleman's letter should be
+returned in your reply, and your lips should be closed upon the subject
+for ever afterwards. It is his secret, and you have no right to tell it
+to any one; but, if your parents are your confidential friends on all
+other occasions, he will not blame you for telling them.</p>
+
+<p>Never think the less of a man because he has been refused, even if it be
+by a lady whom you do not highly value. It is nothing to his
+disadvantage. In exercising their prerogative of making the first
+advances, the wisest will occasionally make great mistakes, and the best
+will often be drawn into an affair of this sort against their better
+judgment, and both are but too happy if they escape with only the pain
+of being refused. So far from its being any reason for not accepting a
+wise and <span class='pagenum'>[100]<a name="Page_100" id="Page_100"></a></span>good man when he offers himself to you, it should only
+increase your thankfulness to the overruling providence of God, which
+reserved him for you, through whose instrumentality he is still free to
+choose.</p>
+
+<p>There is no sure remedy for disappointed affection but vital religion;
+that giving of the heart to God which enables a disciple to say, "Whom
+have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none on earth that I desire in
+comparison of Thee." The cure for a wounded heart, which piety affords,
+is so complete, that it makes it possible for the tenderest and most
+constant natures to love again. When a character is thus disciplined and
+matured, its sympathies will be called forth only by superior minds;
+and, if a kindred spirit presents itself as a partner for life, and is
+accepted, the union is likely to be such as to make the lady rejoice
+that her former predilection was overruled.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img21.jpg" width="112" height="243" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[101]<a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="MARRIAGE" id="MARRIAGE"></a>MARRIAGE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Some young persons indulge a fastidiousness of feeling in relation to
+this subject, as though it were indelicate to speak of it. Others make
+it the principal subject of their thoughts and conversation; yet they
+seem to think it must never be mentioned but in jest. Both these
+extremes should be avoided. Marriage is an ordinance of God, and
+therefore a proper subject of thought and discussion, with reference to
+personal duty. It is a matter of great importance, having a direct
+bearing upon the glory of God and the happiness of individuals. It
+should, therefore, never be approached with levity. But, as it requires
+no more attention than what is necessary in order to understand present
+duty, it would be foolish to make it a subject of constant thought, and
+silly to make it a common topic of conversation. It is a matter which
+should be weighed deliberately and seriously by every young person. It
+was ordained by the Lord at the creation, as suited to the state of man
+as a social being, and necessary to the design for which he was created.
+There is a sweetness and comfort in the bosom of one's own family which
+can be enjoyed no where else. In early life this is supplied by our
+youthful companions, who feel in <span class='pagenum'>[102]<a name="Page_102" id="Page_102"></a></span>unison with us. But as a person who
+remains single, advances in life, the friends of his youth form new
+attachments, in which he is incapable of participating. Their feelings
+undergo a change, of which he knows nothing. He is gradually left alone.
+No heart beats in unison with his own. His social feelings wither for
+want of an object. As he feels not in unison with those around him, his
+habits also become peculiar, and perhaps repulsive, so that his company
+is not desired; hence arises the whimsical attachments of such persons
+to domestic animals, or to other objects that can be enjoyed in
+solitude. As the dreary winter of age advances, the solitude of this
+condition becomes still more chilling. Nothing but that sweet
+resignation to the will of God, which religion gives, under all
+circumstances, can render such a situation tolerable. But religion does
+not annihilate the social affections; it only regulates them. It is
+evident, then, by a lawful and proper exercise of these affections, both
+our happiness and usefulness may be greatly increased.</p>
+
+<p>On the other hand, do not consider marriage as <i>absolutely essential</i>.
+Although it is an ordinance of God, yet he has not absolutely enjoined
+it upon all. You <i>may</i>, therefore, be in the way of duty while
+neglecting it. And the apostle Paul intimates that there may be, with
+those who enter this state, a greater tendency of heart toward earthly
+objects. There is also an increase of care. "The unmarried woman careth
+for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy, both in body and
+<span class='pagenum'>[103]<a name="Page_103" id="Page_103"></a></span>spirit; but she that is married, careth for the things of the world,
+how she may please her husband." But much more has been made of this
+than the apostle intended. It has been greatly perverted and abused by
+the church of Rome. It must be observed that, in the same chapter, he
+advises that "every man have his own wife and every woman her own
+husband." And, whatever may be our condition in life, if we seek it with
+earnestness and perseverance, God will give us grace sufficient for the
+day. But, he says, though it is no sin to marry, nevertheless, "such
+shall have trouble in the flesh." It is undoubtedly true that the
+enjoyments of conjugal life have their corresponding difficulties and
+trials; and if these are enhanced by an unhappy connection, the
+situation is insufferable. For this reason, I would have you avoid the
+conclusion that marriage is indispensable to happiness. Single life is
+certainly to be preferred to a connection with a person who will
+diminish instead of increase your happiness. However, the remark of the
+apostle, "such shall have trouble in the flesh," doubtless had reference
+chiefly to the peculiar troubles of the times, when Christians were
+exposed to persecutions, the loss of goods, and even of life itself, for
+Christ's sake; the trials of which would be much greater in married than
+in single life.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img22.jpg" width="225" height="48" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[104]<a name="Page_104" id="Page_104"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="MARRIAGE_HYMN" id="MARRIAGE_HYMN"></a>MARRIAGE HYMN.</h2>
+
+
+<div class="poem"><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not for the summer hour alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">When skies resplendent shine,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And youth and pleasure fill the throne,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our hearts and hands we join;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But for those stern and wintry days<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Of sorrow, pain, and fear,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">When Heaven's wise discipline doth make<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Our earthly journey drear.<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">Not for this span of life alone,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Which like a blast doth fly,<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">And, as the transient flower of grass,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">Just blossom&mdash;droop, and die;<br /></span>
+</div><div class="stanza">
+<span class="i0">But for a being without end,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">This vow of love we take;<br /></span>
+<span class="i0">Grant us, O God! one home at last,<br /></span>
+<span class="i2">For our Redeemer's sake.<br /></span>
+</div></div>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 225px;">
+<img src="images/img23.jpg" width="225" height="30" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[105]<a name="Page_105" id="Page_105"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="FEMALE_INFLUENCE" id="FEMALE_INFLUENCE"></a>FEMALE INFLUENCE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>Writers of fiction have not unfrequently selected this topic as the
+theme for poetry and romance; they have extolled woman as the being
+whose eloquence was to soften all the asperities of man, and polish the
+naturally rugged surface of his character; charming away his sternness
+by her grace; refining his coarseness by her elegance and purity; and
+offering in her smiles a reward sufficient to compensate for the hazards
+of any enterprise. But while the self-complacency and vanity of many of
+our sex have been nourished by such idle praise, how few have been
+awakened to a just sense of the deep responsibility which rests upon us,
+for the faithful improvement of this talent, and our consequent
+accountability for its neglect or perversion!</p>
+
+<p>It were not a little amusing, if it were not so melancholy, to listen to
+the reasoning employed by many ladies, in evading any charges of
+non-improvement of this trust. She who perhaps but a moment before may
+have listened with the utmost self-complacency to the flattering strains
+of the poet, who had invested her sex with every charm calculated to
+render them ministering angels to ruder and sterner man, no sooner finds
+herself <span class='pagenum'>[106]<a name="Page_106" id="Page_106"></a></span>addressed as the possessor of a talent, implying
+responsibility, and imposing self-exertion and self-denial in its
+exercise, than she instantly disclaims, with capricious diffidence, all
+pretensions to influence over others. But we cannot avert accountability
+by disclaiming its existence; neither will the disavowal of the
+possession of a talent alter the constitution of our nature, which God
+has so formed and so fitted to produce impressions in, and receive them
+from, kindred minds, that it is impossible for us to <i>exist</i> without
+exerting a continual and daily influence over others; either of a
+pernicious or salutary character.</p>
+
+<p>"Woman," to use the words of an accomplished living writer, "has been
+sent on a higher mission than man; it may be a more arduous, a more
+difficult one. It is to manifest and bring to a full development certain
+attributes which belong, it is true, to our common nature, but which,
+owing to man's peculiar relation to the external world, he could not so
+well bring to perfection. Man is sent forth to subdue the earth, to
+obtain command over the elements, to form political communities; and to
+him, therefore, belong the more hardy and austere virtues; and as they
+are made subservient to the relief of our physical wants, and as their
+results are more obvious to the senses, it is not surprising that they
+have acquired in his eyes an importance which does not in strictness
+belong to them. But humility, meekness, gentleness, love, are also
+important attributes of our nature, and it would present a sad and
+melancholy aspect with<span class='pagenum'>[107]<a name="Page_107" id="Page_107"></a></span>out them. But let us ask, will man, with his
+present characteristic propensities, thrown much more than woman, by his
+immediate duties, upon material things; obliged to be conversant with
+objects of sense, and exposed to the rude conflicts which this leads to;
+will he bring out these virtues in their <i>full</i> beauty and strength? We
+think not&mdash;even with the assistance which religion promises. These
+principles, with many others linked with them, have been placed more
+particularly in the keeping of woman; her social condition being
+evidently more favorable to their full development."</p>
+
+<p>Let us ever remember that every aggregate number, however great, is
+composed of units; and of course, were <i>each</i> American female but
+faithful to her God, to her family, and to her country, then would a
+mighty, sanctified influence go forth through the wide extent of our
+beloved land, diffusing moral health and vigor through every part, and
+strengthening it for the endurance of greater trials than have as yet
+menaced its existence. A spirit of insubordination and rebellion to
+lawful authority pervades our land; and where are these foes effectually
+to be checked, if not at their fountain head&mdash;in the nursery? Oh! if
+every American mother had but labored faithfully in that sacred
+inclosure, from the period of our revolutionary struggle, by teaching
+her children the great lesson of practical obedience to parental
+authority; then would submission to constituted authority, as well as to
+the will of God, have been far more prevalent in our land, and the
+<span class='pagenum'>[108]<a name="Page_108" id="Page_108"></a></span>whole aspect of her affairs would have been widely different.</p>
+
+<p>How much more honorable to woman is such a position, than that in which
+some modern reformers have endeavored to place her, or rather <i>force</i>
+her. Instead of seeking hopelessly, and in direct opposition to the
+delicacy of her sex, to obtain for her political privileges; instead of
+bringing her forward as the competitor of man in the public arena; we
+would mark out for her a sphere of duty that is widely different. In the
+domestic circle, "her station should be at man's side, to comfort, to
+encourage, to assist;" while, in the Christian temple, we would assign
+her an ennobling, but a feminine part,&mdash;to be the guardian of the sacred
+and spiritual fire, which is ever to be kept alive in its purity and
+brilliancy on the altar of God. She should be the vestal virgin in the
+Christian temple&mdash;the priestess, as it were, of a shrine more hallowed
+and honorable than that of Delphos.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img24.jpg" width="112" height="153" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[109]<a name="Page_109" id="Page_109"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="A_DIFFICULT_QUESTION" id="A_DIFFICULT_QUESTION"></a>A DIFFICULT QUESTION.</h2>
+
+
+<p>I remember, many years ago, to have occupied the corner of a
+window-seat, in a small but very elegant house in Montague-square,
+during a morning visit&mdash;more interesting than such visits usually are,
+because there was something to talk about. The ladies who met, had each
+a child, I believe an only girl, just of the age when mothers begin to
+ask every body, and tell every body, how their children are to be
+educated. The daughter of the house, the little Jemima, was sitting by
+my side; a delicate little creature, with something very remarkable in
+her expression. The broad projecting brow seemed too heavy for its
+underwork; and by its depression, gave a look of sadness to the
+countenance, till excited animation raised the eye, beaming vivacity and
+strength. The sallow paleness of the complexion was so entirely in
+unison with the features, and the stiff dark locks which surrounded
+them, it was difficult to say whether it was, or was not, improved by
+the color that came and went every time she was looked at or spoken of.
+I was, on this occasion, a very attentive listener: for, being not yet a
+woman, it was very essential to me to learn what sort of a one I had
+better be; and many, indeed, were <span class='pagenum'>[110]<a name="Page_110" id="Page_110"></a></span>my counter-resolutions, as the
+following debate proceeded:</p>
+
+<p>"You are going to send your daughter to school I hear?" said Mrs. A.,
+after some discourse of other matters.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. W. replied, "Really, I have not quite determined; I scarcely know
+what to do for the best. I am only anxious that she should grow up like
+other girls; for of all things in the world, I have the greatest horror
+of a woman of talent. I had never thought to part from her, and am still
+averse to sending her from home; but she is so excessively fond of
+books, I can get her to do nothing else but learn; she is as grave and
+sensible as a little woman. I think, if she were among other girls, she
+would perhaps get fond of play, and be more like a child. I wish her to
+grow up a quiet, domestic girl, and not too fond of learning. I mean her
+to be accomplished; but, at present, I cannot make her distinguish one
+tune from another."</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. A. answered, "Indeed! we differ much in this respect. I am
+determined to make Fanny a superior woman, whatever it may cost me. Her
+father is of the same mind; he has a perfect horror of silly,
+empty-headed women; all our family are literary; Fanny will have little
+fortune, but we can afford to give her every advantage in her education,
+the best portion we can leave her. I would rather see her distinguished
+for talents, than for birth or riches. We have acted upon this intention
+from her birth. She already reads <span class='pagenum'>[111]<a name="Page_111" id="Page_111"></a></span>well, but I am sorry to say she hates
+it, and never will open a book unless she is obliged; she shows no taste
+for any thing but making doll's clothes and spinning a top."</p>
+
+<p>At this moment a hearty laugh from little Fanny, who had set herself to
+play behind the curtain, drew my attention towards her. She was twice as
+big as my companion on the window-seat, though but a few months older;
+her broad, flat face, showed like the moon in its zenith, set in thin,
+silky hair: and with eyes as pretty as they could be, expressing neither
+thought nor feeling, but abundance of mirth and good-humor. The coloring
+of her cheek was beautiful; but one wished it gone sometimes, were it
+only for the pleasure of seeing it come again. The increasing
+seriousness of the conversation recalled my attention.</p>
+
+<p>"I am surprised," Mrs. W. was saying, "at your wishes on the subject. I
+am persuaded a woman of great talent is neither so happy, so useful, nor
+so much beloved, as one or more ordinary powers."</p>
+
+<p>"I should like to know why you think this," rejoined her friend; "it
+appears to me she should be much more so."</p>
+
+<p>"My view of it is this," Mrs. W. replied: "a woman's sphere of
+usefulness, of happiness, and of affection, is a domestic circle; and
+even beyond it, all her task of life is to please and to be useful."</p>
+
+<p>"In this we are quite agreed," said Mrs. A.; "but, since we are well set
+for an argument, let us <span class='pagenum'>[112]<a name="Page_112" id="Page_112"></a></span>have a little method in it. You would have your
+child useful, happy, and beloved, and so would I; but you think the
+means to this end, is to leave her mind uncultivated, narrow, and empty,
+and consequently weak."</p>
+
+<p>"This, is not my meaning," replied Mrs. W.; "there are many steps
+between stupidity and talent, ignorance and learning. I will suppose my
+child what I wish her to be, about as much taught as women in general,
+who are esteemed clever, well-mannered, and well-accomplished. I think
+it is all that can contribute to her happiness. If her mind is occupied,
+as you will say, with little things, those little things are sufficient
+to its enjoyment, and much more likely to be within her reach than the
+greater matters that fill greater minds. My less accomplished character
+will enjoy herself where your superior woman would go to sleep, or
+hopelessly wish she might. In short, she will find fellowship and
+reciprocation in every little mind she meets with, while yours is left
+to pine in the solitude of her own greatness."</p>
+
+<p>At the close of this speech, I felt quite determined that I would not be
+such a woman.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs. A. rejoined, "You have left my genius in a doleful condition,
+though I question whether you will persuade her to come down. I will
+admit, however, for I am afraid I must, that the woman of talent is less
+likely to find reciprocation, or to receive enjoyment from ordinary
+people and ordinary circumstances; but then she is like the camel that
+traverses the desert safely where others <span class='pagenum'>[113]<a name="Page_113" id="Page_113"></a></span>perish, because it carries its
+sustenance in its own bosom. I never remember to have heard a really
+sensible and cultivated woman complain of <i>ennui</i>, under any
+circumstances&mdash;no small balance on the side of enjoyment positive, is
+misery escaped. But, to leave jesting, admitting that the woman of more
+elevated mind derives less pleasure from the adventitious circumstances
+that surround her, from what money can purchase, and a tranquil mind
+enjoy, and activity gather, of the passing flowers of life&mdash;she has
+enjoyments, independent of them, in the treasures of her own intellect.
+Where she finds reciprocation, it is a delight of which the measure
+compensates the rareness; and where she finds nothing else to enjoy, she
+can herself. And when the peopled walks of life become a wilderness; and
+the assiduities of friendship rest unclaimed; and sensible
+gratifications are withered before the blight of poverty; and the foot
+is too weary, and the eye is too dim, to go after what no one remembers
+to bring; still are her resources untouched. Poverty cannot diminish her
+revenue, or friendlessness leave her unaccompanied, or privation of
+every external incitement consign her to the void of unoccupied powers.
+She will traverse the desert, for her store is with her; and if, as you
+have suggested, she be doomed to supply others what no one pays her
+back, there is One who has said, 'It is more blessed to give than to
+receive.'"</p>
+
+<p>At this point of the discussion, I made up my mind to be a very sensible
+woman.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[114]<a name="Page_114" id="Page_114"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>Mrs. W. resumed: "You will allow, of course, that selfish enjoyment is
+not the object of existence; and I think, on the score of usefulness, I
+shall carry my poor, dependent house-wife, far above yours. And for this
+very reason: The duties which Providence has assigned to woman, do not
+require extraordinary intellect. She can manage her husband's household,
+and economize his substance; and if she cannot entertain his friends
+with her talents, she can at least give them a welcome; and be his nurse
+in sickness, and his watchful companion in health, if not capable of
+sharing his more intellectual occupations. She can be the support and
+comfort of her parents in the decline of life, or of her children in
+their helplessness, according as her situation may be. And out of her
+house she may be the benefactress and example of a whole neighborhood;
+she may comfort the afflicted, and clothe and feed the poor, and visit
+the sick, and advise the ignorant; while, by the domestic industry, and
+peaceful, unaspiring habits, with which she plods, as you may please to
+call it, through the duties of her station, whether higher or lower, she
+is a perpetual example to those beneath her, to like sober assiduity in
+their own, and to her children's children to follow in the path in which
+she leads them. She may be superintending the household occupations, or
+actually performing them; giving employment by her wealth to others'
+ingenuity, or supplying the want of it by her own, according as her
+station is, but still she will make many happy.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[115]<a name="Page_115" id="Page_115"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>"I am not so prejudiced as to say that your woman of talent will refuse
+these duties; of course, if she have principle, she will not. But
+literary pursuits must at least divide her attention, if not unfit her
+altogether for the tasks the order of Providence has assigned her; she
+will distaste such duties, if she does not refuse them; while the
+distance at which her attainments place her from ordinary minds, forbid
+all attempts to imitate or follow her."</p>
+
+<p>"You have drawn a picture," answered Mrs. A., "which would convert half
+the world, if they were not of your mind already, as I believe they are.
+It is a picture so beautiful, I would not blot it with the shadow of my
+finger. I concede that talent is not necessary to usefulness, and a
+woman may fulfill every duty of her station without it. But our question
+is of comparative usefulness; and there I have something to say. It is
+an axiom that knowledge is power; and, if it is, the greater the
+knowledge, the greater should be the power of doing good. To men,
+superior intelligence gives power to dispose, control, and govern the
+fortunes of others. To women, it gives influence over their minds. The
+greater knowledge which she has acquired of the human heart, gives her
+access to it in all its subtleties; while her acknowledged superiority
+secures that deference to her counsels, which weakness ever pays to
+strength.</p>
+
+<p>"If the circumstances of her condition require it, I believe the greater
+will suffice the less, and she will fulfill equally well the duties you
+have <span class='pagenum'>[116]<a name="Page_116" id="Page_116"></a></span>enumerated; shedding as bright a light upon her household, as if
+it bounded her horizon. Nay, more, there may be minds in her household
+that need the reciprocation of an equal mind, or the support of a
+superior one; there may be spirits in her family that will receive from
+the influence of intellect, what they would not from simple and good
+intention. There may be other wants in her neighborhood than hunger and
+nakedness, and other defaulters than the ignorant and the poor. Whether
+she writes, speaks, or acts, the effect is not bounded by time, nor
+limited by space. That is worth telling of her, and is repeated from
+mouth to mouth, which, in an ordinary person, none would notice. Her
+acknowledged superiority gives her a title, as well as a capacity to
+speak, where others must be silent, and carry counsel and consolation
+where commoner characters might not intrude.</p>
+
+<p>"The mass of human misery, and human need, and human corruption, is not
+confined to the poor, the simple minded, and the child. The husband's
+and the parent's cares are not confined to their external commodities,
+nor the children's to the well-being of their physical estate. The mind
+that could illumine its own solitude, can cheer another's destitution;
+the strength that can support itself, can stay another's falling; the
+wealth may be unlocked, and supply another's poverty. Those who in
+prosperity seek amusement from superior talent, will seek it in
+difficulty or advice, and in adversity for support."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[117]<a name="Page_117" id="Page_117"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>Here I made up my mind to have a great deal of intellect.</p>
+
+<p>"If I granted your position on the subject of utility," said Mrs. W., "I
+am afraid I should prove the world very ungrateful by the remainder of
+my argument; which goes, you know, to prove the woman of distinguished
+talent less beloved than those who walk the ordinary paths of female
+duty. I must take the risk, however; for, of all women in the world,
+your women of genius are those I love the least; and I believe, just or
+unjust, it is a very common feeling. We are not disposed to love our
+superiors in any thing; but least of all, in intellect; one has always
+the feeling of playing an equal game, without being sure that no
+advantage will be taken of your simplicity. A woman who has the
+reputation of talent, is, in this respect, the most unfortunate being on
+earth. She stands in society, like a European before a horde of savages,
+vainly endeavoring to signify his good intentions. If he approaches
+them, they run away; if he recedes, they send their arrows after him.
+Every one is afraid to address her, lest they expose to her penetration
+their own deficiencies. If she talks, she is supposed to display her
+powers; if she holds her tongue, it is attributed to contempt for the
+company. I know that talent is often combined with every amiable
+quality, and renders the character really the more lovely; but not
+therefore the more beloved. It would, if known; but it seldom is known,
+because seldom approached near enough to be examined.</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[118]<a name="Page_118" id="Page_118"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>"The simple-minded fear what they do not understand; the double-minded
+envy what they cannot reach. For my good, simple housewife, every body
+loves her who knows her; and nobody, who does not know her, troubles
+themselves about her. But place a woman on an eminence, and every body
+thinks they are obliged to like or dislike her; and, being too tenacious
+to do the one without good reason, they do the other without any reason
+at all. Before we can love each other, there must be sympathy,
+assimilation, and, if not equality, at least such an approach to it as
+may enable us to understand each other. When any one is much superior to
+us, our humility shrinks from the proffers of her love, and our pride
+revolts from offering her our own. Real talent is always modest, and
+fears often to make advances towards affection, lest it should seem, in
+doing so, to presume upon itself; but, having rarely the credit of
+timidity, this caution is attributable to pride. Your superior woman,
+therefore, will not be generally known or beloved by her own sex, among
+whom she may have many admirers, but few equals.</p>
+
+<p>"I say nothing of marriage, because I am not speculating upon it for my
+child, as upon the chances of a well-played game; but it is certain that
+the greater number of men are not highly intellectual, and therefore
+could not wisely choose a highly intellectual wife, lest they place
+themselves in the condition in which a husband should not be&mdash;of mental
+inferiority."</p>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[119]<a name="Page_119" id="Page_119"></a></span></p>
+
+<p>"Mrs. W.," answered her friend, "I am aware this is your strongest post;
+but I must not give ground without a battle. A great deal I shall yield
+you. I shall give up quantity, and stand upon the value of the
+remainder. Be it granted, then, that of any twenty people assembled in
+society, every one of whom will pronounce your common-place woman to be
+very amiable, very good, and very pleasing, ten shall pronounce my
+friend too intellectual for their taste, eight shall find her not so
+clever as they expected, and, of the other two, one at least shall not
+be sure whether they like her or not. Be it granted that, of every five
+ladies assembled to gossip freely, and tell out their small cares and
+feelings to the sympathizing kindness of your friend, four shall become
+silent as wax-work on the entrance of mine. And be it granted that, of
+any ten gentlemen to whom yours would be a very proper wife, not more
+than one could wisely propose himself to mine. But have I therefore lost
+the field? Perhaps she would tell you no; the two in twenty, the one in
+five or ten, are of more value, in her estimation, than all the number
+else.</p>
+
+<p>"Things are not apt to be valued by their abundance. On the jeweler's
+stall, many a brilliant trinket will disappear, ere the high-priced gem
+be asked for; but is it, therefore, the less valued, or the less cared
+for? When beloved at all, she is loved permanently; for, in the lapse of
+time, that withers the charm of beauty, and blights the simplicity of
+youth, her ornaments grow but the <span class='pagenum'>[120]<a name="Page_120" id="Page_120"></a></span>brighter for wearing. In proportion
+to the depth of the intellect, I believe, is the depth of every thing;
+feelings, affections, pleasures, pains, or whatever else the enlarged
+capacity conceives. It is difficult perhaps for an inferior mind to
+estimate what a superior mind enjoys in the reciprocation of affection.
+Attachment, with ordinary persons, is enjoyed to-day, and regretted
+to-morrow, and the next day replaced and forgotten; but with these it
+never can be forgotten, because it can never be replaced."</p>
+
+<p>As the argument, thus terminated, converted neither party, it is
+needless to say it left me in suspense. Mrs. W. was still determined her
+child should not be a superior woman. Mrs. A. was still resolved her
+child should be, at all ventures; and I was still undetermined whether I
+would endeavor to be a learned woman or not. The little Fanny laughed
+aloud, opened her large round eyes, and shouted, "So I will, mamma!" The
+little Jemima colored to the ends of her fingers, and lowered still
+farther the lashes that veiled her eyes.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 262px;">
+<img src="images/img25.jpg" width="262" height="71" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[121]<a name="Page_121" id="Page_121"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="EASILY_DECIDED" id="EASILY_DECIDED"></a>EASILY DECIDED.</h2>
+
+
+<p>I was walking with some friends in a retired part of the country. It had
+rained for fourteen days before, and I believed it rained then; but
+there was a belief among the ladies of that country that it is better to
+walk in all weather. The lane was wide enough to pass in file, with
+chilly droppings from the boughs above, and rude re-action of the briers
+beneath. The clay upon our shoes showed a troublesome affinity to the
+clay upon the road. Umbrellas we could not hold up because of the wind.
+But it was better to walk than stay at home, so at least my companions
+assured me, for exercise and an appetite. After pursuing them, with
+hopeless assiduity, for more than a mile, without sight of egress or
+sign of termination, finding I had already enough of the one, and
+doubting how far the other might be off, I lagged behind, and began to
+think how I might amuse myself till their return.</p>
+
+<p>By one of those fortunate incidents, which they tell me never happen to
+any body but a listener, I heard the sound of voices over the hedge.
+This was delightful. In this occupation I forgot both mud and rain,
+exercise and appetite. The hedge was too thick to see through, and all
+that appeared <span class='pagenum'>[122]<a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"></a></span>above it was a low chimney, from which I concluded it
+concealed a cottage garden.</p>
+
+<p>"What in the name of wonder, James, can you be doing?" said a voice,
+significant of neither youth nor gentleness.</p>
+
+<p>"I war'nt ye know what I am about," said another, more rudely than
+unkindly.</p>
+
+<p>"I'm not sure of that," rejoined the first; "you've been hacking and
+hewing at them trees this four hours, and I do not see, for my part, as
+you're like to mend them."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, mother," said the lad, "you see we have but two trees in all the
+garden, and I've been thinking they'd match better if they were alike;
+so I've tied up to a pole the boughs of the gooseberry-bush, that used
+to spread themselves about the ground, to make it look more like this
+thorn; and now I'm going to cut down the thorn to make it look more like
+the gooseberry-bush."</p>
+
+<p>"And what's the good of that?" rejoined the mother; "has not the tree
+sheltered us many a stormy night, when the wind would have beaten the
+old casement about our ears? and many a scorching noon-tide, hasn't your
+father eaten his dinner in its shade? And now, to be sure, because you
+are the master, you think you can mend it!"</p>
+
+<p>"We shall see," said the youth, renewing his strokes. "It's no use as it
+is; I dare say you'd like to see it bear gooseberries."</p>
+
+<p>"No use!" exclaimed the mother; "don't the birds go to roost on the
+branches, and the poultry <span class='pagenum'>[123]<a name="Page_123" id="Page_123"></a></span>get shelter under it from the rain? and after
+all your cutting, I don't see as you're likely to turn a thorn-tree into
+a gooseberry-bush!"</p>
+
+<p>"I don't see why I should not," replied the sage artificer, with a tone
+of reflectiveness; "the leaf is near about the same, and there are
+thorns on both; if I make that taller and this shorter, and they grow
+the same shape, I don't suppose you know why one should bear
+gooseberries any more than the other, as wise as you are."</p>
+
+<p>"Why, to be sure, James," the old woman answered, in a moderate voice,
+"I can't say that I do; but I have lived almost through my threescore
+years and ten, and I have never heard of gooseberries growing on a
+thorn."</p>
+
+<p>"Haven't you, though?" said James; "but then I have, or something pretty
+much like it; for I saw the gardener, over yonder, cutting off the head
+of a young pear-tree, and he told me he was going to make it bear
+apples."</p>
+
+<p>"Well," said the mother, seemingly reconciled, "I know nothing of your
+new-fangled ways. I only know it was the finest thorn in the parish;
+but, to be sure, now they are more match-like and regular."</p>
+
+<p>I left a story half told. This may seem to be another, but it is in fact
+the same. James, in the Sussex-lane, and my friends in Montague-square,
+were engaged in the same task, and the result of the one would pretty
+fairly measure the successes of the other; both were contravening the
+order of nature, and pursuing their own purpose, <span class='pagenum'>[124]<a name="Page_124" id="Page_124"></a></span>without consulting the
+appointments of Providence.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny was a girl of common understanding; such indeed as suitable
+cultivation might have matured into simple good sense; but from which
+her parents' scheme of education could produce nothing but pretension
+that could not be supported, and an affectation of what could never be
+attained. Conscious of the want of all perceptible talent in her child,
+Mrs. A. from the first told the stories of talent opening late, and the
+untimely blighting of premature intellect; and, to the last, maintained
+the omnipotence of cultivation.</p>
+
+<p>On every new proof of the smallness of her mind, another science was
+added to enlarge it. Languages, dead and living, were to be to her the
+keys of knowledge; but they unlocked nothing to Fanny but their own
+grammars and vocabularies, which she learned assiduously, without so
+much as wondering what they meant. The more dull she proved, the more
+earnestly she was plied. She was sent to school to try the spur of
+emulation; and brought home again for the advantage of more exclusive
+attention. And, as still the progress lagged, all feminine employ and
+childlike recreations were prohibited, to gain more time for study. It
+cannot be said that<a name="Fannnys" id="Fannnys"></a> Fannny's health was injured by the over action of
+her mind; for, having none, it could not be easily acted upon; but, by
+perpetual dronish application, and sacrifice of all external things for
+the furtherance of this scheme of mental cultivation, her physical
+ener<span class='pagenum'>[125]<a name="Page_125" id="Page_125"></a></span>gies were suppressed, and she became heavy, awkward, and inactive.</p>
+
+<p>Fanny had no pleasure in reading, but she had a pride in having read;
+and listened, with no small satisfaction, to her mother's detail of the
+authors she was conversant with; beyond her age, and, as some untalented
+ventured to suggest, not always suited to her years of innocence. The
+arcana of their pages were safe, however, and quite guiltless of her
+mind's corruption. Fanny never thought, whatever she might read; what
+was in the book, was nothing to her; all her business was to <i>have</i> read
+it. Meantime, while the powers he had not were solicited in vain, the
+talents she had were neglected and suppressed. Her good-humored
+enjoyment of ordinary things, her real taste for domestic arrangement,
+and open simplicity of heart, were derided as vulgar and unintellectual.
+Her talent for music was thought not worth cultivating; time could not
+be spared. Some little capacity she had for drawing, as an imitative
+art, was baffled by the determination to teach it her scientifically,
+thus rendering it as impossible as every thing else. In short&mdash;for why
+need I prolong my sketch?&mdash;Fanny was prepared by nature to be the <i>beau
+ideal</i> of Mrs. W.'s amiable woman.</p>
+
+<p>Constitutionally active and benevolent, judicious culture might have
+made her sensible, and, in common life, intelligent, pleasing, useful,
+happy. Nay, I need only refer to the picture of my former paper, to say
+what Fanny, well educated, was <span class='pagenum'>[126]<a name="Page_126" id="Page_126"></a></span>calculated to become. But this was what
+her parents were determined she should not be; and they spent twenty
+years, and no small amount of cash, to make her a woman of superior mind
+and distinguished literary attainments.</p>
+
+<p>I saw the result; for I saw Fanny at twenty, the most unlovely, useless,
+and unhappy being I ever met with. The very docility of a mind, not
+strong enough to choose its own part, and resist the influence of
+circumstances, hastened forward the catastrophe. She had learned to
+think herself what she could not be, and to despise what in reality she
+was; she could not otherwise than do so, for she had been imbued with it
+from her cradle.</p>
+
+<p>She was accustomed from her infancy to intellectual society; kept up to
+listen, when she should have been in bed; she counted the spots on the
+carpet, heard nothing that was said, and prided herself on being one of
+such company. A little later, she was encouraged to talk to every body,
+and give her opinion upon every thing, in order to improve and exercise
+her mind. Her mind remained unexercised, because she talked without
+thinking; but she learned to chatter, to repeat other people's opinions,
+and fancy her own were of immense importance.</p>
+
+<p>She was unlovely, because she sought only to please by means she had
+not, and to please those who were quite beyond her reach; others she had
+been accustomed to neglect as unfit for her companionship. She was
+useless, because <span class='pagenum'>[127]<a name="Page_127" id="Page_127"></a></span>what she might have done well, she was unaccustomed to
+do at all, and what she attempted, she was incapable of. And she was
+unhappy, because all her natural tastes had been thwarted, and her
+natural feelings suppressed; and of her acquired habits and
+high-sounding pursuits she had no capacity for enjoyment. Her love of
+classic and scientific lore, her delight in libraries, and museums, and
+choice intellects, and literary circles, was a fiction; they gratified
+nothing but her vanity. Her small, narrow, weak, and dependent mind, was
+a reality, and placed her within reach of mortification and
+disappointment, from the merest and meanest trifles.</p>
+
+<p>Jemima&mdash;my little friend Jemima&mdash;I lived to see her a woman too. From
+her infancy she had never evinced the tastes and feelings of a child.
+Intense reflection, keen and impatient sensibility and an unlimited
+desire to know, marked her from the earliest years as a very
+extraordinary child; dislike to the plays and exercises of childhood
+made her unpleasing to her companions, and, to superficial observers,
+melancholy; but this was amply contradicted by the eager vivacity of her
+intellect and feeling, when called forth by things beyond the usual
+compass of her age. Every thing in Jemima gave promise of extraordinary
+talent and distinguished character. This her parents saw, and were
+determined to counteract. They had made up their minds what a woman
+should be, and were determined Jemima should be nothing else. Every
+thing calculated to <span class='pagenum'>[128]<a name="Page_128" id="Page_128"></a></span>call forth her powers was kept out of her way, and
+childish occupations forced on her in their stead. The favorite maxim
+was, to occupy her mind with common things; she was made to romp, and to
+dance and to play; to read story books, and make dolls' clothes. Her
+physical powers were thus occupied; but where was her mind the while?
+Feeding itself with fancies, for want of truths; drawing false
+conclusions, forming wrong judgments, and brooding over its own
+mistakes, for want of a judicious occupation of its activities.</p>
+
+<p>Another maxim was, to keep Jemima ignorant of her own capacity, lest she
+should set up for a genius, and be undomesticated. She was told she had
+none, and was left in ignorance of what she was capable, and for what
+she was responsible. Made to believe that her fine feelings were
+oddities, her expansive thoughts absurdities, and her love of knowledge
+unfeminine and ungraceful, she kept them to herself, and became
+reserved, timid, and artificial.</p>
+
+<p>Nobody could prevent Jemima's acquiring knowledge; she saw every thing,
+reflected upon every thing, and learned from every thing; but without
+guide, and without discretion, she gathered the honey and the gall
+together, and knew not which was which. She was sent to school that she
+might learn to play, and fetched home that she might learn to be useful.
+In the former place she was shunned as an oddity, because she preferred
+to learn; and, finding herself disliked with<span class='pagenum'>[129]<a name="Page_129" id="Page_129"></a></span>out deserving it,
+encouraged herself to independence by disliking every body. In the
+latter, she sewed her work awry, while she made a couplet to the moon,
+and unpicked it while she made another; and being told she did every
+thing ill, believed it, and became indolent and careless to do any
+thing. Consumed, meanwhile, by the restless workings of her mind, and
+tasked to exercise for which its delicate frame-work was unfit, her
+person became faded, worn, and feeble.</p>
+
+<p>To be brief, her parents succeeded in baffling nature's promise, but
+failed of the fulfillment of their own. At twenty, Jemima was a puzzle
+to every body, and a weariness to herself. Conscious of her powers, but
+not knowing how to spend them, she gave in to every imaginable caprice.
+Having made the discovery of her superiority, she despised the opinions
+of others, while her own were too ill-formed to be her guide. Proud of
+possessing talent, and yet ashamed to show it; unaccustomed to explain
+herself; certain of being misunderstood, and least of all understanding
+herself; ignorant, in the midst of knowledge, and incapable with
+unlimited capacity; tasteless for every thing she did, and ignorant how
+to do what she had a taste for, her mind was a luxuriant wilderness,
+inaccessible to others, and utterly unproductive to its possessor.
+Unpleasing and unfitted in the sphere she was in, and yet unfitted by
+habit and timidity for any other, weariness and disgust were her daily
+portion; her fine sensibilities, her deep feelings, her expan<span class='pagenum'>[130]<a name="Page_130" id="Page_130"></a></span>sive
+thoughts, remained; but only to be wounded, to irritate, to mislead her.</p>
+
+<p>Where is the moral of my tale, and what the use of telling it? I have
+told it because I see that God has his purposes in every thing that he
+has done; and man has his own, and disregards them. And every day I hear
+it disputed, with acrimony and much unkindness, what faculties and
+characters it is better to have or not to have, without any
+consideration of what God has given or withheld; and standards are set
+up, by which all must be measured, though, alas! they cannot take from
+or add one cubit to their statures. "There is one glory of the sun, and
+another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star
+differeth from another star in glory." Why do we not censure the sun for
+outshining the stars, and the pale moon for having no light but what she
+borrows?</p>
+
+<p>Instead of settling for others what they ought to be, and choosing for
+ourselves what we will be, would it not be better to examine the
+condition in which we are actually placed, and the faculties actually
+committed to us? and consider what was the purpose of Heaven in the
+former, and what the demand of Heaven in the occupation of the latter?
+If we have much, we are not at liberty to put it aside, and say we
+should be better without it; if we have little, we are not at liberty to
+be dissatisfied, and aspiring after more. And surely we are not at
+liberty to say that another has too much, or too little, of what God has
+given! We <span class='pagenum'>[131]<a name="Page_131" id="Page_131"></a></span>may have our preferences, but we must not mistake them for
+standards of right.</p>
+
+<p>Every character has beauties peculiar to itself, and dangers to which it
+is peculiarly exposed; and there are duties, pertaining to each, apart
+from the circumstances in which they may be placed. Nothing, therefore,
+can be more contrary to the manifest order and disposition of
+Providence, than to endeavor to be, or do, whatever we admire in
+another, or to force ourselves to be and do whatever we admire in
+ourselves. Which character, of the endless variety that surrounds us, is
+the most happy, the most useful, and most deserving to be beloved, it
+were impossible, I believe, to decide; and, if we could, we have gained
+little by the decision; for we could neither give it to our children,
+nor to ourselves. But of this we may be certain: that individual, of
+whatever intellectual character, is the happiest, the most useful, and
+the most beloved of God, if not of men, who has best subserved the
+purposes of Heaven in her creation and endowment; who has most carefully
+turned to good the faculties she has; most cautiously guarded against
+the evils to which her propensities incline; most justly estimated, and
+conscientiously fulfilled, the duties appropriate to her circumstance
+and character.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 112px;">
+<img src="images/img26.jpg" width="112" height="35" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[132]<a name="Page_132" id="Page_132"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="INFLUENCE_OF_CHRISTIANITY_ON_WOMAN" id="INFLUENCE_OF_CHRISTIANITY_ON_WOMAN"></a>INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON WOMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>The abject condition of the female sex, in all, out of Christian
+countries, is universally known and admitted. In all savage and pagan
+tribes, the severest burdens of physical toil are laid upon their
+shoulders; they are chiefly valued for the same reason that men value
+their most useful animals, or as objects of their sensual and selfish
+desires. Even in the learned and dignified forms of Eastern paganism,
+"the wife," says one who has spent seventeen years among them, "is the
+slave, rather than the companion of her husband. She is not allowed to
+walk with him, she must walk <i>behind</i> him; not to eat with him, she must
+eat <i>after</i> him, and eat of what he leaves. She must not sleep until he
+is asleep, nor remain asleep after he is awake. If she is sitting, and
+he comes in, she should rise up. She should, say their sacred books,
+have no other god on earth than her husband. Him she should worship
+while he lives, and, when he dies, she should be burnt with him. As the
+widow, in case she is not burnt, is not allowed to marry again, is often
+con<span class='pagenum'>[133]<a name="Page_133" id="Page_133"></a></span>sidered little better than an outcast, and not unfrequently sinks
+into gross vice, her life can scarcely be considered a blessing."</p>
+
+<p>The same author remarks, that "there is little social intercourse
+between the sexes; little or no acquaintance of the parties before
+marriage, and consequently little mutual attachment; and as there is an
+absolute vacuity and darkness in the minds of the females, who are not
+allowed even to learn to read, there is no solid foundation laid for
+domestic happiness."</p>
+
+<p>If we pass into the dominions of the crescent, we find the condition of
+females, in some respects, rather worse, it would seem, than better.
+For, in pagan India, debased and abused as woman is, she is still
+allowed some interest in religion, and some common expectations with the
+other sex, concerning the future state. But in Mohammedan countries,
+even this is nearly or quite denied her. "It is a popular tradition
+among the Mohammedans, which obtains to this day, that woman shall not
+enter Paradise;" and it requires some effort of the imagination to
+conceive how debased and wretched must be the condition of the female
+sex, to originate and sustain such a horrible and blasphemous tradition.</p>
+
+<p>Even in the refined and shining ages of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, where
+the cultivation of letters, the graces of finished style, the charms of
+poetry and eloquence, the elegances of architecture, sculpture,
+painting, and embroidery, the glory of conquest, and the pride of
+national dis<span class='pagenum'>[134]<a name="Page_134" id="Page_134"></a></span>tinction, were unsurpassed by any people before or
+since&mdash;even then and there, what was the woman but the abject slave of
+man? the object of his ambition, or his avarice, or his lust, or his
+power? the alternate victim of his pleasures, his disgust, or his
+cruelty? the creature of his caprice? and, what is worse, the menial
+slave of her own mental darkness, moral debasement, and vicious
+indulgences? If history is not false, the answer is decisive. This, and
+only this, was she!</p>
+
+<p>But how entirely has our religion reversed all this, and rendered her
+life a blessing to herself and to society. And as Christianity has done
+so much for woman, she ought in return to do much for Christianity.
+Every thing that can render life desirable, she owes to Christ. Think
+for one moment of the hole of the pit from which Christ has taken you!
+Think of what would be your present condition, had it not been for the
+Christian religion! You might have been with the debased and wretched
+victims of pagan oppression, cruelty, and lust; burning alive upon the
+funeral pile; or sacrificed by hands of violence or pollution; or cast
+out, and neglected, to pine in solitary and hopeless grief. Or, with the
+female followers of the false prophet, or, in more refined but
+unchristian nations, you might have been little else than the slave or
+the convenience of man, and left to doubt whether any inheritance awaits
+you beyond the grave.</p>
+
+<p>From these depths of debasement and wretchedness, Christianity has taken
+you, and placed you <span class='pagenum'>[135]<a name="Page_135" id="Page_135"></a></span>on high, to move, and shine, and rejoice, in the
+sphere for which the Creator designed you. Not only has it made your
+condition as good as that of man, but, in a moral view, in some respects
+superior to it. How much, then, do you owe to Christ! To turn away from
+him with indifference or neglect, what ingratitude is this! How
+preposterous, how base, how unlovely, is female impiety! There was much
+sense in a remark made by an intelligent gentleman, who, although not
+pious himself, said: "I cannot look with any complacency upon a woman
+who does not manifest gratitude and love to Jesus Christ. Above all
+things, I hate to see so unnatural an object as an irreligious woman."</p>
+
+<p>Such being the constitution and circumstances of woman, it is the
+manifest intention of God that she should be pre-eminent in moral
+excellence; and, through the influence of this, take a glorious lead in
+the renovation of the world. This she has to some extent ever done. Let
+all females of Christian lands consider well their high calling, their
+solemn responsibility, and their glorious privilege. While many of their
+sex have proved recreant to their trust, and wasted life in vanity and
+in vice, others&mdash;an illustrious constellation, the holy and the good of
+ancient time, the mothers and the sisters in Israel, "the chief women,
+not a few," of apostolic times, the bright throng, that have since
+continued to come out from the world, and tread in the steps of Jesus,
+and lead on their fellow-beings to the kingdom of purity and joy&mdash;<span class='pagenum'>[136]<a name="Page_136" id="Page_136"></a></span>have
+proved to us that, as woman was first to fall, so she is first to rise.</p>
+
+<p>Yes; though it is not hers to amass wealth; to aspire to secular office
+and power; to shine in camps and armies; to hurl the thunders of our
+navies, and gather laurels from the ocean, or to receive the vain
+incense offered to public and popular eloquence: yet, hers it is, to be
+robed with the beauty of Christ; to shine in the honors of goodness; to
+shed over the world the sweet and holy influences of peace, virtue, and
+religion; to be adorned with those essential and imperishable beauties,
+those unearthly stars and diadems, whose lustre will survive, with
+ever-increasing brightness, when all earthly glory will fade and be
+forgotten. Come, then; come to your high duty, your glorious
+privilege&mdash;come, and be blessed for ever!</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;">
+<img src="images/img27.jpg" width="150" height="150" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<p><span class='pagenum'>[137]<a name="Page_137" id="Page_137"></a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2 class="chapterhead"><a name="IMPORTANCE_OF_RELIGION_TO_WOMAN" id="IMPORTANCE_OF_RELIGION_TO_WOMAN"></a>IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO WOMAN.</h2>
+
+
+<p>There is nothing so adapted to the wants of woman as religion. She has
+many trials, and she therefore peculiarly needs support; religion is her
+asylum, not only in heavy afflictions, but in petty disquietudes. These,
+as they are more frequent, are perhaps almost as harassing; at least,
+they equally need a sedative influence, and religion is the anodyne. For
+it is religion which, by placing before her a better and more enduring
+happiness than this world can offer, reconciles her to temporary
+privations; and, by acquainting her with the love of God, leads her to
+rest securely upon his providence in present disappointment. It inspires
+her with that true content, which not only endures distress, but is
+cheerful under it.</p>
+
+<p>Resignation is not, as we are too apt to portray her, beauty bowered in
+willows, and bending over a sepulchral urn; neither is she a tragic
+queen, pathetic only in her weeds. She is an active, as well as passive
+virtue; an habitual, not an occasional sentiment. She should be as
+familiar to woman as her daily cross; for acquiescence in the detail of
+Providence is as much a duty, as submission to its result; and
+equanimity amid domes<span class='pagenum'>[138]<a name="Page_138" id="Page_138"></a></span>tic irritations equally implies religious
+principle, as fortitude under severer trials. It was the remark of one,
+who certainly was not disposed to care for trifles, that "it required as
+much grace to bear the breaking of a china cup, as any of the graver
+distresses of life."</p>
+
+<p>Minor cares are indeed the province of woman; minor annoyances her
+burden. Dullness, bad temper, mal-adroitness, are to her the cause of a
+thousand petty rubs, which too often spoil the euphony of a silver
+voice, and discompose the symmetry of fair features. But the confidence
+which reposes on divine affection, and the charity which covers human
+frailty, are the only specifics for impatience.</p>
+
+<p>And, if religion is such a blessing in the ordinary trials of life, what
+a soothing balm it is in graver sorrows! From these, woman is by no
+means exempt; on the contrary, as her susceptibility is great,
+afflictions press on her with peculiar heaviness. There is sometimes a
+stillness in her grief which argues only its intensity, and it is this
+rankling wound which piety alone can heal. Nothing, perhaps, is more
+affecting than woman's chastened sorrow. Her ties may be severed, her
+fond hopes withered, her young affections blighted, yet peace may be in
+her breast, and heaven in her eye. If the business and turmoil of life
+brush away the tears of manly sorrows, and scarcely leave time even for
+the indulgence of sympathy, woman gathers strength in her solitary
+chamber, to encounter and subdue her grief. There she learns <span class='pagenum'>[139]<a name="Page_139" id="Page_139"></a></span>to look
+her sorrow in the face; there she becomes familiar with its features;
+there she communes with it, as with a celestial messenger; till at
+length she can almost welcome its presence, and hail it as the harbinger
+of a brighter world.</p>
+
+<p>Religion is her only elevating principle. It identifies itself with the
+movements of her heart and with the actions of her life, spiritualizing
+the one and ennobling the other. Duties, however subordinate, are to the
+religious woman never degrading; their principle is their apology. She
+does not live amidst the clouds, or abandon herself to mystic
+excitement; she is raised above the sordidness, but not above the
+concerns, of earth; above its disquietudes, but not above its cares.</p>
+
+<p>Religion is just what woman needs. Without it, she is ever restless and
+unhappy; ever wishing to be relieved from duty or from time. She is
+either ambitious of display, or greedy of pleasure, or sinks into a
+listless apathy, useless to others and unworthy of herself. But when the
+light from heaven shines upon her path, it invests every object with a
+reflected radiance. Duties, occupations, nay, even trials, are seen
+through a bright medium; and the sunshine which gilds her course on
+earth, is but the dawning of a far clearer day.</p>
+
+<div class="figcenter" style="width: 75px;">
+<img src="images/img28.jpg" width="75" height="109" alt="Chapter end illustration" title="Chapter end illustration" />
+</div>
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+
+
+<p><a name="T_Note" id="T_Note"></a>Transcriber's Note:</p>
+
+<p>The following words were inconsistently hyphenated:</p>
+
+<p>house-wife / housewife<br />
+time-piece / timepiece</p>
+
+<p>Other errors:</p>
+
+<table style="margin-left: 0;">
+<tr>
+<td>Original<br />
+Page</td><td></td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#Familiarity">11</a></td>   <td>Missing period after 'other'</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>     <td>....each other "<i>Familiarity</i>," says....</td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#she_could_not_help_it_She_sang_to">72</a></td>   <td>Missing period after 'it'</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>     <td>....could not help it She sang to Nurse....</td></tr>
+<tr><td><a href="#Fannnys">124</a></td>  <td>Extra 'n' in the name Fanny</td></tr>
+<tr><td></td>     <td>....cannot be said that Fannny's health....</td></tr>
+</table>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***</p>
+<p>******* This file should be named 16802-h.txt or 16802-h.zip *******</p>
+<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br />
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/8/0/16802">https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/8/0/16802</a></p>
+<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.</p>
+
+<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.</p>
+
+
+
+<pre>
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+<a href="https://gutenberg.org/license">https://gutenberg.org/license)</a>.
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's
+eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII,
+compressed (zipped), HTML and others.
+
+Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over
+the old filename and etext number.  The replaced older file is renamed.
+VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving
+new filenames and etext numbers.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">https://www.gutenberg.org</a>
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
+EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000,
+are filed in directories based on their release date.  If you want to
+download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular
+search system you may utilize the following addresses and just
+download by the etext year.
+
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a>
+
+    (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99,
+     98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90)
+
+EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are
+filed in a different way.  The year of a release date is no longer part
+of the directory path.  The path is based on the etext number (which is
+identical to the filename).  The path to the file is made up of single
+digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename.  For
+example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at:
+
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234
+
+or filename 24689 would be found at:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689
+
+An alternative method of locating eBooks:
+<a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a>
+
+*** END: FULL LICENSE ***
+</pre>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img01-full.jpg b/16802-h/images/img01-full.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c7bdbcf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img01-full.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img01.jpg b/16802-h/images/img01.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c8642f3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img01.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img02.jpg b/16802-h/images/img02.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9b3de63
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img02.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img03.jpg b/16802-h/images/img03.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..3eeba83
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img03.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img04.jpg b/16802-h/images/img04.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6d5e845
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img04.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img05.jpg b/16802-h/images/img05.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5cce9e7
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img05.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img06.jpg b/16802-h/images/img06.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..298f950
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img06.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img07.jpg b/16802-h/images/img07.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..db78020
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img07.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img08.jpg b/16802-h/images/img08.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..496da8a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img08.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img09.jpg b/16802-h/images/img09.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..02995dd
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img09.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img10.jpg b/16802-h/images/img10.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8af88c5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img10.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img11.jpg b/16802-h/images/img11.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..9f4c2ed
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img11.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img12.jpg b/16802-h/images/img12.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..d203e42
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img12.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img13.jpg b/16802-h/images/img13.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..81d0a11
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img13.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img14.jpg b/16802-h/images/img14.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..5bc4cd9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img14.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img15.jpg b/16802-h/images/img15.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..be126df
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img15.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img16.jpg b/16802-h/images/img16.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..27cf63b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img16.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img17.jpg b/16802-h/images/img17.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..4aae83f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img17.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img18.jpg b/16802-h/images/img18.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..201ee17
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img18.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img19.jpg b/16802-h/images/img19.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..94f7878
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img19.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img20.jpg b/16802-h/images/img20.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..caabcd8
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img20.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img21.jpg b/16802-h/images/img21.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..373a7a9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img21.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img22.jpg b/16802-h/images/img22.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e56e851
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img22.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img23.jpg b/16802-h/images/img23.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..e147a5f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img23.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img24.jpg b/16802-h/images/img24.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04627bf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img24.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img25.jpg b/16802-h/images/img25.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8c480c3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img25.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img26.jpg b/16802-h/images/img26.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bed6507
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img26.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img27.jpg b/16802-h/images/img27.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1cfc82e
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img27.jpg
diff --git a/16802-h/images/img28.jpg b/16802-h/images/img28.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..1e18a32
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802-h/images/img28.jpg
diff --git a/16802.txt b/16802.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..8846c50
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,3493 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Ladies' Vase, by An American Lady
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Ladies' Vase
+       Polite Manual for Young Ladies
+
+
+Author: An American Lady
+
+
+
+Release Date: October 4, 2005  [eBook #16802]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Barbara Tozier, Julia Miller, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net/)
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Note: Printer's errors from the original book, such as
+                    inconsistent hyphenation and missing punctuation,
+                    have been retained in this version of the text.
+                    A list of these errors is located at the end of
+                    the text.
+
+
+
+
+
+THE LADIES' VASE;
+
+Or, Polite Manual for Young Ladies.
+
+Original and Selected
+
+by
+
+AN AMERICAN LADY
+
+Eighth Edition.
+
+Hartford:
+H. S. Parsons and Co.
+
+Stereotyped by
+Richard H. Hobbs.
+Hartford, Conn.
+
+1849
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+So many volumes have already appeared before the public, similar in
+character to this little work, that it is with feelings of diffidence we
+bring our humble offering, especially when we consider the rich merit
+possessed by many of its predecessors. But our apology must be found in
+the fact that these publications are, from their size, and consequent
+expense, inaccessible to many of the class whose improvement they are so
+well adapted to promote. Considering the formation of female character
+and manners a matter of inestimable importance, especially at the
+present age, swayed as it is by moral rather than by physical force, we
+have carefully availed ourselves of the best advice of some of our most
+judicious writers on female education; and, by presenting our work in a
+cheaper form than any of this class which is now before the public, hope
+to render it attainable to all those for whom it is especially designed.
+
+_April 16, 1847._
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+
+POLITENESS,                                 7
+TRUE AND FALSE POLITENESS,                  9
+IMPORTANCE OF GOOD MANNERS,                13
+SELF-POSSESSION,                           16
+GOOD COMPANY,                              19
+FRIENDSHIP,                                21
+KINDRED HEARTS,                            28
+CONVERSATION,                              30
+EXAGGERATION,                              34
+EGOTISM,                                   37
+GENTLENESS,                                44
+SISTERLY VIRTUES,                          46
+HOME,                                      49
+FIRESIDE INFLUENCE,                        51
+                     { THE TEETH,          54
+PERSONAL APPEARANCE, { THE HAIR,           57
+                     { THE HANDS,          59
+DRESS,                                     61
+COMPRESSION OF THE LUNGS,                  64
+LETTER-WRITING,                            68
+MUSIC,                                     71
+FLOWERS,                                   73
+TIME,                                      76
+NOVEL-READING,                             85
+FEMALE ROMANCE,                            89
+BEHAVIOR TO GENTLEMEN,                     95
+MARRIAGE,                                 101
+MARRIAGE HYMN,                            104
+FEMALE INFLUENCE,                         105
+A DIFFICULT QUESTION,                     109
+EASILY DECIDED,                           121
+INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON WOMAN,       132
+IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO WOMAN,          137
+
+
+
+
+LADIES' VASE.
+
+
+POLITENESS.
+
+
+Politeness, like every thing else in one's character and conduct, should
+be based on Christian principle. "Honor all men," says the apostle. This
+is the spring of good manners; it strikes at the very root of
+selfishness: it is the principle by which we render to all ranks and
+ages their due. A respect for your fellow-beings--a reverence for them
+as God's creatures and our brethren--will inspire that delicate regard
+for their rights and feelings, of which good manners is the sign.
+
+If you have truth--not the truth of policy, but religious truth--your
+manners will be sincere. They will have earnestness, simplicity, and
+frankness--the best qualities of manners. They will be free from
+assumption, pretense, affectation, flattery, and obsequiousness, which
+are all incompatible with sincerity. If you have sincerity, you will
+choose to appear no other, nor better, than you are--to dwell in a true
+light.
+
+We have often insisted, that the Bible contains the only rules necessary
+in the study of politeness. Or, in other words, that those who are the
+real disciples of Christ, cannot fail to be truly polite. Thus, let the
+young woman who would possess genuine politeness, take her lessons, not
+in the school of a hollow, heartless world, but in the school of Jesus
+Christ. I know this counsel may be despised by the gay and fashionable;
+but it will be much easier to despise it, than to prove it to be
+incorrect.
+
+"Always think of the good of the whole, rather than of your own
+individual convenience," says Mrs. Farrar, in her _Young Ladies'
+Friend_. A most excellent rule; and one to which we solicit your earnest
+attention. She who is thoroughly imbued with the Gospel spirit, will not
+fail to do so. It was what our Savior did continually; and I have no
+doubt that his was the purest specimen of good manners, or genuine
+politeness, the world has ever witnessed; the politeness of Abraham
+himself not excepted.
+
+
+
+
+TRUE AND FALSE POLITENESS.
+
+
+Every thing really valuable is sure to be counterfeited. This applies
+not only to money, medicine, religion, and virtue, but even to
+politeness. We see in society the truly polite and the falsely polite;
+and, although all cannot explain, all can feel the difference. While we
+respect the one, we despise the other. Men hate to be cheated. An
+attempt to deceive us, is an insult to our understandings and an affront
+to our morals. The pretender to politeness is a cheat. He tries to palm
+off the base for the genuine; and, although he may deceive the vulgar,
+he cannot overreach the cultivated. True politeness springs from right
+feelings; it is a good heart, manifesting itself in an agreeable life;
+it is a just regard for the rights and happiness of others in small
+things; it is the expression of true and generous sentiments in a
+graceful form of words; it regards neatness and propriety in dress, as
+something due to society, and avoids tawdriness in apparel, as offensive
+to good taste; it avoids selfishness in conduct and roughness in
+manners: hence, a polite person is called a _gentle_ man. True
+politeness is the smoothness of a refined mind and the tact of a kind
+heart.
+
+Politeness is a word derived from the Greek word _polis_, which means a
+city--the inhabitants of which are supposed, by constant intercourse
+with each other, to be more refined in manners than the inhabitants of
+the country. From _polis_, comes our English word _polish_, which
+signifies an effect produced by rubbing down roughnesses until the
+surface is smoothed and brightened: hence, we speak of polished minds
+and polished manners. Persons in good society rub against each other
+until their sharp points are worn down, and their intercourse becomes
+easy. The word _urbanity_ comes from the Latin word _urbs_; that, also,
+means a city, and it signifies politeness, gentleness, polish, for a
+similar reason.
+
+In mingling with our fellow-men, there is a constant necessity for
+little offices of mutual good will. An observing and generous-minded
+person notices what gives him offense, and what pleases him in the
+conduct of others; and he seeks at once to correct or cultivate similar
+things in himself. He acts upon the wise, Christian principle of doing
+to others as he would have them do to him. Hence, in dress and person,
+he is clean and neat; in speech, he is courteous; in behavior,
+conciliating; in the pursuit of his own interests, unobtrusive. No truly
+polite person appears to notice bodily defects or unavoidable
+imperfections in others; and, above all, he never sneers at religion,
+either in its doctrines, ordinances, or professors.
+
+False politeness is but a clumsy imitation of all this. It is selfish
+in its object, and superficial in its character. It is a slave to
+certain forms of speech, certain methods of action, and certain fashions
+of dress. It is insincere; praising where it sees no merit, and excusing
+sin where it beholds no repentance. It is the offspring of selfishness;
+perverting the golden rule by flattering stupidity and winking at vice,
+with the hope of being treated in the same way by the community. It is a
+bed of flowers, growing over a sepulchre, and drawing its life from the
+loathsome putrefaction within.
+
+Yet, insincere and wrong as are the motives to false politeness, it is,
+after all, better than vulgarity. It is the cotton batting, that keeps
+the glass vases of society from dashing against each other.
+"_Familiarity_," says the proverb, "_breeds contempt_;" and this is
+found true, whenever coarse minds with rude manners come in contact.
+Careless of the little decencies of society; selfish in selecting the
+best seat in the room, or the best dish at the table; unwashed in
+person, and slovenly in dress: what is this but an open proclamation of
+utter disregard for others? How soon contempt must follow!
+
+Let the young polish their manners, not by attending to mere artificial
+rules, but by the cultivation of right feelings. Let them mingle with
+refined society as often as they can; and, by refined society, I do not
+mean those whom you find in the ball-room--in the theater--in the
+crowded party, or those--however wealthy, or richly dressed--you feel to
+be only artificially polite; but I mean those who make you feel at ease
+in their society, while, at the same time, they elevate your aims and
+polish your manners. What a good style is to noble sentiments,
+politeness is to virtue.
+
+
+
+
+IMPORTANCE OF GOOD MANNERS.
+
+
+There is something in the very constitution of human nature which
+inclines us to form a judgment of character from manners. It is always
+taken for granted, unless there is decisive evidence to the contrary,
+that the manners are the genuine expression of the feelings. And even
+where such evidence exists--that is, where we have every reason to
+believe that the external appearance does injustice to the moral
+dispositions; or, on the other hand, where the heart is too favorably
+represented by the manners--there is still a delusion practiced upon the
+mind, by what passes under the eye, which it is not easy to resist. You
+may take two individuals of precisely the same degree of intellectual
+and moral worth, and let the manners of the one be bland and attractive,
+and those of the other distant or awkward, and you will find that the
+former will pass through life with far more ease and comfort than the
+latter; for, though good manners will never effectually conceal a bad
+heart, and are, in no case, any atonement for it, yet, taken in
+connection with amiable and virtuous dispositions, they naturally and
+necessarily gain upon the respect and goodwill of mankind.
+
+You will instantly perceive--if the preceding remarks be correct--that
+it is not only your interest to cultivate good manners, as you hereby
+recommend yourself to the favorable regards of others, but also your
+duty, as it increases, in no small degree, your means of usefulness. It
+will give you access to many persons, and give you an influence over
+those whom you could otherwise never approach; much less, whose feelings
+and purposes you could never hope, in any measure, to control.
+
+"If I should point you to the finest model of female manners which it
+has ever been my privilege to observe," says a late writer, in a letter
+to his daughter, "and one which will compare with the most perfect
+models of this or any other age, I should repeat a venerated name--that
+of Mrs. Hannah More. It was my privilege, a few years ago, to make a
+visit to the residence of this distinguished female; a visit which I
+have ever since regarded as among the happiest incidents of my life. At
+that time, she numbered more than fourscore years, but the vigor of her
+intellect was scarcely impaired; and, from what she was, I could easily
+conceive what she had been when her sun was at its meridian. In her
+person, she was rather small, but was a specimen of admirable symmetry.
+In her manners, she united the dignity and refinement of the court, with
+the most exquisite urbanity and gentleness which the female character,
+in its loveliest forms, ever exhibited. She impressed me continually
+with a sense of the high intellectual and moral qualities by which she
+was distinguished, but still left me as unconstrained as if I had been
+conversing with a beloved child. There was an air of graceful and
+unaffected ease; an instinctive regard to the most delicate proprieties
+of social intercourse; a readiness to communicate, and yet a desire to
+listen; the dignity of conscious merit, united with the humility of the
+devoted Christian: in short, there was such an assemblage of
+intellectual and moral excellences beaming forth in every expression,
+and look, and attitude, that I could scarcely conceive of a more perfect
+exhibition of human character. I rejoice that it is the privilege of all
+to know Mrs. More through her works; and I can form no better wish for
+you than that you may imbibe her spirit, and walk in her footsteps."
+
+
+
+
+SELF-POSSESSION.
+
+
+Self-possession is the first requisite to good manners; and, where it is
+wanting, there is generally a reason for it, in some wrong feeling or
+appreciation of things. Vanity, a love of display, an overweening desire
+to be admired, are great obstacles to self-possession; whereas, a
+well-disciplined and well-balanced character will generally lead to
+composure and self-command. In a very elegant assemblage, in a large
+drawing-room in a Southern city, I saw a young lady walk quietly and
+easily across the apartment to speak to a friend, who said to her: "I
+wanted very much to get to you, but I had not the courage to cross the
+room. How could you do it?--all alone, too, and with so many persons
+looking at you!" "I did not think of any body's looking at me," was the
+reply; and in that lay the secret of her self-possession. Very modest
+people believe themselves to be of too little consequence to be
+observed; but conceited ones, think every body must be looking at them.
+Inexperienced girls, who are not wanting in modesty, are apt to dread
+going into a crowded room, from an idea that every eye will be turned
+upon them; but after a while they find that nobody cares to look at
+them, and that the greater the crowd, the less they are observed.
+
+Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than
+on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the designing, will
+be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return.
+A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortification, and the
+selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see and to hear,
+and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a disposition to admire
+all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you
+can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of
+yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much
+attended to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident;
+if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others.
+
+The popular belle, who is the envy of her own sex and the admiration of
+the other, has her secret griefs and trials, and thinks she pays very
+dearly for her popularity; while the girl who is least attended to in
+crowded assemblies, is apt to think her's the only hard lot, and that
+there is unmixed happiness in being a reigning belle. She, alone, whose
+steady aim is to grow better and wiser every day of her life, can look
+with an equal eye on both extremes. If your views are elevated, and your
+feelings are ennobled and purified by communion with gifted spirits, and
+with the Father of spirits, you will look calmly on the gayest scenes
+of life; you will attach very little importance to the transient
+popularity of a ball-room; your endeavor will be to bring home from
+every visit some new idea, some valuable piece of information, or some
+useful experience of life.
+
+
+
+
+GOOD COMPANY.
+
+
+"Good company," says Duclos, "resembles a dispersed republic: the
+members of it are found in all classes. Independent of rank and station,
+it exists only among those who think and feel; among those who possess
+correct ideas and honorable sentiments." The higher classes, constantly
+occupied with the absorbing interests of wealth and ambition, formerly
+introduced into their magnificent saloons a grave and almost diplomatic
+stiffness of manners, of which the solemnity banished nature and
+freedom. The amusements of the lower classes, which rather resembled a
+toil than a recreation, present to the spectator a procedure
+irreconcilable to good taste.
+
+There are, moreover, too many points of resemblance between the manners
+and education of the higher and lower classes, to admit of our finding
+the elements of good society in either of them. The lower orders are
+ignorant, from want of means of instruction; the higher, from indolence
+and perpetually increasing incapacity. It is besides not a little
+curious that, even in the bygone days of ceremonious manners, the higher
+classes, by whom they were practiced, were uniformly taught by those
+illiterate persons of the lower classes who almost alone practice the
+art of dancing-masters.
+
+It is therefore to the middle class, almost exclusively, that we must
+look for good society; to that class which has not its ideas contracted
+by laborious occupations, nor its mental powers annihilated by luxury.
+In this class, it is truly observed, society is often full of charm:
+every one seems, according to the precept of _La Bruyere_, "anxious,
+both by words and manners, to make others pleased with him and with
+themselves." There are slight differences of character, opinion, and
+interest; but there is no prevailing style, no singular or affected
+customs. An unperceived interchange of ideas and kind offices produces a
+delightful harmony of thoughts and sentiments; and the wish to please
+inspires those affectionate manners, those obliging expressions, and
+those unrestrained attentions, which alone render social unions pleasant
+and desirable.
+
+
+
+
+FRIENDSHIP.
+
+
+This subject was forcibly presented to my mind by a conversation I
+recently heard in a party of young ladies, and which I take as a pattern
+and semblance of twenty other conversations I have heard in twenty
+similar parties. Friendship was (as it very often is) the subject of the
+discussion; and, though the words have escaped my memory, I can well
+recall the substance of the remarks. One lady boldly asserted that there
+was no such thing as friendship in the world, where all was insincerity
+and selfishness. I looked, but saw not in her youthful eye and
+unfurrowed cheeks any traces of the sorrow and ill-usage that I thought
+should alone have wrung from gentle lips so harsh a sentence, and I
+wondered where in twenty brief years she could have learned so hard a
+lesson. Have known it, she could not! therefore I concluded she had
+taken it upon trust from the poets, who are fain to tell all the ill
+they can of human nature, because it makes better poetry than good.
+
+The remark was taken up, as might have been expected, by a young
+champion, who thought, or said without thinking, that friendship was--I
+really cannot undertake to say what, but all the things that young
+ladies usually put into their themes at school: something interminable,
+illimitable, and immutable. From this the discussion grew; and how it
+was, and what it was, went on to be discussed. I cannot pursue the
+thread of the discourse; but the amount of it was this:--One thought
+friendship was the summer portion only of the blessed; a flower for the
+brow of the prosperous, that the child of misfortune must never gather.
+Another thought that all interest being destructive to its very essence,
+it could not be trusted, unless there was an utter destitution of every
+thing that might recommend us to favor, or requite affection. This lady
+must have been brought to the depth of wretchedness ere she ever could
+be sure she had a friend. Some, I found, thought it was made up of a
+great deal of sensibility, vulgarly called jealousy; that was, to take
+umbrage at every seeming slight, to the indescribable torment of either
+party. Some betrayed, if they did not exactly say it, that they thought
+friendship such an absolute unity, that it would be a less crime to
+worship two gods than to love two friends! Therefore, to bring it to its
+perfection, it was necessary that all beside should be despised and
+disregarded.
+
+Others, very young, and of course soon to grow wiser, thought it
+consisted in the exact disclosure of your own concerns and those of
+every body else with which you might chance to become acquainted;
+others, that it required such exact conformity in opinion, thought, and
+feeling, as should make it impossible to differ; and others, that it
+implied such generous interference, even with the feelings as well as
+affairs of its object, that it should spend itself in disinterested
+reproaches and unasked advice. But, however differing else, all were
+sure that friendship but usurped the name, unless it were purely
+disinterested, endlessly durable, and beyond the reach of time and
+circumstances to change it; and all were going forth in the full
+certainty of finding friends, each one after the pattern of her own
+imagination, the first speaker only excepted, who was fully determined
+never to find any, or never to trust them, if she did.
+
+I marked, with pained attention, the warm glow of expectation so soon to
+be blighted; and, reflected deeply on the many heart-aches with which
+they must unlearn their errors. I saw that each one was likely to pass
+over and reject the richest blessing of earth, even in the very pursuing
+of it, from having merely sketched, in imagination, an unresembling
+portrait of the object of pursuit. "When friendship meets them," I said,
+"they will not know her. Can no one draw for them a better likeness?"
+
+It is the language of books, and the language of society, that friends
+are inconstant, and friendship but little to be depended on; and the
+belief, where it is really received, goes far to make a truth of that
+which else were false, by creating what it suspects. Few of us but have
+lived already long enough to know the bitterness of being disappointed
+in our affections, and deceived in our calculations by those with whom,
+in the various relationships of life, we are brought in contact. Perhaps
+the aggregate of pain from this cause is greater than from any other
+cause whatever. And yet, it is much to be doubted whether nearly the
+whole of this suffering does not arise from our own unreasonable and
+mistaken expectations. There are none so unfortunate but they meet with
+some kindness in the world; and none, I believe, so fortunate but that
+they meet with much less than they might do, were it not their own
+fault.
+
+In the first place, we are mistaken in our expectations that friendship
+should be disinterested. It neither is, nor can be. It may be so in
+action, but never in the sentiment; there is always an equivalent to be
+returned. And if we examine the movements of our own hearts, we must be
+sure this is the case; and yet, we are so unreasonable as to expect our
+friends should be purely disinterested; and, after having secured their
+affections, we neglect to pay the price, and expect they should be
+continued to us for nothing. We grow careless of pleasing them;
+inconsiderate of their feelings, and heedless of the government of our
+own temper towards them; and then we complain of inconstancy, if they
+like us not so well as when dressed out in our best for the reception of
+their favor. Yet it is, in fact, we that are changed, not they.
+
+Another fruitful source of disappointment in our attachments is, that
+while we are much more quick in detecting the faults of others than our
+own, we absurdly require that every one should be faultless but
+ourselves. We do not say that we expect this in our friends; but we do
+expect it, and our conduct proves that we expect it. We begin also with
+believing it. The obscurities of distance; the vail that the proprieties
+of society casts over nature's deformities; the dazzling glitter of
+exterior qualities baffle, for a time, our most penetrating glances, and
+the imperfect vision seems all that we should have it. Our inexperienced
+hearts, and some indeed that should be better taught, fondly believe it
+to be all it seems, and begin their attachment in full hope to find it
+so. What wonder then that the bitterest disappointment should ensue,
+when, on more close acquaintance, we find them full of imperfections,
+perhaps of most glaring faults; and we begin to express disgust,
+sometimes even resentment, that they are not what we took them for.
+
+But was this their fault, or ours? Did they not present themselves to us
+in the garb of mortal flesh?--and do we not know that mortals are
+imperfect?--that, however the outside be fair, the interior is corrupt,
+and sometimes vile? He who knows all, alone knows how corrupt it is! the
+heart itself, enlightened by His grace, is more deeply in the secret
+than any without can be; but if the thing we love be mortal, something
+of it we must perceive; and more and more of it we must perceive as we
+look closer. If this is to disappoint and revolt us, and draw harsh
+reproaches and bitter recriminations from our lips, there is but One on
+whom we can fix our hearts with safety; and He is one, alas! we show so
+little disposition to love, as proves that, with all our complainings
+and bewailings of each others' faultiness, our friends are as good as
+will, at present, suit us.
+
+But are we, therefore, to say there is no such thing as friendship, or
+that it is not worth seeking? morosely repel it, or suspiciously
+distrust it? If we do, we shall pay our folly's price in the forfeiture
+of that, without which, however we may pretend, we never are or can be
+happy; preferring to go without the very greatest of all earthly good,
+because it is not what, perhaps, it may be in heaven. Rather than this,
+it would be wise so to moderate our expectation, and adapt our conduct,
+as to gain of it a greater measure, or, as far as may be possible, to
+gather of its flowers without exposing ourselves to be wounded by the
+thorns it bears. This is only to be done by setting out in life with
+juster feelings and fairer expectations.
+
+It is not true, that friends are few and kindness rare. No one ever
+needed friends, and deserved them, and found them not; but we do not
+know them when we see them, or deal with them justly when we have them.
+We must allow others to be as variable, and imperfect, and faulty, as
+ourselves. We do not wish our readers to love their friends less, but to
+love them as what they are, rather than as what they wish them to be;
+and instead of the jealous pertinacity that is wounded by every
+appearance of change, and disgusted by every detection of a fault, and
+ready to distrust and cast away the kindest friends on every trifling
+difference of behavior and feeling, to cultivate a moderation in their
+demands; a patient allowance for the effect of time and circumstance; an
+indulgence towards peculiarities of temper and character; and, above
+all, such a close examination of what passes in their own hearts, as
+will teach them better to understand and excuse what they detect in the
+hearts of others; ever remembering that all things on earth are earthly;
+and therefore changeful, perishable, and uncertain.
+
+
+
+
+KINDRED HEARTS.
+
+
+    Oh! ask not, hope thou not too much
+      Of sympathy below;
+    Few are the hearts whence one same touch,
+      Bids the same fountain flow;
+    Few, and by still conflicting powers
+      Forbidden here to meet,
+    Such ties would make this life of ours
+      Too fair for aught so fleet.
+
+    It may be that thy brother's eye
+      Sees not as thine, which turns,
+    In such deep reverence, to the sky
+      Where the rich sunset burns;
+    It may be that the breath of spring,
+      Born amidst violets lone,
+    A rapture o'er thy soul can bring,
+      A dream to his unknown.
+
+    The tune that speaks of other times--
+      A sorrowful delight!
+    The melody of distant chimes;
+      The sound of waves by night;
+    The wind that with so many a tone
+      Some cord within can thrill;
+    These may have language all thine own,
+      To _him_ a mystery still.
+
+    Yet scorn thou not for this the true
+      And steadfast love of years;
+    The kindly, that from childhood grew,
+      The faithful to thy tears!
+    If there be one that o'er the dead
+      Hath in thy grief borne part,
+    And watched through sickness by thy bed,
+      Call _his_ a kindred heart.
+
+    But for those bonds, all perfect made,
+      Wherein bright spirits blend,
+    Like sister flowers of one sweet shade,
+      With the same breeze that bend;
+    For that full bliss of thought allied,
+      Never to mortals given,--
+    Oh! lay thy lovely dreams aside,
+      Or lift them unto heaven.
+
+
+
+
+CONVERSATION.
+
+
+Good conversation is one of the highest attainments of civilized
+society. It is the readiest way in which gifted minds exert their
+influence, and, as such, is worthy of all consideration and cultivation.
+I remember hearing an English traveler say, many years ago, on being
+asked how the conversational powers of the Americans compared with those
+of the English--"Your fluency rather exceeds that of the old world, but
+conversation here is not cultivated as an art." The idea of its being so
+considered any where was new to the company; and much discussion
+followed the departure of the stranger, as to the desirableness of
+making conversation an art. Some thought the more natural and
+spontaneous it was, the better; some confounded art with artifice, and
+hoped their countrymen would never leave their own plain, honest way of
+talking, to become adepts in hypocrisy and affectation. At last one, a
+little wiser than the rest, explained the difference between art and
+artifice; asked the cavilers if they had never heard of the art of
+writing, or the art of thinking? and said he presumed the art of
+conversing was of the same nature. And so it is. By this art, persons
+are taught to arrange their ideas methodically, and to express them with
+clearness and force; thus saving much precious time, and avoiding those
+tedious narrations which interest no one but the speaker. It enforces
+the necessity of observing the effect of what is said, and leads a
+talker to stop when she finds that she has ceased to fix the attention
+of her audience.
+
+Some persons seem to forget that mere talking is not conversing; that it
+requires two to make a conversation, and that each must be in turn a
+listener; but no one can be an agreeable companion who is not as willing
+to listen as to talk. Selfishness shows itself in this, as in a thousand
+other ways. One who is always full of herself, and who thinks nothing so
+important as what she thinks, and says, and does, will be apt to engross
+more than her share of the talk, even when in the company of those she
+loves.
+
+There are situations, however, wherein it is a kindness to be the chief
+talker: as when a young lady is the eldest of the party, and has seen
+something, or been in some place, the description of which is desired by
+all around her. If your mind is alive to the wishes and claims of
+others, you will easily perceive when it is a virtue to talk and when to
+be silent. It is undue pre-occupation with self which blinds people, and
+prevents their seeing what the occasion requires.
+
+Sometimes the most kind and sympathizing person will not do justice to
+her nature, but will appear to be cold and inattentive, because she
+does not know that it is necessary to give some sign that she is
+attending to what is addressed to her. She averts her eye from the
+speaker, and listens in such profound silence, and with a countenance so
+immovable, that no one could suppose her to be at all interested by what
+she is hearing. This is very discouraging to the speaker and very
+impolite. Good manners require that you should look at the person who
+speaks to you, and that you should put in a word, or a look, from time
+to time, that will indicate your interest in the narrative. A few
+interjections, happily thrown in by the hearer, are a great comfort and
+stimulus to the speaker; and one who has always been accustomed to this
+evidence of sympathy, or comprehension, in their friends, feels, when
+listened to without it, as if she were talking to a dead wall.
+
+For the encouragement of those who feel themselves deficient in
+conversational powers, we will subjoin a notice of the lately-deceased
+wife of a clergyman in this state:
+
+"I saw and felt, when with her, as few others have ever made me feel,
+the power and uses of conversation. With her it was always promotive of
+intellectual and moral life. And here let me inform you, for the
+encouragement of those who may be thinking they would gladly do as she
+did in society, if they were able, that when I first knew Mrs. B., her
+powers of conversation were very small. She was embarrassed whenever she
+attempted to convey her thoughts to others. She labored for expression
+so much, that it was sometimes painful to hear her. Still, her social,
+affectionate nature longed for communion with other minds and hearts, on
+all subjects of deepest import. Her persevering efforts at length
+prevailed, and her ardent love of truth gave her utterance: yes, an
+utterance that often delighted, and sometimes surprised, those who heard
+her; a readiness and fluency that are seldom equalled. Learn, then, from
+her, my friends, to _exercise_ your faculties, whatever they may be. In
+this way only can you improve, or even retain them. If you have but one
+talent of any sort, it may not, with impunity to itself--it may not,
+without sin to you--be wrapped in a napkin. And sigh not for higher
+powers or opportunities, until you have fully and faithfully exercised
+and improved such as you have. Nor can you know what you possess until
+you have called them into action."
+
+
+
+
+EXAGGERATION.
+
+
+It is a great mistake to suppose that exaggeration makes a person more
+agreeable, or that it adds to the importance of her statements. The
+value of a person's words is determined by her habitual use of them. "I
+like it much," "It is well done," will mean as much in some mouths, as
+"I am infinitely delighted with it," "'Tis the most exquisite thing I
+ever saw," will in others. Such large abatements are necessarily made
+for the statements of these romancers, that they really gain nothing in
+the end, but find it difficult sometimes to gain credence for so much as
+is really true; whereas, a person who is habitually sober and
+discriminating in his use of language, will not only inspire confidence,
+but be able to produce a fine effect by the occasional use of a
+superlative.
+
+Fidelity and exactness are indispensable in a narrative, and the habit
+of exaggerating destroys the power of accurate observation and
+recollection which would render the story truly interesting. If, instead
+of trying to embellish her account with the fruits of her imagination, a
+young lady possessed the power of seizing upon the points best worth
+describing, and could give an exact account of them, she would be far
+more entertaining than any exaggeration could make her; for there is no
+romance like that of real life, and no imaginings of an inexperienced
+girl can equal in piquancy the scenes and characters that are every day
+presented to our view. Extravagant expressions are sometimes resorted to
+in order to atone for deficiencies of memory and observation; but they
+will never hide such defects; and an habitual use of them lowers the
+tone of the mind, and leads to other deviations from the simplicity of
+truth and nature.
+
+Another way of falsifying a narrative, is by taking for granted what you
+do not know, and speaking of it as if you did. This jumping at
+conclusions is a fruitful source of false reports, and does great
+mischief in the world. Let no one imagine that she is walking
+conscientiously, who is not in the habit of discriminating nicely
+between what she knows to be fact and what she only supposes to be such.
+
+The frequent use of some favorite word, or phrase, is a common defect in
+conversation, and can only be guarded against by asking your friends to
+point it out to you, whenever they observe such a habit; for your own
+ear, having become accustomed to it, may not detect it. Some persons
+apply the epithets _glorious_ or _splendid_ to all sorts of objects
+indiscriminately, from a gorgeous sunset to a good dinner.
+
+A young lady once tried to describe a pic-nic party to me in the
+following terms: "There were ten of us--four on horseback and the rest
+in carriages. We set off at a _glorious_ rate, and had a _splendid_ time
+in getting there; I rode the most _elegant_, perfect creature you ever
+beheld, and capered along _gloriously_. When we all got there, we walked
+about in the woods, and gathered the most _splendid_ flowers, and dined
+under the shade of a _glorious_ old elm-tree. We had our cold provisions
+spread out on the grass, and every thing was _elegant_. We had
+_glorious_ appetites, too, and the ham and ale were _splendid_, and put
+us all in fine spirits. Some of the gentlemen sang funny songs; but one
+sang such a dreadfully sentimental one, and to such a horrid doleful
+tune, it made us all miserable. So then we broke up, and had a
+_splendid_ time packing away the things; such fun! I had almost killed
+myself with laughing, and we broke half the things. But the ride home
+was the most _splendid_ of all; we arrived at the top of the hill just
+in time to see the most _glorious_ sunset I ever beheld!"
+
+In this short account, the word "glorious" is used five times, and in
+all but the last, it is grossly misapplied. The same is the case with
+the word "splendid," except that it is not once used properly.
+"Elegant," too, is equally inapplicable to horses and cold provisions.
+Yet this style of conversing is so common, that it hardly arrests the
+attention of many, who nevertheless would condemn it at once, if they
+thought at all about it.
+
+
+
+
+EGOTISM.
+
+
+Has it ever happened to any but myself, to listen to I, I, I, in
+conversation, till, wearied with the monotony of the sound, I was fain
+to quarrel with the useful little word, and almost wish I could portray
+its hydra head, and present it in a mirror to my oracles, that they
+might turn away disgusted for ever with its hideous form.
+
+I took up my abode for some time with a lady, whose habits of
+benevolence were extensive, and of whose true philanthropy of heart I
+had heard much. I expected to follow her to the alms-house, the
+hospital, and the garret, and I was not disappointed. Thither she went,
+and for purposes the kindest and most noble. She relieved their pressing
+wants; ministered consolation in the kindest tone; and gave religious
+instruction wherever needed. But, then, she kept a strict calendar of
+all these pious visitings; and that, too, for the entertainment of her
+company. All were called upon to hear the history of the appalling
+scenes she had witnessed; the tears of gratitude that had fallen on her
+hands; the prayers--half articulate--that had been offered for her by
+the dying; and to hear her attestations of disregard to the opposition
+she had to encounter in these her labors of love. Who, with such an
+appeal, could withhold their commendations? I, therefore, of course, as
+I listened again and again to the same tale to different auditors, heard
+many pretty complimentary speeches about magnanimity, &c.; and, getting
+somewhat weary, I drew nearer to the lady's guests, till I actually
+thought I heard from one--he was a clergyman, I believe--an inward
+whisper that he would like to refer his friend to the four first verses
+of the sixth chapter of Matthew, but that it would be impolite. If my
+listening powers were too acute when I heard this, let me turn monitor
+at once, and assure my young friends, if they would have their
+conversation listened to with pleasure, they must be economists with
+_self_ as their subject.
+
+On behalf of the very young, we certainly have it to plead, that they
+know very little of any thing but what is, in some sense, their own. If
+they talk of persons, it must be their parents, their brothers and
+sisters, because they are the only people they know; if they talk of any
+body's affairs, it must be their own, because they are acquainted with
+no other; if of events, it must be what happens to themselves, for they
+hear nothing of what happens to any body else. As soon, therefore, as
+children begin to converse, it is most likely to be about themselves, or
+something that belongs to them; and to the rapid growing of this
+unwatched habit, may probably be attributed the ridiculous and offensive
+egotism of many persons in conversation, who, in conduct, prove that
+their feelings and affections are by no means self-engrossed. But the
+more indigenous this unsightly weed, the more need is there to prevent
+its growth. It has many varieties; the leaf is not always of the same
+shape, nor the flower of the same color, but they are all of one genus;
+and our readers who are botanists will have no difficulty in detecting
+them, however much affected by the soil they grow in. The _I's_ and
+_my's_ a lady exhibits in conversation, will bear such analogy to her
+character, as the wares on the stall of the bazaar bear to the trade of
+the vender. Or, if she have a great deal of what is called tact, she
+will, perhaps, vary the article according to the demands of the market.
+In fashionable life, it will be _my_ cousin Sir Ralph, _my_ father the
+Earl, and _my_ great uncle the Duke; the living relatives and the
+departed fathers; the halls of her family, their rent-rolls, or their
+graves, will afford abundant materials for any conversation she may have
+to furnish.
+
+Among those who, having gotten into the world they know not how, are
+determined it shall, at least, be known that they are there, it is _my_
+houses, _my_ servants, _my_ park, _my_ gardens; or, if the lady be too
+young to claim in her own behalf, _my_ father's houses, &c., &c., will
+answer all the purpose. But, happily for the supply of this kind of
+talk, rank and wealth, though very useful, are not necessary to it.
+Without any ostentation whatever, but merely from the habit of occupying
+themselves with their own individuality, some will let the company
+choose the subject; but, be it what it may, all they have to say upon it
+is the _I_, or the _my_. Books, travel, sorrow, sickness, nature, art,
+no matter, it is _I_ have seen, _I_ have done, _I_ have been, _I_ have
+learned, _I_ have suffered, _I_ have known. Whatever it be to others,
+the _I_ is the subject for them; for they tell you nothing of the matter
+but their own concern with it. For example, let the city of Naples be
+spoken of: one will tell you what is seen there--what is done
+there--what happens there--and making her reflections on all without
+naming herself; you will only perceive, by her knowledge and remarks,
+that she has been in Naples. Another will tell you how she came there,
+and why she went, and how long she staid, and what she did, and what she
+saw; and the things themselves will appear but as incidents to the idea
+of self.
+
+Some ladies I have known, who, not content with the present display of
+their powers, are determined to re-sell their wares at second-hand. They
+tell you all the witty things they said to somebody yesterday, and the
+wise remarks they made to a certain company last night. _I_ said--_I_
+remarked. The commodity should be valuable indeed to be thus brought to
+market a second time. Others there are, who, under pretext of
+confidence--little complimentary when shown alike to all--pester people
+with their own affairs. Before you have been two hours in their company,
+you are introduced to all their family, and to all their family's
+concerns, pecuniary affairs, domestic secrets, and personal feelings--a
+sort of bird's-eye view of every thing that belongs to them--past,
+present, and to come; and woe to the secrets of those who may chance to
+have been in connection with these egotists; in such a view, you must
+needs see ten miles around.
+
+There is an egotism, of which we must speak more seriously. Faults, that
+in the world we laugh at, when they attain the dignity and purity of
+sacred things, become matter of serious regret. I speak nothing further
+of the ostentatious display of pious and benevolent exertion. We live at
+a time when religion, its deepest and dearest interests, have become a
+subject of general conversation. We would have it so; but we mark, with
+regret, that self has introduced itself here. The heartless
+loquacity--we must say heartless, for, in a matter of such deep
+interest, facility of speech bespeaks the feelings light--the
+unshrinking jabber with which people tell you their soul's
+history--their past impressions and present difficulties--their
+doctrines and their doubts--their manifestations and their
+experiences--not in the ear of confidence, to have those doubts removed
+and those doctrines verified; not in the ear of anxious inquiry, to
+communicate knowledge and give encouragement, but any where, in any
+company, and to any body who will listen, the _I_ felt--_I_ thought--_I_
+experienced. Sorrows that, if real, should blanch the cheek to think
+upon; mercies that enwrap all hearers in amazement, they will tell as
+unconcernedly as the adventures of the morning. The voice falters not;
+the color changes not; the eye moistens not. And to what purpose all
+this personality? To get good, or do good? By no means; but that,
+whatever subject they look upon, they always see themselves in the
+foreground of the picture, with every minute particular swelled into
+importance, while all besides is merged in indistinctness.
+
+We may be assured there is nothing so ill-bred, so annoying, so little
+entertaining, so absolutely impertinent, as this habit of talking always
+with reference to ourselves; for every body has a self of their own, to
+which they attach as much importance as we to ours, and see all others'
+matters small in the comparison. The lady of rank has her castles and
+her ancestors--they are the foreground of her picture. There they stood
+when she came into being; and there they are still, in all the magnitude
+of near perspective; and, if her estimate of their real size be not
+corrected by experience and good sense, she expects that others will see
+them as large as she does. But that will not be so. The lady of wealth
+has gotten her houses and lands in the foreground. These are the larger
+features in her landscape; titles and the castles are seen at a smaller
+angle. Neither lady will admire the proportions of her neighbor's
+drawing, should they chance to discover themselves in each other's
+conversation. She, again--whether rich or poor--whose world is her own
+domesticity, sees nothing so prominent as the affairs of her nursery or
+her household; and perceives not that, in the eyes of others, her
+children are a set of diminutives, undistinguishable in the mass of
+humanity, in which that they ever existed, or that they cease to exist,
+is matter of equal indifference.
+
+It is thus, that each one attributes to the objects around him, not
+their true and actual proportion, but a magnitude proportioned to their
+nearness to himself. We say not that he draws ill who does so: for, to
+each one, things are important, more or less, in proportion to his own
+interest in them. But hence is the mischief. We forget that every one
+has a self of his own; and that the constant setting forth of ours is,
+to others, preposterous, obtrusive, and ridiculous. The painter who
+draws a folio in the front of his picture, and a castle in the distance,
+properly draws the book the larger of the two: but he must be a fool, if
+he therefore thinks the folio is the larger, and expects every body else
+to think so too. Yet, nothing wiser are we, when we suffer ourselves to
+be perpetually pointing to ourselves, our affairs, and our possessions,
+as if they were as interesting to others as they are important to us.
+
+
+
+
+GENTLENESS.
+
+
+Nothing is so likely to conciliate the affections of the other sex, as a
+feeling that woman looks to them for support and guidance. In proportion
+as men are themselves superior, they are as accessible to this appeal.
+On the contrary, they never feel interested in one who seems disposed
+rather to offer than to ask assistance. There is, indeed, something
+unfeminine in independence. It is contrary to nature and, therefore, it
+offends. We do not like to see a woman affecting tremors, but still less
+do we like to see her acting the Amazon. A really sensible woman feels
+her dependence; she does what she can, but she is conscious of
+inferiority, and, therefore, grateful for support; she knows that she is
+the weaker vessel, and that, as such, she should receive honor.
+
+In every thing, therefore, that women attempt, they should show their
+consciousness of dependence. If they are learners, let them evince a
+teachable spirit; if they give an opinion, let them do it in an
+unassuming manner. There is something so unpleasant in female
+self-sufficiency, that it not unfrequently deters, instead of
+persuading, and prevents the adoption of advice which the judgment even
+approves. Yet this is a fault into which women, of certain pretensions,
+are occasionally betrayed. Age, or experience, or superior endowment,
+entitles them, they imagine, to assume a higher place and a more
+independent tone. But their sex should ever teach them to be
+subordinate; and they should remember that influence is obtained, not by
+assumption, but by a delicate appeal to affection or principle. Women,
+in this respect, are something like children; the more they show their
+need of support, the more engaging they are.
+
+The appropriate expression of dependence is gentleness. However endowed
+with superior talents a woman may be, without gentleness she cannot be
+agreeable. Gentleness ought to be the characteristic of the sex; and
+there is nothing that can compensate for the want of this feminine
+attraction.
+
+Gentleness is, indeed, the talisman of woman. To interest the feelings
+is to her much easier than to convince the judgment; the heart is far
+more accessible to her influence than the head. She never gains so much
+as by concession; and is never so likely to overcome, as when she seems
+to yield.
+
+Gentleness prepossesses at first sight; it insinuates itself into the
+vantage ground, and gains the best position by surprise. While a display
+of skill and strength calls forth a counter array, gentleness, at once,
+disarms opposition, and wins the day before it is contested.
+
+
+
+
+SISTERLY VIRTUES.
+
+
+Sisterly affection is as graceful in its developments to the eye of the
+beholder, as it is cheering to the heart where it resides. There are
+some who, though not deficient in its more important duties, are but too
+regardless of those lesser demonstrations of attachment, which are so
+soothing to the susceptible heart. Every delicate attention which
+tenderness prompts; every mark of politeness which refined society
+requires, ought to pervade the intercourse of brothers and sisters. It
+is a mistake that good manners are to be reserved for visitors, and
+that, in the family circle, negligence and coarseness may be indulged
+with impunity. Even nature's affections may be undermined or shaken by
+perseverance in an improper deportment, more than by lapses into error
+and folly. For the latter, repentance may atone, while the former check
+the flow of the heart's warm fountains, until they stagnate or become
+congealed.
+
+I knew a father, himself a model of polished manners, who required of
+his large family to treat each other, at all times, with the same
+politeness that they felt was due to their most distinguished guest.
+Rudeness, neglect, or indifference were never tolerated in their circle.
+Respect to each other's opinion; a disposition to please and be
+pleased; care in dress, and courtesy of manner, were not considered
+thrown away, if bestowed on a brother or a sister. Every one of the
+group was instructed to bring amiable feelings and powers of
+entertainment to their own fire side. The result was happy. The brothers
+felt it an honor to wait upon their sisters, and the sisters a pleasure
+to do all in their power for the comfort and improvement of their
+brothers. This daily practice of every decorum, imparted to their
+manners an enduring grace, while the affections, which Heaven implanted,
+seemed to gather strength from the beauty of their interchange. I would
+not assert that fraternal or sisterly affection may not be deep and
+pervading without such an exterior, yet it is surely rendered more
+lovely by it; as the planets might pursue in darkness the order of their
+course, but it is their brilliance which reveals and embellishes it.
+
+Every well-regulated family might be as a perpetual school. The younger
+members, witnessing the example of those whose excellence is more
+confirmed, will be led, by the principle of imitation, more effectually,
+than by the whole force of foreign precept. The custom of the older
+daughters, to assist in the education of their less advanced sisters, I
+rejoice to see, is becoming more common. It cannot be too highly
+applauded. What should prevent their assuming the systematic office of
+instructors, when circumstances are favorable to such an arrangement.
+
+By what method can a daughter more fully evince her gratitude to her
+parents, than by aiding their children in the search of knowledge and of
+goodness. How amiable, how praiseworthy, is that disposition which
+prompts a young and beautiful creature to come forth as the ally of a
+mother, in that most overwhelming of all anxieties, so to train her
+little ones as to form at last an unbroken family in heaven. No better
+apprenticeship could be devised, and no firmer hostage given to God or
+man for its faithful performance.
+
+
+
+
+HOME.
+
+
+    Where burns the lov'd hearth brightest,
+      Cheering the social breast?
+    Where beats the fond heart lightest,
+      Its humble hopes possess'd?
+    Where is the smile of sadness,
+      Of meek-eyed patience born,
+    Worth more than those of gladness,
+      Which mirth's bright cheek adorn?
+    Pleasure is marked by fleetness,
+      To those who ever roam;
+    While grief itself has sweetness
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    There blend the ties that strengthen
+      Our hearts in hours of grief;
+    The silver links that lengthen
+      Joy's visits when most brief;
+    There eyes, in all their splendor,
+      Are vocal to the heart,
+    And glances, gay or tender,
+      Fresh eloquence impart;
+    Then, dost thou sigh for pleasure?
+      O! do not widely roam,
+    But seek that hidden treasure
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    Does pure religion charm thee
+      Far more than aught below?
+    Would'st thou that she should arm thee
+      Against the hour of woe?
+    Think not she dwelleth only
+      In temples built for prayer;
+    For home itself is lonely,
+      Unless her smiles be there;
+    The devotee may falter,
+      The bigot blindly roam,
+    If worshipless her altar
+      At home! dear home!
+
+    Love over it presideth,
+      With meek and watchful awe,
+    Its daily service guideth,
+      And shows its perfect law?
+    If there thy faith shall fail thee,
+      If there no shrine be found,
+    What can thy prayers avail thee
+      With kneeling crowds around?
+    Go! leave thy gift unoffered
+      Beneath religion's dome,
+    And be thy first fruits proffered
+      At home! dear home!
+
+
+
+
+FIRESIDE INFLUENCE.
+
+
+Is it not true that parents are the lawgivers of their children? Does
+not a mother's counsel--does not a father's example--cling to the
+memory, and haunt us through life? Do we not often find ourselves
+subject to habitual trains of thought? and, if we seek to discover the
+origin of these, are we not insensibly led back, by some beaten and
+familiar track, to the paternal threshold? Do we not often discover some
+home-chiseled grooves in our minds, into which the intellectual
+machinery seems to slide, as by a sort of necessity? Is it not, in
+short, a proverbial truth, that the controlling lessons of life are
+given beneath the parental roof? We know, indeed, that wayward passions
+spring up in early life, and, urging us to set authority at defiance,
+seek to obtain the mastery of the heart. But, though struggling for
+liberty and license, the child is shaped and molded by the parent. The
+stream that bursts from the fountain, and seems to rush forward headlong
+and self-willed, still turns hither and thither, according to the shape
+of its mother-earth over which it flows. If an obstacle is thrown across
+its path, it gathers strength, breaks away the barrier, and again bounds
+forward. It turns, and winds, and proceeds on its course, till it
+reaches its destiny in the sea. But, in all this, it has shaped its
+course and followed out its career, from babbling infancy at the
+fountain to its termination in the great reservoir of waters, according
+to the channel which its parent earth has provided. Such is the
+influence of a parent over his child. It has within itself a will, and
+at its bidding it goes forward, but the parent marks out its track. He
+may not stop its progress, but he may guide its course. He may not throw
+a dam across its path, and say to it, hitherto mayest thou go, and no
+farther; but he may turn it through safe, and gentle, and useful
+courses--or he may leave it to plunge over wild cataracts, or lose
+itself in some sandy desert, or collect its strength into a torrent, but
+to spread ruin and desolation along its borders.
+
+The fireside, then, is a seminary of infinite importance: it is
+important, because it is universal, and because the education it
+bestows, being woven in with the woof of childhood, gives form and color
+to the whole texture of life. There are few who can receive the honors
+of a college, but all are graduates of the hearth. The learning of the
+university may fade from the recollection, its classic lore may molder
+in the halls of memory; but the simple lessons of home, enameled upon
+the heart of childhood, defy the rust of years, and outlive the more
+mature but less vivid pictures of after days. So deep, so lasting,
+indeed, are the impressions of early life, that we often see a man, in
+the imbecility of age, holding fresh in his recollection the events of
+childhood, while all the wide space between that and the present hour is
+a blasted and forgotten waste. You have perchance seen an old and
+half-obliterated portrait, and, in the attempt to have it cleaned and
+restored, may have seen it fade away, while a brighter and more perfect
+picture, painted beneath, is revealed to view. This portrait, first
+drawn upon the canvas, is no inapt illustration of youth; and, though
+it may be concealed by some after-design, still the original traits will
+shine through the outward picture, giving it tone while fresh, and
+surviving it in decay. Such is the fireside--the great institution
+furnished by Providence for the education of man.
+
+
+
+
+PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
+
+
+THE TEETH.
+
+The prevalence of defective teeth in this country is the general subject
+of remark by foreigners; and whoever has traveled in Spain and Portugal
+is struck with the superior soundness and whiteness of teeth in those
+countries. Though not a cleanly people in other respects, they wash
+their teeth often, and, by means of toothpicks, carefully remove all
+substances from between them after meals. A little silver porcupine,
+with holes all over its back to insert toothpicks, is a common ornament
+on the dining tables of Spain and Portugal. The general use of them
+creates so large a demand, that students at Coimbra sometimes support
+themselves by whittling toothpicks, which are sold tied in small bunches
+like matches. They are made of willow, on account of its toughness and
+pliability. Toothpicks of metal are too hard, and are apt to injure the
+gums. There is the same objection, in a less degree, to quills. But
+willow toothpicks are preferable to all others; and they have the
+advantage of being the most cleanly, for they generally break in the
+using, and are thrown away. Few sights are more offensive to a person
+of any refinement than a toothpick that has been much used; it is,
+moreover, uncleanly, and therefore not healthy for the teeth. Food
+allowed to remain between the teeth, particularly animal food, is very
+destructive: it should be carefully removed after every meal, and the
+mouth thoroughly rinsed. This may seem to some like a great talk about a
+small matter; but these are simple precautions to take, and very slight
+trouble compared with the agony of aching teeth, or a breath so
+offensive that your best friend does not wish to sit near you. I can see
+no reason why a man's complexion should exclude him from the
+dining-table, but I do see a very good reason why he should be banished
+for not taking proper care of his teeth. A bad breath is such a
+detestable thing, that it might be a sufficient reason for not marrying
+a person of otherwise agreeable qualities. It is, moreover, perfectly
+inexcusable thus to transform oneself into a walking sepulchre. Nobody
+needs to have an offensive breath. A careful removal of substances from
+between the teeth, rinsing the mouth after meals, and a bit of charcoal
+held in the mouth, will _always_ cure a bad breath. Charcoal, used as a
+dentifrice--that is, rubbed on in powder with a brush--is apt to injure
+the enamel; but a lump of it, held in the mouth, two or three times in a
+week, and slowly chewed, has a wonderful power to preserve the teeth and
+purify the breath. The action is purely chemical. It counteracts the
+acid arising from a disordered stomach, or food decaying about the
+gums; and it is the acid which destroys the teeth.
+
+Every one knows that charcoal is an antiputrescent, and is used in
+boxing up animal or vegetable substances, to keep them from decay. Upon
+the same chemical principle, it tends to preserve the teeth and sweeten
+the breath. There is no danger from swallowing it; on the contrary,
+small quantities have a healthful effect on the inward system,
+particularly when the body is suffering from that class of complaints
+peculiarly incident to summer. It would not be wise to swallow that or
+any other gritty substance, in large quantities, or very frequently;
+but, once or twice a week, a little would be salutary, rather than
+otherwise. A bit of charcoal, as big as a cherry, merely held in the
+mouth a few hours, without chewing, has a good effect. At first, most
+persons dislike to chew it, but use soon renders it far from
+disagreeable. Those who are troubled with an offensive breath might chew
+it very often and swallow it but seldom. It is particularly important to
+clean and rinse the mouth thoroughly before going to bed; otherwise a
+great deal of the destructive acid will form during the night.
+
+If these hints induce only _one_ person to take better care of the
+teeth, I shall be more than rewarded for the trouble of writing. It is
+painful to see young persons losing their teeth merely for want of a few
+simple precautions; and one cannot enter stage or steam-car without
+finding the atmosphere polluted, and rendered absolutely unhealthy for
+the lungs to breathe, when a proper use of water and charcoal might
+render it as wholesome and pleasant as a breeze of Eden.
+
+
+THE HAIR.
+
+No part of the human frame offers a finer subject for the display of
+decorative taste and elegance than the hair:--the countenance, the
+contour of the head, and even the whole person, may be said to be
+greatly affected by its arrangement and dress. As the possession of fine
+hair is peculiarly prized, so is its loss proportionally felt.
+
+Like every other portion of the human frame, the use of _water_ to the
+hair is absolutely essential to its health, as it tends to relieve the
+secretions and open the pores of the skin. The frequency of the use of
+water, however, should be guided by circumstances. It may be set down as
+a regulating principle, that the stronger and more healthy the hair may
+be, the more water may be used with propriety; by the same rule, when
+the hair is weak and thin, it should not be washed more than once
+a-week. At such times, _cold water_ alone should be used, when care
+should be taken to dry it well immediately after. Washing too often,
+dries up the requisite oily fluid that forms the nourishment of the
+hair.
+
+Some judgment is necessary in the choice of brushes. Two are necessary:
+a penetrating and a polishing brush; the one composed of strong, and
+the other of fine hair. The penetrating brush (especially that used by
+ladies) should be made of elastic hairs, rather inclining to irregular
+lengths. The other should be made of firm, soft, silken hair, thickly
+studded. Unfortunately, however, we cannot but observe that penetrating
+brushes are often selected, so harsh and strong, that they fret the skin
+of the head, and injure the roots, instead of gently and gradually
+effecting the object for which they were intended.
+
+Combs are merely used for the purpose of giving a form to the hair, and
+assisting in its decorative arrangement; to use them too often, is
+rather prejudicial than otherwise, as they injure the roots of the hair.
+Above all kinds, that of the small-toothed comb is the most injurious in
+this respect, as it not only inflames the tender skin, but, from the
+fineness of its teeth, splits and crushes the hairs in being passed
+through them. Persons must indeed be of very uncleanly habits, whose
+heads absolutely require the aid of this comb, as the brush alone
+sufficiently possesses the power of effectually cleaning the hair from
+scurf, dandriff, and dust, if constantly used.
+
+To persons whose hair is in a declining state, the frequent and regular
+use of oil or bear's grease is often of much service, as it is
+calculated to assist in supplying that nourishment which is so
+necessary. No oil perhaps has ever acquired a greater celebrity than
+Rowland's Macassar; for this reason we cannot but recommend it to the
+notice of our readers.
+
+One of the most pernicious methods of dressing the hair, at the expense
+of its health, is by curling. This not only dries up the moisture that
+circulates through the hairs, but the heat and compression thus used
+completely prevent proper circulation. When, however, the habit is
+persisted in, its ill effects may be much obviated by constantly
+brushing the hair well, and having it frequently cut, by which means the
+necessary circulation is kept up, and the roots invigorated.
+
+
+THE HANDS.
+
+"Why don't my hands look and feel as it would seem that the perfect
+Author of all things would have them?" How many a young man and woman
+have asked this question! and are troubled to know why it is that some
+persons have such bloodless hands, perfect nails, so free from
+hang-nails, as they are called, while their own hands look so much like
+duck's feet or bird's claws.
+
+All sorts of cosmetics, the most penetrating oils, rubbing and scouring
+the hands, paring and scraping the nails, and cutting round the roots of
+the nails, are resorted to, in hopes of making their hands appear
+natural; but all avails nothing, and many a poor hand is made to perform
+all its manipulations _incognito_. About the piano, in the social party,
+in the house, and in the street, the hand--the most exquisite, or what
+should be the most beautiful and useful part of the human frame--is
+_gloved_. And why? Because it is not fit to be seen.
+
+Now, reader, I am about to tell you of a positive cure. In the first
+place, never cut or scrape your finger-nails with a knife or scissors,
+except in paring them down to the end of the fingers. Secondly, use
+nothing but a good stiff nail-brush, fine soap, and water, and rub the
+nails and hands briskly with these every morning the _year round_. In
+the third place, I would have you know that surfeiting will invariably
+produce heavy, burning hands. An impure state of the blood will manifest
+itself in the hands sooner than in most other parts of the body. If you
+have bad hands, be assured that the quantity or quality, or both, of
+your diet is wrong.
+
+If you try to profit by these suggestions, you will, before one year
+expires, be no longer ashamed of your hands.
+
+
+
+
+DRESS.
+
+
+There are some rules, which, being based on first principles, are of
+universal application. And one of these belongs to our present subject,
+_viz:_ nothing can be truly beautiful which is not appropriate. Nature
+and the fine arts teach us this. All styles of dress, therefore, which
+impede the motions of the wearer--which do not sufficiently protect the
+person--which add unnecessarily to the heat of summer, or to the cold of
+winter--which do not suit the age or occupations of the wearer, or which
+indicate an expenditure unsuited to her means, are _inappropriate_, and,
+therefore, destitute of one of the essential elements of beauty.
+Propriety, or fitness, lies at the foundation of all good taste in
+dressing; and to this test should be brought a variety of particulars,
+too numerous to be mentioned, but which may be thus illustrated: The
+dress that would be very proper on occasion of a morning visit in a
+city, would be so out of place, if worn by the same person when making
+preserves or pastry, or when scrambling through the bushes in a country
+walk, that it would cease to look well. A simple calico gown and white
+apron would be so much more convenient and suitable, that the wearer
+would actually look better in them.
+
+Some persons, also, toil early and late, and strain every nerve to
+procure an expensive garment, and think that once arrayed in it, they
+shall look as well as some richer neighbor, whose style of dress they
+wish to imitate. But they forget that, if it does not accord with their
+general style of living--if it is out of harmony with other things, it
+will so strike every body; and this want of fitness will prevent its
+looking well on them.
+
+Let a true sense of propriety of the fitness of things regulate all your
+habits of living and dressing, and it will produce such a beautiful
+harmony and consistency of character, as to throw a charm around you
+that all may feel, though few may comprehend. Always consider well
+whether the articles of dress which you wish to purchase are suited to
+your age--your condition--your means--to the climate--to the particular
+use to which you mean to put them; and then let the principles of good
+taste keep you from the extremes of fashion; and regulate the form so as
+to combine utility and beauty, while the known rules of harmony in
+colors save you from shocking the eye of the artist by incongruous
+mixtures.
+
+The character is much more shown in the style of dress that is worn
+every day, than in that which is designed for great occasions; and when
+I see a young girl come down to the family breakfast in an untidy
+wrapper, with her hair in papers, her feet slip-shod, and an old silk
+handkerchief round her neck, I know that she cannot be the neat,
+industrious, and refined person whom I should like for an inmate. I feel
+equally certain, too, that her chamber is not kept in neat order, and
+that she does not set a proper value upon time. However well a lady has
+appeared at a party, I would recommend to a young gentleman--before he
+makes up his mind as to her domestic qualities--to observe her
+appearance at the breakfast-table, when she expects to see only her own
+family; and, if it be such as I have just described, to beware how he
+prosecutes the acquaintance.
+
+
+
+
+COMPRESSION OF THE LUNGS.
+
+
+Few circumstances are more injurious to beauty than the constrained
+movement, suffused complexion, and labored respiration that betray
+tight-lacing. The play of intelligence, and varied emotion, which throw
+such a charm over the brow of youth, are impeded by whatever obstructs
+the flow of blood from the heart to its many organs. In Greece, where
+the elements of beauty and grace were earliest comprehended, and most
+happily illustrated, the fine symmetry of the form was left untortured.
+
+But the influence of this habit on beauty is far less to be deprecated
+than its effects upon health. That pulmonary disease, affections of the
+heart, and insanity, are in its train, and that it leads some of our
+fairest and dearest to Fashion's shrine to die, is placed beyond a doubt
+by strong medical testimony.
+
+Dr. Mussey, whose "_Lectures on Intemperance_" have so forcibly arrested
+the attention of the public, asserts that "greater numbers annually die
+among the female sex, in consequence of tight-lacing, than are destroyed
+among the other sex by the use of spirituous liquors in the same time."
+Is it possible that thousands of our own sex, in our own native land,
+lay, with their own hand, the foundation of diseases that destroy
+life!--and are willing, for fashion's sake, to commit suicide!
+
+Dr. Todd, the late Principal of the Retreat for the Insane, in
+Connecticut, to whom science and philanthropy are indebted, adduces many
+instances of the fearful effects of obstructed circulation on the brain.
+Being requested by the instructress of a large female seminary to
+enforce on her pupils the evils of compression in dress, he said, with
+that eloquence of eye and soul, which none, who once felt their
+influence, can ever forget: "The whole course of your studies, my dear
+young ladies, conspires to impress you with reverence for antiquity.
+Especially do you turn to Greece for the purest models in the fine arts,
+and the loftiest precepts of philosophy. While sitting, as disciples, at
+the feet of her men of august minds, you may have sometimes doubted how
+to balance, or where to bestow your admiration. The acuteness of
+Aristotle--the purity of Plato--the calm, unrepented satisfaction of
+Socrates--the varied lore of Epicurus, and the lofty teachings of Zeno,
+have alternately attracted or absorbed your attention. Permit me to
+suppose, that the high-toned ethics of the Stoics, and their elevation
+of mind, which could teach its frail companion, the body, the proud
+lesson of insensibility to pain, have won your peculiar complaisance.
+Yet, while meting out to them the full measure of your applause, have
+you ever recollected that modern times--that your own country came in
+competition for a share of fame! Has it occurred to you that your own
+sex--even the most delicate and tender part of it--exceeded the ancient
+Stoics in the voluntary infliction of pain, and extinction of pity? Yes;
+some of the timid and beautiful members of this seminary may enter the
+lists with Zeno, Cleanthus, and Chrysippus, and cherish no slight hope
+of victory. I trust to prove to you that the ancient and sublime Stoics
+were very tyros in comparison with many a lady of our own times. In
+degree of suffering, extent of endurance, and in perfection of
+concealment, they must yield the palm. I do assure you, that, its most
+illustrious masters--fruitful as they were in tests to try the
+body--never invented, imagined, nor would have been able to sustain that
+torture of tight-lacing which the modern belle steadily inflicts without
+shrinking, and bears without repining sometimes to her very grave. True,
+they might sometimes have broken a bone, or plucked out an eye, and been
+silent; but they never grappled iron and whalebone into the very nerves
+and life-blood of their system. They might possibly have passed a dagger
+too deeply info the heart, and died; but they never drew a ligature of
+suffocation around it, and _expected to live_! They never tied up the
+mouths of the millions of air-vessels in the lungs, and then taxed them
+to the full measure of action and respiration. Even Pharaoh only
+demanded bricks without straw for a short time; but the fashionable lady
+asks to live without breathing for many years!
+
+"The ancient Stoics taught that the nearest approach to apathy was the
+perfection of their doctrine. They prudently rested in utter
+indifference; they did not attempt to go beyond it; they did not claim
+absolute denial of all suffering; still less did they enjoin to persist
+and rejoice in it, even to the 'dividing asunder of soul and body.' In
+this, too, you will perceive the tight-laced lady taking a flight beyond
+the sublime philosopher. She will not admit that she feels the slightest
+inconvenience. Though she has fairly won laurels to which no Stoic dared
+aspire, yet she studiously disclaims the distinction which she faced
+death to earn--yea, denies that she has either part of lot in the
+matter; surpassing in modesty, as well as in desert, all that antiquity
+can boast or history record."
+
+We quote the following from Miss Sedgwick: "One word as to these small
+waists: Symmetry is essential to beauty of form. A waist
+disproportionately small is a deformity to an instructed eye. Women must
+have received their notions of small waists from ignorant dress-makers.
+If young ladies could hear the remarks made on these small waists by men
+generally, and especially men of taste, they would never again show
+themselves till they had loosened their corset-laces and enlarged their
+belts."
+
+
+
+
+LETTER-WRITING.
+
+
+It sometimes happens that, in fashionable penmanship, the circumstance
+that it is _to be deciphered_ seems to have been forgotten. "To read so
+as not to be understood, and to write so as not to be read, are among
+the minor immoralities," says the excellent Mrs. Hannah More. Elegant
+chirography, and a clear epistolary style, are accomplishments which
+every educated female should possess. Their indispensable requisites
+are, neatness, the power of being easily perused, orthographical and
+grammatical correctness. Defects in either of these particulars, are
+scarcely pardonable. The hand-writing is considered by many, one of the
+talismans of character. Whether this test may be depended on or not, the
+fact that letters travel farther than the sound of the voice, or the
+sight of the countenance can follow, renders it desirable that they
+should convey no incorrect or unfavorable impression. The lesser
+niceties of folding, sealing, and superscription, are not beneath the
+notice of a lady.
+
+Letter-writing is a subject of so varied and extensive a nature, that it
+can scarcely be reduced to rules or taught by precept; but some
+instructions respecting it may afford assistance in avoiding error, and
+obtaining a degree of excellence in this most important exercise.
+
+When you write a letter to any person, express the same sentiments and
+use the same language as you would do if you were conversing with him.
+"Write eloquently," says Mr. Gray, "that is, from your heart, in such
+expressions as that will furnish."
+
+Before you begin a letter, especially when it is on any occasion of
+importance, weigh well in your own mind the design and purport of it;
+and consider very attentively what sentiments are most proper for you to
+express, and your correspondent to read.
+
+To assist invention and promote order, it may, as some writers on
+epistolary composition recommend, occasionally be of use to make, in the
+mind, a division of a letter into three parts, the beginning, middle,
+and end; or, in other words, the exordium or introduction, the narration
+or proposition, and the conclusion. The exordium, or introduction,
+should be employed, not indeed with the formality of rhetoric, but with
+the ease of genuine politeness and benevolence, in conciliating favor
+and attention; the narration or proposition, in stating the business
+with clearness and precision; the conclusion, in confirming what has
+been premised, in making apologies where any are necessary, and in
+cordial expressions of respect, esteem, or affection.
+
+Scrupulously adhere to the rules of grammar. Select and apply all your
+words with a strict regard to their proper signification, and whenever
+you have any doubts respecting the correctness or propriety of them,
+consult a dictionary or some good living authority. Avoid, with
+particular care, all errors in orthography, in punctuation, and in the
+arrangement of words and phrases.
+
+Dashes, underlinings, and interlineations, are much used by unskillful
+and careless writers, merely as substitutes for proper punctuation, and
+a correct, regular mode of expression. The frequent recurrence of them
+greatly defaces a letter, and is equally inconsistent with neatness of
+appearance and regularity of composition. All occasion for
+interlineations may usually be superseded by a little previous thought
+and attention. Dashes are proper only when the sense evidently requires
+a greater pause than the common stops designate. And in a
+well-constructed sentence, to underline a word is wholly useless, except
+on some very particular occasion we wish to attract peculiar attention
+to it, or to give it an uncommon degree of importance or emphasis.
+
+Postscripts have a very awkward appearance, and they generally indicate
+thoughtlessness and inattention. To make use of them in order to convey
+assurances of respect to the person to whom you write, or to those who
+are intimately connected with him, is particularly improper; it seems to
+imply that the sentiments you express are so slightly impressed upon
+your mind, that you had almost forgotten them or thought them scarcely
+worth mentioning.
+
+
+
+
+MUSIC.
+
+
+This accomplishment, so popular at the present time, is a source of
+surpassing delight to many minds. From its power to soothe the feelings
+and modify the passions, it seems desirable to understand it, if it does
+not involve too great expense of time. Vocal music is an accomplishment
+within the reach of most persons. "I have a piano within myself," said a
+little girl, "and I can play on that, if I have no other."
+
+An excellent clergyman, possessing much knowledge of human nature,
+instructed his large family of daughters in the theory and practice of
+music. They were all observed to be exceedingly amiable and happy. A
+friend inquired if there was any secret in his mode of education. He
+replied, "When any thing disturbs their temper, I say to them _sing_;
+and, if I hear them speaking against any person, I call them to sing to
+me, and so they have sung away all causes of discontent, and every
+disposition to scandal." Such a use of this accomplishment might serve
+to fit a family for the company of angels and the clime of praise. Young
+voices around the domestic altar, breathing sacred music at the hour of
+morning and evening devotions, are a sweet and touching accompaniment.
+
+Instrumental music, being more expensive in its attainment, both of
+money and time, and its indifferent performance giving pain to those
+of refined sensibility, seems scarcely desirable to be cultivated,
+unless the impulse of native taste prompts or justifies the labor. The
+spirited pen of Miss Martineau, in her "Five First Years of Youth," has
+sketched a pleasing description of a young lady, possessing a strong
+predilection for music. "She sang much and often, not that she had any
+particular aim at being very accomplished, but because she loved it, or,
+as she said, because she could not help it. She sang to Nurse Rickham's
+children; she sang as she went up and down stairs; she sang when she was
+glad, and when she was sorry; when her father was at home, because he
+liked it; and when he was out, because he could not be disturbed by it.
+In the woods, at noonday, she sang like a bird, that a bird might answer
+her; and, if she awoke in the dark night, the feeling of solemn music
+came over her, with which she dared not break the silence."
+
+Where such a taste exists, there is no doubt that opportunities for its
+improvement should be gladly accepted. Where there is no taste, it seems
+cause of regret, when time, perhaps health, are sacrificed to the
+accomplishment. Even where a tolerable performance of instrumental music
+might probably be attained, without the prompting of decided taste,
+there may be danger of absorbing too much of time and attention from
+those employments which a female ought to understand and will be
+expected to discharge, and which are in reality of far greater
+importance.
+
+
+
+
+FLOWERS.
+
+
+    "Who does not love a flower
+    Its hues are taken from the light
+    Which summer's suns fling, pure and bright,
+    In scatter'd and prismatic hues,
+    That smile and shine in drooping dews;
+    Its fragrance from the sweetest air--
+    Its form from all that's light and fair--
+    Who does not love a flower?"
+
+
+In the two great floral kingdoms of nature, the botanical and the human,
+if we must yield the palm to that which is alike transcendent in the
+beauty of form and motion, and in the higher attributes of intelligence,
+innocence, and rural perfection, yet it can be no derogation to admire,
+with a rapture bordering upon enthusiasm, the splendid products of the
+garden; and especially when their beauties are combined and arranged
+with an exquisite and refined taste. What is the heart made of which can
+find no sentiment in flowers! In the dahlia, for example, we see what
+can be done by human skill and art, in educating and training a simple
+and despised plant, scarcely thought worthy of cultivation, to the
+highest rank of gayety and glory in the aristocracy of flowers. We may
+learn, from such success, a lesson of encouragement, in the education
+and training of flowers, of an infinitely higher value and perfection.
+
+The vast creation of God--the centre and source of good--is every where
+radiant with beauty. From the shell that lies buried in the depths of
+the ocean, to the twinkling star that floats in the more profound depths
+of the firmament--through all the forms of material and animated
+existence, beauty, beauty, beauty prevails! In the floral kingdom, it
+appears in an infinite variety--in an unstinted and even a richer
+profusion than in other departments of nature. While these contributions
+are thrown out so lavishly at our feet, and a taste for flowers seems
+almost an instinct of nature, and is one of the most innocent and
+refined sentiments which we can cultivate, let us indulge and gratify it
+to the utmost extent, whenever leisure, opportunity, and fortune give us
+the means. There is no danger of an excess, under those reasonable
+restrictions which all our sentiments demand.
+
+"But," says some cynical objector, "flowers are only to please the eye."
+And why should not the eye be pleased? What sense may be more innocently
+gratified? They are among the most simple and cheapest luxuries in which
+we ever indulge.
+
+The taste for flowers--every where increasing among us--is an omen of
+good. Let us adorn our parlors, door-ways, yards, and road-sides with
+trees, and shrubs, and flowers. What a delight do they give to the
+passer-by! What favorable impressions do they, at once, excite towards
+those who cultivate them for their own gratification, and find, after
+all, their chief pleasure in the gratification which they afford to
+others! What an affecting charm--associated as it is with some of the
+best sentiments of our nature--do they give to the sad dwelling-places
+of the departed and beloved!
+
+
+
+
+TIME.
+
+
+      "I saw the leaves gliding down a brook;
+        Swift the brook ran, and bright the sun burned:
+      The sere and the verdant, the same course they took--
+        And sped gayly and fast--but they never returned.
+    And I thought how the years of a man pass away--
+    Threescore and ten--and then where are they?"
+
+
+"Threescore years and ten," thought I to myself, as I walked, one rainy
+morning, as a sailor walks the quarter-deck, up and down a short alcove,
+extending before the windows of a modern house. It was one of those days
+in June, in which our summer-hopes take umbrage at what we call
+unseasonable weather, though no season was ever known to pass without
+them. Unlike the rapid and delightful showers of warmer days, suddenly
+succeeding to the sunshine, when the parched vegetables and arid earth
+seize with avidity, and imbibe the moisture ere it becomes unpleasant to
+our feelings, there had fallen a drizzling rain throughout the night;
+the saturated soil returned to the atmosphere the humidity it could no
+longer absorb; and there it hung, in chilling thickness, between rain
+and fog. The birds did not sing, and the flowers did not open, for the
+cold drop was on their cheek, and no sunbeam was there to expand them.
+Nature itself wore the garb of sadness, and man's too dependent spirits
+were ready to assume it--those, at least, that were not so happy as to
+find means of forgetting it. Such was the case with my unfortunate self.
+
+I had descended to the breakfast-room, at the usual hour, but no one
+appeared; I looked for a book, but found none but an almanac. The books
+were kept in the library--beyond all dispute their proper place, had I
+not been in a humor to think otherwise. The house was too hot, and the
+external air was too cold; and I was fain to betake myself to that last
+resort of the absolutely idle--a mechanical movement of the body up and
+down a given space. And, from the alcove where I walked, I heard the
+ticking of the timepiece; and, as I passed the window, I saw the hands
+advance; every time I had returned, they had gone a little farther.
+"Threescore years and ten," said I to myself; "and a third or fourth of
+it is nature's claim for indispensable repose--and many a day consumed
+on the bed of sickness--and many a year by the infirmities of age--and
+some part of all necessarily sacrificed to the recruiting of the health
+by exercise. And what do we with the rest?" Nothing answered me but the
+ticking of the clock, of which the hands were traversing between eight
+and nine. They had nearly met, at the appointed hour, when the party
+began to assemble within; and each one commenced, for aught I could
+discover, the functions of the day, for neither their appearance nor
+their remarks gave any intimation that they had been previously
+employed. One, indeed, declared the weather made her so idle she had
+scarcely found strength to dress herself; another confessed he had
+passed an additional hour in bed, because the day promised him so little
+to do up. One by one, as they dropped in, the seats at the
+breakfast-table were filled; and, as a single newspaper was all the
+apparent means of mental occupation, I anticipated some interesting
+conversation.
+
+I waited and I watched. One ran the point of his fork into the
+table-cloth; another balanced her spoon on the tea-cup; a third told
+backwards and forwards the rings on her fingers, as duly as a friar
+tells his beads. As such actions sometimes are the symptoms of mental
+occupation, I began to anticipate the brilliant results of so much
+thinking. I cried, hem! in hopes to rouse them to expression--and not
+quite unsuccessfully: for one remarked, it was a wretched day; another
+wished it was fine; and a third hoped it shortly would be so. Meantime,
+the index of the clock went round; it was gaining close upon ten before
+all had withdrawn from the table. My eye followed one to the
+window-place; where, with her back to the wall, and her eyes fixed
+without, she passed a full half hour in gazing at the prospect without,
+or wishing, perhaps, the mist did not prevent her seeing it. A very
+young lady was so busy in pulling the dead leaves from a geranium, and
+crumbling them in her fingers, I could not doubt but some important
+purpose was in the task. A third resumed the newspaper he had read for a
+whole hour before, and betook himself, at last, to the advertisements. A
+fourth repaired to the alcove, gathered some flowers, picked them to
+pieces, threw them away again, and returned. "Cease thy prating, thou
+never-resting time-piece!" said I to myself, "for no one heeds thy tale.
+What is it to us that each one of thy tickings cuts a link from our
+brief chain of life? Time is the gift of Heaven, but man has no use for
+it!"
+
+I had scarcely thought out the melancholy reflection, when a young lady
+entered with an elegant work-box, red without and blue within, and
+filled with manifold conveniences for the pursuance of her art. Glad was
+I most truly at the sight. By the use of the needle, the naked may be
+clothed; ingenuity may economize her means, and have more to spare for
+those who need it; invention may multiply the ways of honest
+subsistence, and direct the ignorant to the use of them. Most glad was
+I, therefore, that the signal of industry drew more than one wanderer to
+the same pursuit, though not till much time had been consumed in going
+in and out, and up and down, in search of the materials. All were found
+at last; the party worked, and I, as usual, listened. "I think this
+trimming," said one, "will repay me for my trouble, though it has cost
+me three months' work already, and it will be three months more before
+it is finished." "Indeed!" rejoined her friend; "I wish I were half as
+industrious; but I have been working six weeks at this handkerchief, and
+have not had time to finish it: now the fashion is passed, and I shall
+not go on." "How beautifully you are weaving that necklace! Is it not
+very tedious?" "Yes, almost endless; but I delight in the work,
+otherwise I should not do it, for the beads cost almost as much as I
+could buy it for." "I should like to begin one this morning," interposed
+a fourth, "but the milliner has sent home my bonnet so ill-trimmed, it
+will take me all the day to alter it: the bow is on the wrong side, and
+the trimming on the edge is too broad. It is very tiresome to spend all
+one's life in altering things we pay so much for." "I wish," said a
+little girl at the end of the table, "that I might work some trimmings
+for my frock, but I am obliged to do this plain work first. The poor
+lame girl in the village, who is almost starving, would do it for me for
+a shilling, but I must save my allowance this week to buy a French
+trinket I have taken a fancy to." "Poor thing! she is much to be
+pitied," said the lady of the trimming; "if I had time, I would make her
+some clothes."
+
+And so they worked, and so they talked, till I and the time-piece had
+counted many an hour which they took no account of, when one of them
+yawned, and said, "How tedious are these wet days; it is really
+impossible to spin out one's time without a walk." "I am surprised you
+find it so," rejoined the lady of the beads; "I can rarely take time
+for walking, though keeping the house makes me miserably languid."
+
+And so the morning passed. It was nearly two o'clock, and the company
+dispersed to their apartments. I pretend not to know what they did
+there; but each one returned between three and four in an altered dress.
+And then half an hour elapsed, in which, as I understood from their
+impatience, they were waiting for dinner; each in turn complaining of
+the waste of time occasioned by its delay, and the little use it would
+be to go about any thing when it was so near. And as soon as dinner was
+over, they began to wait for tea with exactly the same complainings. And
+the tea came, and, cheered by the vivifying draught, one did repair to
+the instrument, and began a tune; one did take up a pencil, and prepare
+to draw; and one almost opened a book. But, alas! the shades of night
+were growing fast:--ten minutes had scarcely elapsed, before each one
+resigned her occupation, with a murmur at the darkness of the weather;
+and, though some persons suggested that there were such things as lamps
+and candles, it was agreed to be a pity to have lights so early in the
+midst of summer, and so another half hour escaped.
+
+The lights, when they came, would have failed to relumine an expectation
+in my bosom, had not their beams disclosed the forms of various books,
+which one and another had brought in for the evening's amusement. Again
+I watched and again I listened. "I wish I had something to do, mamma,"
+said the little girl. "Why do you not take a book, and read?" rejoined
+her mother. "My books are all up stairs," she replied; "and it is so
+near bedtime, it is not worth while to bring them down." "This is the
+best novel I ever read," said a lady, somewhat older, turning the leaves
+over so very fast, that those who are not used to this manner of
+reading, might suppose she found nothing in it worthy of attention. "I
+dare say it is," said another, whose eyes had been fixed for half an
+hour on the same page of Wordsworth's Poems; "but I have no time to read
+novels." "I wish I had time to read any thing," said a third, whom I had
+observed already to have been perusing attentively the title-page of
+every book on the table, publisher's name, date, and all; while a fourth
+was too intensely engaged in studying the blue cover of a magazine, to
+make any remark whatever.
+
+And now I was much amused to perceive with what frequency eyes were
+turned upon the dial-plate, through all the day so little regarded.
+Watches were drawn out, compared, and pronounced too slow. With some
+difficulty, one was found that had outrun its fellows, and, determined
+to be right, gave permission to the company to disperse, little more
+than twelve hours from the time of their assembling, to recover, as I
+supposed, during the other twelve, dressing and undressing included, the
+effect of their mental and bodily exertions.
+
+"So!" I exclaimed, as soon as I found myself alone, "twelve times round
+yonder dial-plate those little hands have stolen, and twelve times more
+they may now go round unheeded. They who are gone to rest, have a day
+less to live, and record has been made in heaven of that day's use. Will
+He who gave, ask no reckoning for his gifts? The time, the thoughts, the
+talents; the improvement we might have made, and made not; the good we
+might have done, and did not; the health, and strength, and intellect,
+that may not be our's to-morrow, and have not been used to-day; will not
+conscience whisper of it ere they sleep to-night? The days of man were
+shortened upon earth by reason of the wickedness the Creator saw.
+Threescore years and ten are now his portion, and often not half the
+number. They pause not; they loiter not: the hours strike on, and they
+may even go, for it seems they are all too much."
+
+The young, with minds as yet unstored, full of error, full of ignorance
+in all that it behooves them most to know, unfit alike as yet for earth
+or heaven--the old, whose sum of life is almost told, and but a brief
+space remaining to repair their mistakes and redeem the time they have
+lost--the simple and ungifted, who, having from nature but little, need
+the more assiduity to fulfill their measure of usefulness, and make that
+little do the most it may--the clever and highly talented, who have an
+almost appalling account to render for the much received--they all have
+time to waste. But let them remember, time is not their own; not a
+moment of it; but is the grant of Heaven; and Heaven gives nothing
+without a purpose and an end. Every hour that is wasted, fails of that
+purpose; and in so far as it is wasted or ill-spent, the gift of Heaven
+is misused, and the misuse is to be answered for. Methinks I would be
+allowed to whisper nightly in the ears of my young friends as they lie
+down to rest, "How many minutes have you lost to-day, that might have
+been employed in your own improvement, in our Maker's service, or for
+your fellow-creature's good?"
+
+
+
+
+NOVEL-READING.
+
+
+Novel-reading produces a morbid appetite for excitement. The object of
+the novelist, generally, is to produce the highest possible degree of
+excitement, both of the mind and the passions. The object is very
+similar to that of intoxicating liquors on the body: hence, the
+confirmed novel-reader becomes a kind of _literary inebriate_, to whom
+the things of _entity_ have no attractions, and whose thirst cannot be
+slaked, even with the water of life. And as intoxication enfeebles the
+body, and engenders indolent habits, so this unnatural stimulus
+enfeebles the intellectual powers, induces mental indolence, and unfits
+the mind for vigorous efforts. Nothing less stimulating than its
+accustomed aliment can rouse such a mind to action, or call forth its
+energies; and then, being under the influence of mental intoxication,
+which dethrones reason and destroys the power of self-control, they are
+always misdirected.
+
+It also promotes a sickly sensibility. Dr. Brigham, speaking of the too
+powerful excitement of the female mind, says: "In them the nervous system
+naturally predominates. They are endowed with quicker sensibility and
+far more active imagination than men. Their emotions are more intense,
+and their senses alive to more delicate impressions. They therefore
+require great attention, lest this exquisite sensibility--which, when
+properly and naturally developed, constitutes the greatest excellence of
+woman--should either become excessive by too strong excitement, or
+suppressed by misdirected education." Novel-reading produces just the
+kind of excitement calculated to develop this excessive and diseased
+sensibility; and the effect is, to fill the mind with imaginary fears,
+and produce excessive alarm and agitation at the prospect of danger, the
+sight of distress, or the presence of unpleasant objects; while no place
+is found for the exercise of genuine sympathy for real objects of
+compassion. That sensibility which weeps over imaginary woes of imaginary
+beings, calls forth but imaginary sympathy. It is too refined to be
+excited by the _vulgar_ objects of compassion presented in real life, or
+too excitable to be of any avail in the relief of real distress. It may
+faint at the sight of blood, but it will shrink back from binding up the
+wound. If you wish to become weak-headed, nervous, and good for nothing,
+read novels. I have seen an account of a young lady, who had become so
+nervous and excitable, in consequence of reading novels, that her head
+would be turned by the least appearance of danger, real or imaginary. As
+she was riding in a carriage over a bridge, in company with her mother
+and sister, she became frightened at some fancied danger, caught hold of
+the reins, and backed the carriage off the bridge, down a precipice,
+dashing them to pieces.
+
+This excessive sensibility renders its possessor exquisitely alive to
+all those influences which are unfriendly to human happiness, while it
+diminishes the power of endurance. Extreme sensibility, especially in a
+female, is a great misfortune, rendering the ills of life insupportable.
+Great care should therefore be taken that, while genuine sensibility is
+cherished, its extremes should be avoided, and the mind fortified by
+strengthening the higher powers.
+
+Novel-reading strengthens the passions, weakens the virtues, and
+diminishes the power of self-control. Multitudes may date their ruin
+from the commencement of this kind of reading; and many more, who have
+been rescued from the snare, will regret, to the end of their days, its
+influence in the early formation of their character.
+
+It is, too, a great waste of time. Few will pretend that they read
+novels with any higher end in view than _mere amusement_; while, by the
+strong excitement they produce, they impose a heavier tax on both mind
+and body than any other species of mental effort. If any thing valuable
+is to be derived from them, it can be obtained with far less expense of
+time, and with safety to the morals, from other sources. No Christian,
+who feels the obligation of "redeeming the time, because the days are
+evil," will fail to feel the force of this remark. We have no more right
+to squander our time and waste our energies in frivolous pursuits, than
+we have to waste our money in extravagant expenditures. We are as much
+the stewards of God in respect to the one as the other.
+
+
+
+
+FEMALE ROMANCE.
+
+
+Most women are inclined to be romantic. This tendency is not confined to
+the young or to the beautiful, to the intellectual or to the refined.
+Every woman, capable of strong feeling, is susceptible of romance; and,
+though its degree may depend on external circumstances, or education, or
+station, or excitement, it generally exists, and requires only a
+stimulus for its development.
+
+Romance indeed contributes much to the charm of the female character.
+Without some degree of it, no woman can be interesting; and, though its
+excess is a weakness, and one which receives but little indulgence,
+there is nothing truly generous and disinterested which does not imply
+its existence. It is that poetry of sentiment which imparts to character
+or incident something of the beautiful or the sublime; which elevates us
+to a higher sphere; which gives an ardor to affection, a life to
+thought, a glow to imagination; and which lends so warm and sunny a hue
+to the portraiture of life, that it ceases to appear the vulgar, and
+cold, and dull, and monotonous reality, which common sense alone would
+make it.
+
+But it is this opposition, between romance and sobriety, that excites
+so strong a prejudice against the former: it is associated, in the minds
+of many, with folly alone. A romantic, silly girl, is the object of
+their contempt; and they so recoil from this personification of
+sentiment, that their chief object seems to be to divest themselves
+altogether of its delusion. Life is to them a mere calculation;
+expediency is their maxim; propriety their rule; profit, ease, or
+comfort their aim; and they have at least this advantage, that while
+minds of higher tone and hearts of superior sensibility are often
+harassed and wounded, and even withered, in their passage through life,
+they proceed in their less adventurous career, neither chilled by the
+coldness, nor sickened by the meanness, nor disappointed by the
+selfishness of the world. They virtually admit, though they often
+theoretically deny, the baseness of human nature; and, strangers to
+disinterestedness themselves, they do not expect to meet with it in
+others. They are content with a low degree of enjoyment, and are thus
+exempted from much poignant suffering; and it is only when the
+casualties of life interfere with their individual ease, that we can
+perceive that they are not altogether insensible.
+
+A good deal of this phlegmatic disposition exists in many who are
+capable of higher feeling. Such persons are so afraid of sensibility,
+that they repress in themselves every thing that savors of it; and,
+though we may occasionally detect it in the mounting flush, or in the
+glistening tear, or in the half-stifled sigh, it is in vain that we
+endeavor to elicit any more explicit avowal. They are ashamed even of
+what they do betray; and one would imagine that the imputation of
+sensibility were almost a reflection on their character. They must not
+feel, or, at least, they must not allow that they feel; for feeling has
+led so many persons wrong, that decorum can be preserved, they think,
+only by indifference. And they end in being really as callous as they
+wish to appear, and stifle emotion so successfully, that at length it
+ceases to give them uneasiness.
+
+Such is often the case with many who pass through life with great
+decorum; and though women have naturally more sensibility than the other
+sex, they, too, sometimes consider its indulgence altogether wrong. Yet,
+if its excess is foolish, it is surely a mistake to attempt to suppress
+it altogether; for such attempt will either produce a dangerous
+revulsion, or, if successful, will spoil the character. One would rather
+almost that a woman were ever so romantic, than that she always thought,
+and felt, and spoke by rule; and should deem it preferable that her
+sensibility brought upon her occasional distress, than that she always
+calculated the degree of her feeling.
+
+Life has its romance, and to this it owes much of its charm. It is not
+that every woman is a heroine and every individual history a novel; but
+there are scenes and incidents in real life so peculiar, and so poetic,
+that we need not be indebted to fiction for the development of romance.
+Christians will trace such scenes and incidents immediately to
+Providence, and they do so with affectionate and confiding hearts; and
+the more affecting or remarkable these may be, the more clearly do they
+recognize the Divine interference. They regard them as remembrances of
+Heaven, to recall to them their connection with it, and remind them that
+whatever there may be to interest or excite their feelings here, there
+is infinitely more to affect and warm their hearts in the glorious
+prospects beyond.
+
+It is natural that women should be very susceptible to such impressions;
+that they should view life with almost a poetic eye; and that they
+should be peculiarly sensitive to its vicissitudes. And though a
+Quixotic quest after adventures is as silly as it is vain, and to invest
+every trifle with importance, or to see something marvelous in every
+incident, is equally absurd; there is no reason why the imagination
+should not grasp whatever is picturesque, and the mind dwell upon
+whatever is impressive, and the heart warm with whatever is affecting,
+in the changes and the chances of our pilgrimage. There is indeed a
+great deal of what is mean and low in all that is connected with this
+world; quite enough to sully the most glowing picture; but let us
+sometimes view life with its golden tints; let us sometimes taste its
+ambrosial dews; let us sometimes breathe its more ethereal atmosphere;
+and let us do so, not as satisfied with any thing it can afford--not as
+entranced by any of its illusions--but as those who catch, even in this
+dull mirror, a shadowy delineation of a brighter world, and who pant
+for what is pure, celestial, and eternal. This is surely better than
+clipping the wings of imagination, or restraining the impulses of
+feeling, or reducing all our joys and sorrows to mere matters of
+calculation or of sense.
+
+They are indeed to be pitied who are in the opposite extreme--whose
+happiness or misery is entirely ideal; but we have within us such a
+capacity for both, independent of all outward circumstances, and such a
+power of extracting either from every circumstance, that it is surely
+more wise to discipline such a faculty, than to disallow its influence.
+
+Youth is of course the season for romance. Its buoyant spirit must soar
+till weighed down by earthly care. It is in youth that the feelings are
+warm and the fancy fresh, and that there has been no blight to chill the
+one or to wither the other. And it is in youth that hope lends its
+cheering ray, and love its genial influence; that our friends smile upon
+us, our companions do not cross us, and our parents are still at hand to
+cherish us in their bosoms, and sympathize in all our young and ardent
+feelings. It is then that the world seems so fair, and our fellow-beings
+so kind, that we charge with spleen any who would prepare us for
+disappointment, and accuse those of misanthropy who would warn our
+too-confiding hearts. And though, in maturer life, we may smile at the
+romance of youth, and lament, perhaps, its aberrations, yet we shall not
+regret the depth of our young emotions, the disinterestedness of our
+young affections, and that enthusiasm of purpose, which, alas! we soon
+grow too wise to cherish.
+
+
+
+
+BEHAVIOR TO GENTLEMEN.
+
+
+What a pity it is that the thousandth chance of a gentleman's becoming
+your lover should deprive you of the pleasure of a free, unembarrassed,
+intellectual intercourse with all the single men of your acquaintance!
+Yet, such is too commonly the case with young ladies who have read a
+great many novels and romances, and whose heads are always running on
+love and lovers.
+
+Where, as in this country, there is a fair chance of every woman's being
+married who wishes it, the more things are left to their natural course
+the better. Where girls are brought up to be good daughters and sisters,
+to consider the development of their own intellectual and moral natures
+as the great business of life, and to view matrimony as a good, only
+when it comes unsought, and marked by such a fitness of things, inward
+and outward, as shows it to be one of the appointments of God, they will
+fully enjoy their years of single life, free from all anxiety about
+being established, and will generally be the first sought in marriage by
+the wise and good of the other sex; whereas those who are brought up to
+think the great business of life is to get married, and who spend their
+lives in plans and manoeuvres to bring it about, are the very ones
+who remain single, or, what is worse, make unhappy matches.
+
+Very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older
+ones, that there is some peculiar manner to be put on in talking to
+gentlemen, and not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and
+reserved; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in
+this intercourse, and try to imitate them as a necessary part of company
+behavior, and so become affected, and lose that first of
+charms--simplicity, naturalness. To such I would say, your companions
+are in error; it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in
+order to converse with gentlemen any more than with ladies; and the more
+pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated your
+intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly with
+all. If, however, you happen to have no facility in expressing yourself,
+and you find it very difficult to converse with persons whom you do not
+know well, you can still be an intelligent and agreeable listener, and
+you can show by your ready smile of sympathy that you would be sociable
+if you could. There is no reason in the world why any one, who is not
+unhappy, should sit in the midst of gay companions with a face so solemn
+and unmoved, that she should seem not to belong to the company; that she
+should look so glum and forbidding that strangers should feel repulsed,
+and her best friends disappointed. If you cannot look entertained and
+pleasant, you had better stay away, for politeness requires some
+expression of sympathy in the countenance, as much as a civil answer on
+the tongue.
+
+Never condescend to use any little arts or manoeuvres to secure a
+pleasant beau at a party, or during an excursion; remember that a woman
+must always wait to be chosen, and "not unsought be won," even for an
+hour. When you are so fortunate as to be attended by the most agreeable
+gentleman present, do not make any effort to keep him entirely to
+yourself; that flatters him too much, and exposes you to be joked about.
+
+How strange a thing it is, in the constitution of English and American
+society, that the subject, of all others the most important and the most
+delicate, should be that on which every body is most given to joke and
+banter their friends! Much mischief has been done by this coarse
+interference of the world, in what ought to be the most private and
+sacred of our earthly concerns; and every refined, delicate, and
+high-minded girl should set her face against it, and, by scrupulously
+refraining from such jokes herself, give no one a right to indulge in
+them at her expense.
+
+As soon as young ladies go into general society, they are liable to
+receive attentions that indicate a particular regard, and, long before
+they are really old enough to form any such ties, they often receive
+matrimonial overtures; it is therefore highly necessary to know how to
+treat them. The offer of a man's heart and hand is the greatest
+compliment he can pay you, and, however undesirable to you those gifts
+may be, they should be courteously and kindly declined; and since a
+refusal is, to most men, not only a disappointment, but a mortification,
+it should always be prevented, if possible. Men have various ways of
+cherishing and declaring their attachment; those who indicate the bias
+of their feelings in many intelligible ways, before they make a direct
+offer, can generally be spared the pain of a refusal. If you do not mean
+to accept a gentleman who is paying you very marked attentions, you
+should avoid receiving him whenever you can; you should not allow him to
+escort you; you should show your displeasure when joked about him; and,
+if sounded by a mutual friend, let your want of reciprocal feelings be
+very apparent.
+
+You may, however, be taken entirely by surprise, because there are men
+who are so secret in these matters that they do not let even the object
+of their affections suspect their preference, until they suddenly
+declare themselves lovers and suitors. In such a case as that, you will
+need all your presence of mind, or the hesitation produced by surprise
+may give rise to false hopes. If you have any doubt upon the matter, you
+may fairly ask time to consider of it, on the grounds of your never
+having thought of the gentleman in the light of a lover before; but, if
+you are resolved against the suit, endeavor to make your answer so
+decided as to finish the affair at once. Inexperienced girls sometimes
+feel so much the pain they are inflicting, that they use phrases which
+feed a lover's hopes; but this is mistaken tenderness; your answer
+should be as decided as it is courteous.
+
+Whenever an offer is made in writing, you should reply to it as soon as
+possible; and, having in this case none of the embarrassment of a
+personal interview, you can make such a careful selection of words as
+will best convey your meaning. If the person is estimable, you should
+express your sense of his merit, and your gratitude for his preference,
+in strong terms; and put your refusal of his hand on the score of your
+not feeling for him that peculiar preference necessary to the union he
+seeks. This makes a refusal as little painful as possible, and soothes
+the feelings you are obliged to wound. The gentleman's letter should be
+returned in your reply, and your lips should be closed upon the subject
+for ever afterwards. It is his secret, and you have no right to tell it
+to any one; but, if your parents are your confidential friends on all
+other occasions, he will not blame you for telling them.
+
+Never think the less of a man because he has been refused, even if it be
+by a lady whom you do not highly value. It is nothing to his
+disadvantage. In exercising their prerogative of making the first
+advances, the wisest will occasionally make great mistakes, and the best
+will often be drawn into an affair of this sort against their better
+judgment, and both are but too happy if they escape with only the pain
+of being refused. So far from its being any reason for not accepting a
+wise and good man when he offers himself to you, it should only
+increase your thankfulness to the overruling providence of God, which
+reserved him for you, through whose instrumentality he is still free to
+choose.
+
+There is no sure remedy for disappointed affection but vital religion;
+that giving of the heart to God which enables a disciple to say, "Whom
+have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none on earth that I desire in
+comparison of Thee." The cure for a wounded heart, which piety affords,
+is so complete, that it makes it possible for the tenderest and most
+constant natures to love again. When a character is thus disciplined and
+matured, its sympathies will be called forth only by superior minds;
+and, if a kindred spirit presents itself as a partner for life, and is
+accepted, the union is likely to be such as to make the lady rejoice
+that her former predilection was overruled.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIAGE.
+
+
+Some young persons indulge a fastidiousness of feeling in relation to
+this subject, as though it were indelicate to speak of it. Others make
+it the principal subject of their thoughts and conversation; yet they
+seem to think it must never be mentioned but in jest. Both these
+extremes should be avoided. Marriage is an ordinance of God, and
+therefore a proper subject of thought and discussion, with reference to
+personal duty. It is a matter of great importance, having a direct
+bearing upon the glory of God and the happiness of individuals. It
+should, therefore, never be approached with levity. But, as it requires
+no more attention than what is necessary in order to understand present
+duty, it would be foolish to make it a subject of constant thought, and
+silly to make it a common topic of conversation. It is a matter which
+should be weighed deliberately and seriously by every young person. It
+was ordained by the Lord at the creation, as suited to the state of man
+as a social being, and necessary to the design for which he was created.
+There is a sweetness and comfort in the bosom of one's own family which
+can be enjoyed no where else. In early life this is supplied by our
+youthful companions, who feel in unison with us. But as a person who
+remains single, advances in life, the friends of his youth form new
+attachments, in which he is incapable of participating. Their feelings
+undergo a change, of which he knows nothing. He is gradually left alone.
+No heart beats in unison with his own. His social feelings wither for
+want of an object. As he feels not in unison with those around him, his
+habits also become peculiar, and perhaps repulsive, so that his company
+is not desired; hence arises the whimsical attachments of such persons
+to domestic animals, or to other objects that can be enjoyed in
+solitude. As the dreary winter of age advances, the solitude of this
+condition becomes still more chilling. Nothing but that sweet
+resignation to the will of God, which religion gives, under all
+circumstances, can render such a situation tolerable. But religion does
+not annihilate the social affections; it only regulates them. It is
+evident, then, by a lawful and proper exercise of these affections, both
+our happiness and usefulness may be greatly increased.
+
+On the other hand, do not consider marriage as _absolutely essential_.
+Although it is an ordinance of God, yet he has not absolutely enjoined
+it upon all. You _may_, therefore, be in the way of duty while
+neglecting it. And the apostle Paul intimates that there may be, with
+those who enter this state, a greater tendency of heart toward earthly
+objects. There is also an increase of care. "The unmarried woman careth
+for the things of the Lord, that she may be holy, both in body and
+spirit; but she that is married, careth for the things of the world,
+how she may please her husband." But much more has been made of this
+than the apostle intended. It has been greatly perverted and abused by
+the church of Rome. It must be observed that, in the same chapter, he
+advises that "every man have his own wife and every woman her own
+husband." And, whatever may be our condition in life, if we seek it with
+earnestness and perseverance, God will give us grace sufficient for the
+day. But, he says, though it is no sin to marry, nevertheless, "such
+shall have trouble in the flesh." It is undoubtedly true that the
+enjoyments of conjugal life have their corresponding difficulties and
+trials; and if these are enhanced by an unhappy connection, the
+situation is insufferable. For this reason, I would have you avoid the
+conclusion that marriage is indispensable to happiness. Single life is
+certainly to be preferred to a connection with a person who will
+diminish instead of increase your happiness. However, the remark of the
+apostle, "such shall have trouble in the flesh," doubtless had reference
+chiefly to the peculiar troubles of the times, when Christians were
+exposed to persecutions, the loss of goods, and even of life itself, for
+Christ's sake; the trials of which would be much greater in married than
+in single life.
+
+
+
+
+MARRIAGE HYMN.
+
+
+    Not for the summer hour alone,
+      When skies resplendent shine,
+    And youth and pleasure fill the throne,
+      Our hearts and hands we join;
+
+    But for those stern and wintry days
+      Of sorrow, pain, and fear,
+    When Heaven's wise discipline doth make
+      Our earthly journey drear.
+
+    Not for this span of life alone,
+      Which like a blast doth fly,
+    And, as the transient flower of grass,
+      Just blossom--droop, and die;
+
+    But for a being without end,
+      This vow of love we take;
+    Grant us, O God! one home at last,
+      For our Redeemer's sake.
+
+
+
+
+FEMALE INFLUENCE.
+
+
+Writers of fiction have not unfrequently selected this topic as the
+theme for poetry and romance; they have extolled woman as the being
+whose eloquence was to soften all the asperities of man, and polish the
+naturally rugged surface of his character; charming away his sternness
+by her grace; refining his coarseness by her elegance and purity; and
+offering in her smiles a reward sufficient to compensate for the hazards
+of any enterprise. But while the self-complacency and vanity of many of
+our sex have been nourished by such idle praise, how few have been
+awakened to a just sense of the deep responsibility which rests upon us,
+for the faithful improvement of this talent, and our consequent
+accountability for its neglect or perversion!
+
+It were not a little amusing, if it were not so melancholy, to listen to
+the reasoning employed by many ladies, in evading any charges of
+non-improvement of this trust. She who perhaps but a moment before may
+have listened with the utmost self-complacency to the flattering strains
+of the poet, who had invested her sex with every charm calculated to
+render them ministering angels to ruder and sterner man, no sooner finds
+herself addressed as the possessor of a talent, implying
+responsibility, and imposing self-exertion and self-denial in its
+exercise, than she instantly disclaims, with capricious diffidence, all
+pretensions to influence over others. But we cannot avert accountability
+by disclaiming its existence; neither will the disavowal of the
+possession of a talent alter the constitution of our nature, which God
+has so formed and so fitted to produce impressions in, and receive them
+from, kindred minds, that it is impossible for us to _exist_ without
+exerting a continual and daily influence over others; either of a
+pernicious or salutary character.
+
+"Woman," to use the words of an accomplished living writer, "has been
+sent on a higher mission than man; it may be a more arduous, a more
+difficult one. It is to manifest and bring to a full development certain
+attributes which belong, it is true, to our common nature, but which,
+owing to man's peculiar relation to the external world, he could not so
+well bring to perfection. Man is sent forth to subdue the earth, to
+obtain command over the elements, to form political communities; and to
+him, therefore, belong the more hardy and austere virtues; and as they
+are made subservient to the relief of our physical wants, and as their
+results are more obvious to the senses, it is not surprising that they
+have acquired in his eyes an importance which does not in strictness
+belong to them. But humility, meekness, gentleness, love, are also
+important attributes of our nature, and it would present a sad and
+melancholy aspect without them. But let us ask, will man, with his
+present characteristic propensities, thrown much more than woman, by his
+immediate duties, upon material things; obliged to be conversant with
+objects of sense, and exposed to the rude conflicts which this leads to;
+will he bring out these virtues in their _full_ beauty and strength? We
+think not--even with the assistance which religion promises. These
+principles, with many others linked with them, have been placed more
+particularly in the keeping of woman; her social condition being
+evidently more favorable to their full development."
+
+Let us ever remember that every aggregate number, however great, is
+composed of units; and of course, were _each_ American female but
+faithful to her God, to her family, and to her country, then would a
+mighty, sanctified influence go forth through the wide extent of our
+beloved land, diffusing moral health and vigor through every part, and
+strengthening it for the endurance of greater trials than have as yet
+menaced its existence. A spirit of insubordination and rebellion to
+lawful authority pervades our land; and where are these foes effectually
+to be checked, if not at their fountain head--in the nursery? Oh! if
+every American mother had but labored faithfully in that sacred
+inclosure, from the period of our revolutionary struggle, by teaching
+her children the great lesson of practical obedience to parental
+authority; then would submission to constituted authority, as well as to
+the will of God, have been far more prevalent in our land, and the
+whole aspect of her affairs would have been widely different.
+
+How much more honorable to woman is such a position, than that in which
+some modern reformers have endeavored to place her, or rather _force_
+her. Instead of seeking hopelessly, and in direct opposition to the
+delicacy of her sex, to obtain for her political privileges; instead of
+bringing her forward as the competitor of man in the public arena; we
+would mark out for her a sphere of duty that is widely different. In the
+domestic circle, "her station should be at man's side, to comfort, to
+encourage, to assist;" while, in the Christian temple, we would assign
+her an ennobling, but a feminine part,--to be the guardian of the sacred
+and spiritual fire, which is ever to be kept alive in its purity and
+brilliancy on the altar of God. She should be the vestal virgin in the
+Christian temple--the priestess, as it were, of a shrine more hallowed
+and honorable than that of Delphos.
+
+
+
+
+A DIFFICULT QUESTION.
+
+
+I remember, many years ago, to have occupied the corner of a
+window-seat, in a small but very elegant house in Montague-square,
+during a morning visit--more interesting than such visits usually are,
+because there was something to talk about. The ladies who met, had each
+a child, I believe an only girl, just of the age when mothers begin to
+ask every body, and tell every body, how their children are to be
+educated. The daughter of the house, the little Jemima, was sitting by
+my side; a delicate little creature, with something very remarkable in
+her expression. The broad projecting brow seemed too heavy for its
+underwork; and by its depression, gave a look of sadness to the
+countenance, till excited animation raised the eye, beaming vivacity and
+strength. The sallow paleness of the complexion was so entirely in
+unison with the features, and the stiff dark locks which surrounded
+them, it was difficult to say whether it was, or was not, improved by
+the color that came and went every time she was looked at or spoken of.
+I was, on this occasion, a very attentive listener: for, being not yet a
+woman, it was very essential to me to learn what sort of a one I had
+better be; and many, indeed, were my counter-resolutions, as the
+following debate proceeded:
+
+"You are going to send your daughter to school I hear?" said Mrs. A.,
+after some discourse of other matters.
+
+Mrs. W. replied, "Really, I have not quite determined; I scarcely know
+what to do for the best. I am only anxious that she should grow up like
+other girls; for of all things in the world, I have the greatest horror
+of a woman of talent. I had never thought to part from her, and am still
+averse to sending her from home; but she is so excessively fond of
+books, I can get her to do nothing else but learn; she is as grave and
+sensible as a little woman. I think, if she were among other girls, she
+would perhaps get fond of play, and be more like a child. I wish her to
+grow up a quiet, domestic girl, and not too fond of learning. I mean her
+to be accomplished; but, at present, I cannot make her distinguish one
+tune from another."
+
+Mrs. A. answered, "Indeed! we differ much in this respect. I am
+determined to make Fanny a superior woman, whatever it may cost me. Her
+father is of the same mind; he has a perfect horror of silly,
+empty-headed women; all our family are literary; Fanny will have little
+fortune, but we can afford to give her every advantage in her education,
+the best portion we can leave her. I would rather see her distinguished
+for talents, than for birth or riches. We have acted upon this intention
+from her birth. She already reads well, but I am sorry to say she hates
+it, and never will open a book unless she is obliged; she shows no taste
+for any thing but making doll's clothes and spinning a top."
+
+At this moment a hearty laugh from little Fanny, who had set herself to
+play behind the curtain, drew my attention towards her. She was twice as
+big as my companion on the window-seat, though but a few months older;
+her broad, flat face, showed like the moon in its zenith, set in thin,
+silky hair: and with eyes as pretty as they could be, expressing neither
+thought nor feeling, but abundance of mirth and good-humor. The coloring
+of her cheek was beautiful; but one wished it gone sometimes, were it
+only for the pleasure of seeing it come again. The increasing
+seriousness of the conversation recalled my attention.
+
+"I am surprised," Mrs. W. was saying, "at your wishes on the subject. I
+am persuaded a woman of great talent is neither so happy, so useful, nor
+so much beloved, as one or more ordinary powers."
+
+"I should like to know why you think this," rejoined her friend; "it
+appears to me she should be much more so."
+
+"My view of it is this," Mrs. W. replied: "a woman's sphere of
+usefulness, of happiness, and of affection, is a domestic circle; and
+even beyond it, all her task of life is to please and to be useful."
+
+"In this we are quite agreed," said Mrs. A.; "but, since we are well set
+for an argument, let us have a little method in it. You would have your
+child useful, happy, and beloved, and so would I; but you think the
+means to this end, is to leave her mind uncultivated, narrow, and empty,
+and consequently weak."
+
+"This, is not my meaning," replied Mrs. W.; "there are many steps
+between stupidity and talent, ignorance and learning. I will suppose my
+child what I wish her to be, about as much taught as women in general,
+who are esteemed clever, well-mannered, and well-accomplished. I think
+it is all that can contribute to her happiness. If her mind is occupied,
+as you will say, with little things, those little things are sufficient
+to its enjoyment, and much more likely to be within her reach than the
+greater matters that fill greater minds. My less accomplished character
+will enjoy herself where your superior woman would go to sleep, or
+hopelessly wish she might. In short, she will find fellowship and
+reciprocation in every little mind she meets with, while yours is left
+to pine in the solitude of her own greatness."
+
+At the close of this speech, I felt quite determined that I would not be
+such a woman.
+
+Mrs. A. rejoined, "You have left my genius in a doleful condition,
+though I question whether you will persuade her to come down. I will
+admit, however, for I am afraid I must, that the woman of talent is less
+likely to find reciprocation, or to receive enjoyment from ordinary
+people and ordinary circumstances; but then she is like the camel that
+traverses the desert safely where others perish, because it carries its
+sustenance in its own bosom. I never remember to have heard a really
+sensible and cultivated woman complain of _ennui_, under any
+circumstances--no small balance on the side of enjoyment positive, is
+misery escaped. But, to leave jesting, admitting that the woman of more
+elevated mind derives less pleasure from the adventitious circumstances
+that surround her, from what money can purchase, and a tranquil mind
+enjoy, and activity gather, of the passing flowers of life--she has
+enjoyments, independent of them, in the treasures of her own intellect.
+Where she finds reciprocation, it is a delight of which the measure
+compensates the rareness; and where she finds nothing else to enjoy, she
+can herself. And when the peopled walks of life become a wilderness; and
+the assiduities of friendship rest unclaimed; and sensible
+gratifications are withered before the blight of poverty; and the foot
+is too weary, and the eye is too dim, to go after what no one remembers
+to bring; still are her resources untouched. Poverty cannot diminish her
+revenue, or friendlessness leave her unaccompanied, or privation of
+every external incitement consign her to the void of unoccupied powers.
+She will traverse the desert, for her store is with her; and if, as you
+have suggested, she be doomed to supply others what no one pays her
+back, there is One who has said, 'It is more blessed to give than to
+receive.'"
+
+At this point of the discussion, I made up my mind to be a very sensible
+woman.
+
+Mrs. W. resumed: "You will allow, of course, that selfish enjoyment is
+not the object of existence; and I think, on the score of usefulness, I
+shall carry my poor, dependent house-wife, far above yours. And for this
+very reason: The duties which Providence has assigned to woman, do not
+require extraordinary intellect. She can manage her husband's household,
+and economize his substance; and if she cannot entertain his friends
+with her talents, she can at least give them a welcome; and be his nurse
+in sickness, and his watchful companion in health, if not capable of
+sharing his more intellectual occupations. She can be the support and
+comfort of her parents in the decline of life, or of her children in
+their helplessness, according as her situation may be. And out of her
+house she may be the benefactress and example of a whole neighborhood;
+she may comfort the afflicted, and clothe and feed the poor, and visit
+the sick, and advise the ignorant; while, by the domestic industry, and
+peaceful, unaspiring habits, with which she plods, as you may please to
+call it, through the duties of her station, whether higher or lower, she
+is a perpetual example to those beneath her, to like sober assiduity in
+their own, and to her children's children to follow in the path in which
+she leads them. She may be superintending the household occupations, or
+actually performing them; giving employment by her wealth to others'
+ingenuity, or supplying the want of it by her own, according as her
+station is, but still she will make many happy.
+
+"I am not so prejudiced as to say that your woman of talent will refuse
+these duties; of course, if she have principle, she will not. But
+literary pursuits must at least divide her attention, if not unfit her
+altogether for the tasks the order of Providence has assigned her; she
+will distaste such duties, if she does not refuse them; while the
+distance at which her attainments place her from ordinary minds, forbid
+all attempts to imitate or follow her."
+
+"You have drawn a picture," answered Mrs. A., "which would convert half
+the world, if they were not of your mind already, as I believe they are.
+It is a picture so beautiful, I would not blot it with the shadow of my
+finger. I concede that talent is not necessary to usefulness, and a
+woman may fulfill every duty of her station without it. But our question
+is of comparative usefulness; and there I have something to say. It is
+an axiom that knowledge is power; and, if it is, the greater the
+knowledge, the greater should be the power of doing good. To men,
+superior intelligence gives power to dispose, control, and govern the
+fortunes of others. To women, it gives influence over their minds. The
+greater knowledge which she has acquired of the human heart, gives her
+access to it in all its subtleties; while her acknowledged superiority
+secures that deference to her counsels, which weakness ever pays to
+strength.
+
+"If the circumstances of her condition require it, I believe the greater
+will suffice the less, and she will fulfill equally well the duties you
+have enumerated; shedding as bright a light upon her household, as if
+it bounded her horizon. Nay, more, there may be minds in her household
+that need the reciprocation of an equal mind, or the support of a
+superior one; there may be spirits in her family that will receive from
+the influence of intellect, what they would not from simple and good
+intention. There may be other wants in her neighborhood than hunger and
+nakedness, and other defaulters than the ignorant and the poor. Whether
+she writes, speaks, or acts, the effect is not bounded by time, nor
+limited by space. That is worth telling of her, and is repeated from
+mouth to mouth, which, in an ordinary person, none would notice. Her
+acknowledged superiority gives her a title, as well as a capacity to
+speak, where others must be silent, and carry counsel and consolation
+where commoner characters might not intrude.
+
+"The mass of human misery, and human need, and human corruption, is not
+confined to the poor, the simple minded, and the child. The husband's
+and the parent's cares are not confined to their external commodities,
+nor the children's to the well-being of their physical estate. The mind
+that could illumine its own solitude, can cheer another's destitution;
+the strength that can support itself, can stay another's falling; the
+wealth may be unlocked, and supply another's poverty. Those who in
+prosperity seek amusement from superior talent, will seek it in
+difficulty or advice, and in adversity for support."
+
+Here I made up my mind to have a great deal of intellect.
+
+"If I granted your position on the subject of utility," said Mrs. W., "I
+am afraid I should prove the world very ungrateful by the remainder of
+my argument; which goes, you know, to prove the woman of distinguished
+talent less beloved than those who walk the ordinary paths of female
+duty. I must take the risk, however; for, of all women in the world,
+your women of genius are those I love the least; and I believe, just or
+unjust, it is a very common feeling. We are not disposed to love our
+superiors in any thing; but least of all, in intellect; one has always
+the feeling of playing an equal game, without being sure that no
+advantage will be taken of your simplicity. A woman who has the
+reputation of talent, is, in this respect, the most unfortunate being on
+earth. She stands in society, like a European before a horde of savages,
+vainly endeavoring to signify his good intentions. If he approaches
+them, they run away; if he recedes, they send their arrows after him.
+Every one is afraid to address her, lest they expose to her penetration
+their own deficiencies. If she talks, she is supposed to display her
+powers; if she holds her tongue, it is attributed to contempt for the
+company. I know that talent is often combined with every amiable
+quality, and renders the character really the more lovely; but not
+therefore the more beloved. It would, if known; but it seldom is known,
+because seldom approached near enough to be examined.
+
+"The simple-minded fear what they do not understand; the double-minded
+envy what they cannot reach. For my good, simple housewife, every body
+loves her who knows her; and nobody, who does not know her, troubles
+themselves about her. But place a woman on an eminence, and every body
+thinks they are obliged to like or dislike her; and, being too tenacious
+to do the one without good reason, they do the other without any reason
+at all. Before we can love each other, there must be sympathy,
+assimilation, and, if not equality, at least such an approach to it as
+may enable us to understand each other. When any one is much superior to
+us, our humility shrinks from the proffers of her love, and our pride
+revolts from offering her our own. Real talent is always modest, and
+fears often to make advances towards affection, lest it should seem, in
+doing so, to presume upon itself; but, having rarely the credit of
+timidity, this caution is attributable to pride. Your superior woman,
+therefore, will not be generally known or beloved by her own sex, among
+whom she may have many admirers, but few equals.
+
+"I say nothing of marriage, because I am not speculating upon it for my
+child, as upon the chances of a well-played game; but it is certain that
+the greater number of men are not highly intellectual, and therefore
+could not wisely choose a highly intellectual wife, lest they place
+themselves in the condition in which a husband should not be--of mental
+inferiority."
+
+"Mrs. W.," answered her friend, "I am aware this is your strongest post;
+but I must not give ground without a battle. A great deal I shall yield
+you. I shall give up quantity, and stand upon the value of the
+remainder. Be it granted, then, that of any twenty people assembled in
+society, every one of whom will pronounce your common-place woman to be
+very amiable, very good, and very pleasing, ten shall pronounce my
+friend too intellectual for their taste, eight shall find her not so
+clever as they expected, and, of the other two, one at least shall not
+be sure whether they like her or not. Be it granted that, of every five
+ladies assembled to gossip freely, and tell out their small cares and
+feelings to the sympathizing kindness of your friend, four shall become
+silent as wax-work on the entrance of mine. And be it granted that, of
+any ten gentlemen to whom yours would be a very proper wife, not more
+than one could wisely propose himself to mine. But have I therefore lost
+the field? Perhaps she would tell you no; the two in twenty, the one in
+five or ten, are of more value, in her estimation, than all the number
+else.
+
+"Things are not apt to be valued by their abundance. On the jeweler's
+stall, many a brilliant trinket will disappear, ere the high-priced gem
+be asked for; but is it, therefore, the less valued, or the less cared
+for? When beloved at all, she is loved permanently; for, in the lapse of
+time, that withers the charm of beauty, and blights the simplicity of
+youth, her ornaments grow but the brighter for wearing. In proportion
+to the depth of the intellect, I believe, is the depth of every thing;
+feelings, affections, pleasures, pains, or whatever else the enlarged
+capacity conceives. It is difficult perhaps for an inferior mind to
+estimate what a superior mind enjoys in the reciprocation of affection.
+Attachment, with ordinary persons, is enjoyed to-day, and regretted
+to-morrow, and the next day replaced and forgotten; but with these it
+never can be forgotten, because it can never be replaced."
+
+As the argument, thus terminated, converted neither party, it is
+needless to say it left me in suspense. Mrs. W. was still determined her
+child should not be a superior woman. Mrs. A. was still resolved her
+child should be, at all ventures; and I was still undetermined whether I
+would endeavor to be a learned woman or not. The little Fanny laughed
+aloud, opened her large round eyes, and shouted, "So I will, mamma!" The
+little Jemima colored to the ends of her fingers, and lowered still
+farther the lashes that veiled her eyes.
+
+
+
+
+EASILY DECIDED.
+
+
+I was walking with some friends in a retired part of the country. It had
+rained for fourteen days before, and I believed it rained then; but
+there was a belief among the ladies of that country that it is better to
+walk in all weather. The lane was wide enough to pass in file, with
+chilly droppings from the boughs above, and rude re-action of the briers
+beneath. The clay upon our shoes showed a troublesome affinity to the
+clay upon the road. Umbrellas we could not hold up because of the wind.
+But it was better to walk than stay at home, so at least my companions
+assured me, for exercise and an appetite. After pursuing them, with
+hopeless assiduity, for more than a mile, without sight of egress or
+sign of termination, finding I had already enough of the one, and
+doubting how far the other might be off, I lagged behind, and began to
+think how I might amuse myself till their return.
+
+By one of those fortunate incidents, which they tell me never happen to
+any body but a listener, I heard the sound of voices over the hedge.
+This was delightful. In this occupation I forgot both mud and rain,
+exercise and appetite. The hedge was too thick to see through, and all
+that appeared above it was a low chimney, from which I concluded it
+concealed a cottage garden.
+
+"What in the name of wonder, James, can you be doing?" said a voice,
+significant of neither youth nor gentleness.
+
+"I war'nt ye know what I am about," said another, more rudely than
+unkindly.
+
+"I'm not sure of that," rejoined the first; "you've been hacking and
+hewing at them trees this four hours, and I do not see, for my part, as
+you're like to mend them."
+
+"Why, mother," said the lad, "you see we have but two trees in all the
+garden, and I've been thinking they'd match better if they were alike;
+so I've tied up to a pole the boughs of the gooseberry-bush, that used
+to spread themselves about the ground, to make it look more like this
+thorn; and now I'm going to cut down the thorn to make it look more like
+the gooseberry-bush."
+
+"And what's the good of that?" rejoined the mother; "has not the tree
+sheltered us many a stormy night, when the wind would have beaten the
+old casement about our ears? and many a scorching noon-tide, hasn't your
+father eaten his dinner in its shade? And now, to be sure, because you
+are the master, you think you can mend it!"
+
+"We shall see," said the youth, renewing his strokes. "It's no use as it
+is; I dare say you'd like to see it bear gooseberries."
+
+"No use!" exclaimed the mother; "don't the birds go to roost on the
+branches, and the poultry get shelter under it from the rain? and after
+all your cutting, I don't see as you're likely to turn a thorn-tree into
+a gooseberry-bush!"
+
+"I don't see why I should not," replied the sage artificer, with a tone
+of reflectiveness; "the leaf is near about the same, and there are
+thorns on both; if I make that taller and this shorter, and they grow
+the same shape, I don't suppose you know why one should bear
+gooseberries any more than the other, as wise as you are."
+
+"Why, to be sure, James," the old woman answered, in a moderate voice,
+"I can't say that I do; but I have lived almost through my threescore
+years and ten, and I have never heard of gooseberries growing on a
+thorn."
+
+"Haven't you, though?" said James; "but then I have, or something pretty
+much like it; for I saw the gardener, over yonder, cutting off the head
+of a young pear-tree, and he told me he was going to make it bear
+apples."
+
+"Well," said the mother, seemingly reconciled, "I know nothing of your
+new-fangled ways. I only know it was the finest thorn in the parish;
+but, to be sure, now they are more match-like and regular."
+
+I left a story half told. This may seem to be another, but it is in fact
+the same. James, in the Sussex-lane, and my friends in Montague-square,
+were engaged in the same task, and the result of the one would pretty
+fairly measure the successes of the other; both were contravening the
+order of nature, and pursuing their own purpose, without consulting the
+appointments of Providence.
+
+Fanny was a girl of common understanding; such indeed as suitable
+cultivation might have matured into simple good sense; but from which
+her parents' scheme of education could produce nothing but pretension
+that could not be supported, and an affectation of what could never be
+attained. Conscious of the want of all perceptible talent in her child,
+Mrs. A. from the first told the stories of talent opening late, and the
+untimely blighting of premature intellect; and, to the last, maintained
+the omnipotence of cultivation.
+
+On every new proof of the smallness of her mind, another science was
+added to enlarge it. Languages, dead and living, were to be to her the
+keys of knowledge; but they unlocked nothing to Fanny but their own
+grammars and vocabularies, which she learned assiduously, without so
+much as wondering what they meant. The more dull she proved, the more
+earnestly she was plied. She was sent to school to try the spur of
+emulation; and brought home again for the advantage of more exclusive
+attention. And, as still the progress lagged, all feminine employ and
+childlike recreations were prohibited, to gain more time for study. It
+cannot be said that Fannny's health was injured by the over action of
+her mind; for, having none, it could not be easily acted upon; but, by
+perpetual dronish application, and sacrifice of all external things for
+the furtherance of this scheme of mental cultivation, her physical
+energies were suppressed, and she became heavy, awkward, and inactive.
+
+Fanny had no pleasure in reading, but she had a pride in having read;
+and listened, with no small satisfaction, to her mother's detail of the
+authors she was conversant with; beyond her age, and, as some untalented
+ventured to suggest, not always suited to her years of innocence. The
+arcana of their pages were safe, however, and quite guiltless of her
+mind's corruption. Fanny never thought, whatever she might read; what
+was in the book, was nothing to her; all her business was to _have_ read
+it. Meantime, while the powers he had not were solicited in vain, the
+talents she had were neglected and suppressed. Her good-humored
+enjoyment of ordinary things, her real taste for domestic arrangement,
+and open simplicity of heart, were derided as vulgar and unintellectual.
+Her talent for music was thought not worth cultivating; time could not
+be spared. Some little capacity she had for drawing, as an imitative
+art, was baffled by the determination to teach it her scientifically,
+thus rendering it as impossible as every thing else. In short--for why
+need I prolong my sketch?--Fanny was prepared by nature to be the _beau
+ideal_ of Mrs. W.'s amiable woman.
+
+Constitutionally active and benevolent, judicious culture might have
+made her sensible, and, in common life, intelligent, pleasing, useful,
+happy. Nay, I need only refer to the picture of my former paper, to say
+what Fanny, well educated, was calculated to become. But this was what
+her parents were determined she should not be; and they spent twenty
+years, and no small amount of cash, to make her a woman of superior mind
+and distinguished literary attainments.
+
+I saw the result; for I saw Fanny at twenty, the most unlovely, useless,
+and unhappy being I ever met with. The very docility of a mind, not
+strong enough to choose its own part, and resist the influence of
+circumstances, hastened forward the catastrophe. She had learned to
+think herself what she could not be, and to despise what in reality she
+was; she could not otherwise than do so, for she had been imbued with it
+from her cradle.
+
+She was accustomed from her infancy to intellectual society; kept up to
+listen, when she should have been in bed; she counted the spots on the
+carpet, heard nothing that was said, and prided herself on being one of
+such company. A little later, she was encouraged to talk to every body,
+and give her opinion upon every thing, in order to improve and exercise
+her mind. Her mind remained unexercised, because she talked without
+thinking; but she learned to chatter, to repeat other people's opinions,
+and fancy her own were of immense importance.
+
+She was unlovely, because she sought only to please by means she had
+not, and to please those who were quite beyond her reach; others she had
+been accustomed to neglect as unfit for her companionship. She was
+useless, because what she might have done well, she was unaccustomed to
+do at all, and what she attempted, she was incapable of. And she was
+unhappy, because all her natural tastes had been thwarted, and her
+natural feelings suppressed; and of her acquired habits and
+high-sounding pursuits she had no capacity for enjoyment. Her love of
+classic and scientific lore, her delight in libraries, and museums, and
+choice intellects, and literary circles, was a fiction; they gratified
+nothing but her vanity. Her small, narrow, weak, and dependent mind, was
+a reality, and placed her within reach of mortification and
+disappointment, from the merest and meanest trifles.
+
+Jemima--my little friend Jemima--I lived to see her a woman too. From
+her infancy she had never evinced the tastes and feelings of a child.
+Intense reflection, keen and impatient sensibility and an unlimited
+desire to know, marked her from the earliest years as a very
+extraordinary child; dislike to the plays and exercises of childhood
+made her unpleasing to her companions, and, to superficial observers,
+melancholy; but this was amply contradicted by the eager vivacity of her
+intellect and feeling, when called forth by things beyond the usual
+compass of her age. Every thing in Jemima gave promise of extraordinary
+talent and distinguished character. This her parents saw, and were
+determined to counteract. They had made up their minds what a woman
+should be, and were determined Jemima should be nothing else. Every
+thing calculated to call forth her powers was kept out of her way, and
+childish occupations forced on her in their stead. The favorite maxim
+was, to occupy her mind with common things; she was made to romp, and to
+dance and to play; to read story books, and make dolls' clothes. Her
+physical powers were thus occupied; but where was her mind the while?
+Feeding itself with fancies, for want of truths; drawing false
+conclusions, forming wrong judgments, and brooding over its own
+mistakes, for want of a judicious occupation of its activities.
+
+Another maxim was, to keep Jemima ignorant of her own capacity, lest she
+should set up for a genius, and be undomesticated. She was told she had
+none, and was left in ignorance of what she was capable, and for what
+she was responsible. Made to believe that her fine feelings were
+oddities, her expansive thoughts absurdities, and her love of knowledge
+unfeminine and ungraceful, she kept them to herself, and became
+reserved, timid, and artificial.
+
+Nobody could prevent Jemima's acquiring knowledge; she saw every thing,
+reflected upon every thing, and learned from every thing; but without
+guide, and without discretion, she gathered the honey and the gall
+together, and knew not which was which. She was sent to school that she
+might learn to play, and fetched home that she might learn to be useful.
+In the former place she was shunned as an oddity, because she preferred
+to learn; and, finding herself disliked without deserving it,
+encouraged herself to independence by disliking every body. In the
+latter, she sewed her work awry, while she made a couplet to the moon,
+and unpicked it while she made another; and being told she did every
+thing ill, believed it, and became indolent and careless to do any
+thing. Consumed, meanwhile, by the restless workings of her mind, and
+tasked to exercise for which its delicate frame-work was unfit, her
+person became faded, worn, and feeble.
+
+To be brief, her parents succeeded in baffling nature's promise, but
+failed of the fulfillment of their own. At twenty, Jemima was a puzzle
+to every body, and a weariness to herself. Conscious of her powers, but
+not knowing how to spend them, she gave in to every imaginable caprice.
+Having made the discovery of her superiority, she despised the opinions
+of others, while her own were too ill-formed to be her guide. Proud of
+possessing talent, and yet ashamed to show it; unaccustomed to explain
+herself; certain of being misunderstood, and least of all understanding
+herself; ignorant, in the midst of knowledge, and incapable with
+unlimited capacity; tasteless for every thing she did, and ignorant how
+to do what she had a taste for, her mind was a luxuriant wilderness,
+inaccessible to others, and utterly unproductive to its possessor.
+Unpleasing and unfitted in the sphere she was in, and yet unfitted by
+habit and timidity for any other, weariness and disgust were her daily
+portion; her fine sensibilities, her deep feelings, her expansive
+thoughts, remained; but only to be wounded, to irritate, to mislead her.
+
+Where is the moral of my tale, and what the use of telling it? I have
+told it because I see that God has his purposes in every thing that he
+has done; and man has his own, and disregards them. And every day I hear
+it disputed, with acrimony and much unkindness, what faculties and
+characters it is better to have or not to have, without any
+consideration of what God has given or withheld; and standards are set
+up, by which all must be measured, though, alas! they cannot take from
+or add one cubit to their statures. "There is one glory of the sun, and
+another glory of the moon, and another glory of the stars; for one star
+differeth from another star in glory." Why do we not censure the sun for
+outshining the stars, and the pale moon for having no light but what she
+borrows?
+
+Instead of settling for others what they ought to be, and choosing for
+ourselves what we will be, would it not be better to examine the
+condition in which we are actually placed, and the faculties actually
+committed to us? and consider what was the purpose of Heaven in the
+former, and what the demand of Heaven in the occupation of the latter?
+If we have much, we are not at liberty to put it aside, and say we
+should be better without it; if we have little, we are not at liberty to
+be dissatisfied, and aspiring after more. And surely we are not at
+liberty to say that another has too much, or too little, of what God has
+given! We may have our preferences, but we must not mistake them for
+standards of right.
+
+Every character has beauties peculiar to itself, and dangers to which it
+is peculiarly exposed; and there are duties, pertaining to each, apart
+from the circumstances in which they may be placed. Nothing, therefore,
+can be more contrary to the manifest order and disposition of
+Providence, than to endeavor to be, or do, whatever we admire in
+another, or to force ourselves to be and do whatever we admire in
+ourselves. Which character, of the endless variety that surrounds us, is
+the most happy, the most useful, and most deserving to be beloved, it
+were impossible, I believe, to decide; and, if we could, we have gained
+little by the decision; for we could neither give it to our children,
+nor to ourselves. But of this we may be certain: that individual, of
+whatever intellectual character, is the happiest, the most useful, and
+the most beloved of God, if not of men, who has best subserved the
+purposes of Heaven in her creation and endowment; who has most carefully
+turned to good the faculties she has; most cautiously guarded against
+the evils to which her propensities incline; most justly estimated, and
+conscientiously fulfilled, the duties appropriate to her circumstance
+and character.
+
+
+
+
+INFLUENCE OF CHRISTIANITY ON WOMAN.
+
+
+The abject condition of the female sex, in all, out of Christian
+countries, is universally known and admitted. In all savage and pagan
+tribes, the severest burdens of physical toil are laid upon their
+shoulders; they are chiefly valued for the same reason that men value
+their most useful animals, or as objects of their sensual and selfish
+desires. Even in the learned and dignified forms of Eastern paganism,
+"the wife," says one who has spent seventeen years among them, "is the
+slave, rather than the companion of her husband. She is not allowed to
+walk with him, she must walk _behind_ him; not to eat with him, she must
+eat _after_ him, and eat of what he leaves. She must not sleep until he
+is asleep, nor remain asleep after he is awake. If she is sitting, and
+he comes in, she should rise up. She should, say their sacred books,
+have no other god on earth than her husband. Him she should worship
+while he lives, and, when he dies, she should be burnt with him. As the
+widow, in case she is not burnt, is not allowed to marry again, is often
+considered little better than an outcast, and not unfrequently sinks
+into gross vice, her life can scarcely be considered a blessing."
+
+The same author remarks, that "there is little social intercourse
+between the sexes; little or no acquaintance of the parties before
+marriage, and consequently little mutual attachment; and as there is an
+absolute vacuity and darkness in the minds of the females, who are not
+allowed even to learn to read, there is no solid foundation laid for
+domestic happiness."
+
+If we pass into the dominions of the crescent, we find the condition of
+females, in some respects, rather worse, it would seem, than better.
+For, in pagan India, debased and abused as woman is, she is still
+allowed some interest in religion, and some common expectations with the
+other sex, concerning the future state. But in Mohammedan countries,
+even this is nearly or quite denied her. "It is a popular tradition
+among the Mohammedans, which obtains to this day, that woman shall not
+enter Paradise;" and it requires some effort of the imagination to
+conceive how debased and wretched must be the condition of the female
+sex, to originate and sustain such a horrible and blasphemous tradition.
+
+Even in the refined and shining ages of Egypt, Greece, and Rome, where
+the cultivation of letters, the graces of finished style, the charms of
+poetry and eloquence, the elegances of architecture, sculpture,
+painting, and embroidery, the glory of conquest, and the pride of
+national distinction, were unsurpassed by any people before or
+since--even then and there, what was the woman but the abject slave of
+man? the object of his ambition, or his avarice, or his lust, or his
+power? the alternate victim of his pleasures, his disgust, or his
+cruelty? the creature of his caprice? and, what is worse, the menial
+slave of her own mental darkness, moral debasement, and vicious
+indulgences? If history is not false, the answer is decisive. This, and
+only this, was she!
+
+But how entirely has our religion reversed all this, and rendered her
+life a blessing to herself and to society. And as Christianity has done
+so much for woman, she ought in return to do much for Christianity.
+Every thing that can render life desirable, she owes to Christ. Think
+for one moment of the hole of the pit from which Christ has taken you!
+Think of what would be your present condition, had it not been for the
+Christian religion! You might have been with the debased and wretched
+victims of pagan oppression, cruelty, and lust; burning alive upon the
+funeral pile; or sacrificed by hands of violence or pollution; or cast
+out, and neglected, to pine in solitary and hopeless grief. Or, with the
+female followers of the false prophet, or, in more refined but
+unchristian nations, you might have been little else than the slave or
+the convenience of man, and left to doubt whether any inheritance awaits
+you beyond the grave.
+
+From these depths of debasement and wretchedness, Christianity has taken
+you, and placed you on high, to move, and shine, and rejoice, in the
+sphere for which the Creator designed you. Not only has it made your
+condition as good as that of man, but, in a moral view, in some respects
+superior to it. How much, then, do you owe to Christ! To turn away from
+him with indifference or neglect, what ingratitude is this! How
+preposterous, how base, how unlovely, is female impiety! There was much
+sense in a remark made by an intelligent gentleman, who, although not
+pious himself, said: "I cannot look with any complacency upon a woman
+who does not manifest gratitude and love to Jesus Christ. Above all
+things, I hate to see so unnatural an object as an irreligious woman."
+
+Such being the constitution and circumstances of woman, it is the
+manifest intention of God that she should be pre-eminent in moral
+excellence; and, through the influence of this, take a glorious lead in
+the renovation of the world. This she has to some extent ever done. Let
+all females of Christian lands consider well their high calling, their
+solemn responsibility, and their glorious privilege. While many of their
+sex have proved recreant to their trust, and wasted life in vanity and
+in vice, others--an illustrious constellation, the holy and the good of
+ancient time, the mothers and the sisters in Israel, "the chief women,
+not a few," of apostolic times, the bright throng, that have since
+continued to come out from the world, and tread in the steps of Jesus,
+and lead on their fellow-beings to the kingdom of purity and joy--have
+proved to us that, as woman was first to fall, so she is first to rise.
+
+Yes; though it is not hers to amass wealth; to aspire to secular office
+and power; to shine in camps and armies; to hurl the thunders of our
+navies, and gather laurels from the ocean, or to receive the vain
+incense offered to public and popular eloquence: yet, hers it is, to be
+robed with the beauty of Christ; to shine in the honors of goodness; to
+shed over the world the sweet and holy influences of peace, virtue, and
+religion; to be adorned with those essential and imperishable beauties,
+those unearthly stars and diadems, whose lustre will survive, with
+ever-increasing brightness, when all earthly glory will fade and be
+forgotten. Come, then; come to your high duty, your glorious
+privilege--come, and be blessed for ever!
+
+
+
+
+IMPORTANCE OF RELIGION TO WOMAN.
+
+
+There is nothing so adapted to the wants of woman as religion. She has
+many trials, and she therefore peculiarly needs support; religion is her
+asylum, not only in heavy afflictions, but in petty disquietudes. These,
+as they are more frequent, are perhaps almost as harassing; at least,
+they equally need a sedative influence, and religion is the anodyne. For
+it is religion which, by placing before her a better and more enduring
+happiness than this world can offer, reconciles her to temporary
+privations; and, by acquainting her with the love of God, leads her to
+rest securely upon his providence in present disappointment. It inspires
+her with that true content, which not only endures distress, but is
+cheerful under it.
+
+Resignation is not, as we are too apt to portray her, beauty bowered in
+willows, and bending over a sepulchral urn; neither is she a tragic
+queen, pathetic only in her weeds. She is an active, as well as passive
+virtue; an habitual, not an occasional sentiment. She should be as
+familiar to woman as her daily cross; for acquiescence in the detail of
+Providence is as much a duty, as submission to its result; and
+equanimity amid domestic irritations equally implies religious
+principle, as fortitude under severer trials. It was the remark of one,
+who certainly was not disposed to care for trifles, that "it required as
+much grace to bear the breaking of a china cup, as any of the graver
+distresses of life."
+
+Minor cares are indeed the province of woman; minor annoyances her
+burden. Dullness, bad temper, mal-adroitness, are to her the cause of a
+thousand petty rubs, which too often spoil the euphony of a silver
+voice, and discompose the symmetry of fair features. But the confidence
+which reposes on divine affection, and the charity which covers human
+frailty, are the only specifics for impatience.
+
+And, if religion is such a blessing in the ordinary trials of life, what
+a soothing balm it is in graver sorrows! From these, woman is by no
+means exempt; on the contrary, as her susceptibility is great,
+afflictions press on her with peculiar heaviness. There is sometimes a
+stillness in her grief which argues only its intensity, and it is this
+rankling wound which piety alone can heal. Nothing, perhaps, is more
+affecting than woman's chastened sorrow. Her ties may be severed, her
+fond hopes withered, her young affections blighted, yet peace may be in
+her breast, and heaven in her eye. If the business and turmoil of life
+brush away the tears of manly sorrows, and scarcely leave time even for
+the indulgence of sympathy, woman gathers strength in her solitary
+chamber, to encounter and subdue her grief. There she learns to look
+her sorrow in the face; there she becomes familiar with its features;
+there she communes with it, as with a celestial messenger; till at
+length she can almost welcome its presence, and hail it as the harbinger
+of a brighter world.
+
+Religion is her only elevating principle. It identifies itself with the
+movements of her heart and with the actions of her life, spiritualizing
+the one and ennobling the other. Duties, however subordinate, are to the
+religious woman never degrading; their principle is their apology. She
+does not live amidst the clouds, or abandon herself to mystic
+excitement; she is raised above the sordidness, but not above the
+concerns, of earth; above its disquietudes, but not above its cares.
+
+Religion is just what woman needs. Without it, she is ever restless and
+unhappy; ever wishing to be relieved from duty or from time. She is
+either ambitious of display, or greedy of pleasure, or sinks into a
+listless apathy, useless to others and unworthy of herself. But when the
+light from heaven shines upon her path, it invests every object with a
+reflected radiance. Duties, occupations, nay, even trials, are seen
+through a bright medium; and the sunshine which gilds her course on
+earth, is but the dawning of a far clearer day.
+
+
+     *     *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+   The following words were inconsistently hyphenated:
+
+      house-wife / housewife
+      time-piece / timepiece
+
+   Other errors:
+
+      Original
+        Page
+         11    Missing period after 'other'
+               ....each other "_Familiarity_," says....
+         72    Missing period after 'it'
+               ....could not help it She sang to Nurse....
+        124    extra 'n' in the name Fanny
+               ....cannot be said that Fannny's health....
+
+
+
+***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LADIES' VASE***
+
+
+******* This file should be named 16802.txt or 16802.zip *******
+
+
+This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/6/8/0/16802
+
+
+
+Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions
+will be renamed.
+
+Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no
+one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation
+(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without
+permission and without paying copyright royalties.  Special rules,
+set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to
+copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to
+protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark.  Project
+Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you
+charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission.  If you
+do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the
+rules is very easy.  You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose
+such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and
+research.  They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do
+practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks.  Redistribution is
+subject to the trademark license, especially commercial
+redistribution.
+
+
+
+*** START: FULL LICENSE ***
+
+THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE
+PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK
+
+To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free
+distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work
+(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at
+https://gutenberg.org/license).
+
+
+Section 1.  General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic works
+
+1.A.  By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to
+and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property
+(trademark/copyright) agreement.  If you do not agree to abide by all
+the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy
+all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession.
+If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the
+terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or
+entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8.
+
+1.B.  "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark.  It may only be
+used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who
+agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement.  There are a few
+things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works
+even without complying with the full terms of this agreement.  See
+paragraph 1.C below.  There are a lot of things you can do with Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement
+and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.  See paragraph 1.E below.
+
+1.C.  The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation"
+or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic works.  Nearly all the individual works in the
+collection are in the public domain in the United States.  If an
+individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are
+located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from
+copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative
+works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg
+are removed.  Of course, we hope that you will support the Project
+Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by
+freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of
+this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with
+the work.  You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by
+keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project
+Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others.
+
+1.D.  The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern
+what you can do with this work.  Copyright laws in most countries are in
+a constant state of change.  If you are outside the United States, check
+the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement
+before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or
+creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project
+Gutenberg-tm work.  The Foundation makes no representations concerning
+the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United
+States.
+
+1.E.  Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg:
+
+1.E.1.  The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate
+access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently
+whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the
+phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project
+Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed,
+copied or distributed:
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+1.E.2.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived
+from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is
+posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied
+and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees
+or charges.  If you are redistributing or providing access to a work
+with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the
+work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1
+through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the
+Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or
+1.E.9.
+
+1.E.3.  If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted
+with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution
+must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional
+terms imposed by the copyright holder.  Additional terms will be linked
+to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the
+permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work.
+
+1.E.4.  Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this
+work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm.
+
+1.E.5.  Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this
+electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without
+prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with
+active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm License.
+
+1.E.6.  You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary,
+compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any
+word processing or hypertext form.  However, if you provide access to or
+distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than
+"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version
+posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org),
+you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a
+copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon
+request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other
+form.  Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1.
+
+1.E.7.  Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying,
+performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works
+unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9.
+
+1.E.8.  You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing
+access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided
+that
+
+- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from
+     the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method
+     you already use to calculate your applicable taxes.  The fee is
+     owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he
+     has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the
+     Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation.  Royalty payments
+     must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you
+     prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax
+     returns.  Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and
+     sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the
+     address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to
+     the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation."
+
+- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies
+     you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he
+     does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm
+     License.  You must require such a user to return or
+     destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium
+     and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of
+     Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any
+     money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the
+     electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days
+     of receipt of the work.
+
+- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free
+     distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works.
+
+1.E.9.  If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm
+electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set
+forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from
+both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael
+Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark.  Contact the
+Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below.
+
+1.F.
+
+1.F.1.  Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable
+effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread
+public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm
+collection.  Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain
+"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or
+corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual
+property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a
+computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by
+your equipment.
+
+1.F.2.  LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right
+of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project
+Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project
+Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all
+liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal
+fees.  YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT
+LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE
+PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3.  YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE
+TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE
+LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR
+INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH
+DAMAGE.
+
+1.F.3.  LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a
+defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can
+receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a
+written explanation to the person you received the work from.  If you
+received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with
+your written explanation.  The person or entity that provided you with
+the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a
+refund.  If you received the work electronically, the person or entity
+providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to
+receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund.  If the second copy
+is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further
+opportunities to fix the problem.
+
+1.F.4.  Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth
+in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER
+WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO
+WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE.
+
+1.F.5.  Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied
+warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages.
+If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the
+law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be
+interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by
+the applicable state law.  The invalidity or unenforceability of any
+provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions.
+
+1.F.6.  INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the
+trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone
+providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance
+with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production,
+promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works,
+harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees,
+that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do
+or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm
+work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any
+Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause.
+
+
+Section  2.  Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of
+electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers
+including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers.  It exists
+because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from
+people in all walks of life.
+
+Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the
+assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's
+goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will
+remain freely available for generations to come.  In 2001, the Project
+Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure
+and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations.
+To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation
+and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4
+and the Foundation web page at https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf.
+
+
+Section 3.  Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive
+Foundation
+
+The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit
+501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the
+state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal
+Revenue Service.  The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification
+number is 64-6221541.  Contributions to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent
+permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws.
+
+The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S.
+Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered
+throughout numerous locations.  Its business office is located at
+809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email
+business@pglaf.org.  Email contact links and up to date contact
+information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official
+page at https://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact
+
+For additional contact information:
+     Dr. Gregory B. Newby
+     Chief Executive and Director
+     gbnewby@pglaf.org
+
+Section 4.  Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg
+Literary Archive Foundation
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide
+spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of
+increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be
+freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest
+array of equipment including outdated equipment.  Many small donations
+($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt
+status with the IRS.
+
+The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating
+charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United
+States.  Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a
+considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up
+with these requirements.  We do not solicit donations in locations
+where we have not received written confirmation of compliance.  To
+SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any
+particular state visit https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we
+have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition
+against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who
+approach us with offers to donate.
+
+International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make
+any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from
+outside the United States.  U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff.
+
+Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation
+methods and addresses.  Donations are accepted in a number of other
+ways including including checks, online payments and credit card
+donations.  To donate, please visit:
+https://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate
+
+
+Section 5.  General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic
+works.
+
+Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm
+concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared
+with anyone.  For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project
+Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support.
+
+Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed
+editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S.
+unless a copyright notice is included.  Thus, we do not necessarily
+keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition.
+
+Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility:
+
+     https://www.gutenberg.org
+
+This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm,
+including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary
+Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to
+subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks.
+
diff --git a/16802.zip b/16802.zip
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a4fccbf
--- /dev/null
+++ b/16802.zip
diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6312041
--- /dev/null
+++ b/LICENSE.txt
@@ -0,0 +1,11 @@
+This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements,
+metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be
+in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES.
+
+Procedures for determining public domain status are described in
+the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org.
+
+No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in
+jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize
+this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright
+status under the laws that apply to them.
diff --git a/README.md b/README.md
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..bb474a5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/README.md
@@ -0,0 +1,2 @@
+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #16802 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/16802)
author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:49:43 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 04:49:43 -0700
commit	d1ae556cde1cccbac808aa98338bfbe927cc020d (patch)
tree	b846ff761e35579299ebfd1885fcb75ef7b13b3b