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diff --git a/old/55558-0.txt b/old/55558-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 20ee964..0000000 --- a/old/55558-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6100 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Boarding School, by Hannah Webster Foster - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Boarding School - Lessons of a Preceptress to Her Pupils: Consisting of - Information, Instruction and Advice, Calculated to Improve - the Manners and Form the Character of Young Ladies. to - Which Is Added, a Collection of Letters, Written by the - Pupils to Their Instructress, Their Friends, and Each Other. - -Author: Hannah Webster Foster - -Release Date: September 16, 2017 [EBook #55558] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOARDING SCHOOL *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from images made available by the HathiTrust -Digital Library.) - - - - - - - - - - THE - BOARDING SCHOOL; - - LESSONS - OF A - PRECEPTRESS TO HER PUPILS: - CONSISTING OF - Information, Instruction and Advice, - CALCULATED TO IMPROVE THE MANNERS AND FORM THE CHARACTER OF - YOUNG LADIES. - TO WHICH IS ADDED, - A COLLECTION OF LETTERS, - WRITTEN BY THE PUPILS TO THEIR INSTRUCTRESS, THEIR FRIENDS, AND EACH - OTHER. - - - BY A LADY OF MASSACHUSETTS, - AUTHOR OF THE ‘COQUETTE.’ - - BOSTON. J. P. PEASLEE. - - MDCCCXXIX. - - - - - _Press of Putnam & Hunt._ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CONTENTS - - - THE BOARDING SCHOOL, &c. - LETTERS. - - - - - DEDICATION. - - -To the YOUNG LADIES OF AMERICA, the following sheets are affectionately -inscribed. - -Convinced of the many advantages of a good education, and the importance -of improving those advantages; or of counterbalancing the want of them -by exerting the mental powers which nature has bestowed; sensible, too, -that the foundation of a useful and happy life must be laid in youth, -and that much depends on the early infusion of virtuous principles into -the docile mind, the author has employed a part of her leisure hours in -collecting and arranging her ideas on the subject of female deportment. - -How far she has succeeded in her design, the voice of a candid public -will pronounce. - - - - - THE - BOARDING SCHOOL, &c. - - -On the delightful margin of the Merrimac, in one of the most pleasant -and beautiful situations, which that fertile and healthful part of -America affords, lived Mrs. Williams, the virtuous relict of a -respectable clergyman. - -She had two daughters, lovely and promising as ever parent could boast. - -Mrs. Williams’ circumstances were easy. She possessed a little -patrimony, to which she retired, after her husband’s decease; but a -desire of preserving this for her children, and a wish to promote their -advantage and enlarge their society, induced her to open a Boarding -School. - -As she had an eye, no less to the social pleasure, than to the pecuniary -profit of the undertaking, she admitted only seven, at a time, to the -privilege of her tuition. - -These were all young ladies, who had previously received the first -rudiments of learning, and been initiated into the polite -accomplishments, which embellish virtue and soften the cares of human -life. They had generally lived in the metropolis, and had acquired the -graces of a fashionable deportment; but they possessed different tempers -and dispositions, which had been variously, and, in some respects, -erroneously managed. - -To cultivate the expanding flowers, and to prune the juvenile -eccentricities, which were disseminated among these tender plants; or, -to speak without a figure, to extend and purify their ideas, to elevate -and refine their affections, to govern and direct their passions, -required an eye, watchful, and a hand, skilful as those of the judicious -Mrs. Williams. - -While her judgment and prudence aided the useful acquisitions of the -mind, a sprightly fancy and a cheerful disposition, regulated by -experience and discretion, qualified her to enter, at once, with -becoming dignity and condescending ease, into all their concerns; to -participate their pleasures; while, with candor and mildness, she -reproved their errors, detected their follies, and facilitated their -amendment. - -As the young ladies had finished their school education, before Mrs. -Williams received them to her mansion, her instructions were more -especially designed to polish the mental part, to call forth the dormant -virtues, to unite and arrange the charms of person and mind, to inspire -a due sense of decorum and propriety, and to instil such principles of -piety, morality, benevolence, prudence and economy, as might be useful -through life. - -Their time was, accordingly, disposed in a manner most conducive to the -attainment of these objects. Every part of it was employed to some -valuable purpose; “for idleness,” Mrs. Williams observed, “is the rust -of the mind.” - -Whatever tended to enlarge, inform, improve, or amuse, she supposed -worthy their attention. - -She particularly endeavored to domesticate them; to turn their thoughts -to the beneficial and necessary qualifications of private life; often -inculcating, that - - “Nothing lovelier can be found in woman - Than to study household good;” - -and laboring to convince them of the utter insignificance and -uselessness of that part of the sex, who are - - “Bred only and completed to the taste - Of lustful appetence; to sing, to dance, - To dress, and troll the tongue, and roll the eye.” - -Early rising she recommended, both by precept and example. This, she -said, would not only promote their health, but render them mistresses of -many hours, which must otherwise be lost in enervating sloth and -inaction. “And should we,” continued she, “who have so much cause for -exertion, thus sacrifice the best part of our time?” - - - “Falsely luxurious, will not man awake, - And, starting from the bed of sloth, enjoy - The cool, the fragrant, and the silent hour, - To meditation due, and sacred song? - And is there aught in sleep can charm the wise? - To lie in dead oblivion, losing half - The fleeting moments of too short a life? - Total extinction of th’ enlighten’d soul! - Or else to feverish vanity alive, - Wilder’d and tossing through distemper’d dreams? - Who would in such a gloomy state remain, - Longer than nature craves; when every muse, - And every blooming pleasure wait without, - To bless the wildly devious morning walk?” - -Another laudable practice of Mrs. Williams, was perfect regularity in -the government of her pupils, and in the arrangement of their daily -exercises. “When,” said she, “we observe the order of the natural world, -and admire the consistency and harmony of every part, we may hence -derive a lesson, for the regulation of our conduct, in the sphere -assigned to us.” - -Pursuant to this plan of operation, the young ladies arose at five; from -which they had two hours at their own disposal, till the bell summoned -them at seven, to the hall, where, the ceremonies of the morning -salutation over, they breakfasted together; their repast being seasoned -with the unrestrained effusions of good humor and sociability. On these -occasions, Mrs. Williams suspended the authority of the matron, that, by -accustoming her pupils to familiarity in her presence, they might be -free from restraint; and, feeling perfectly easy and unawed, appear in -their genuine characters. By this means she had an opportunity of -observing any indecorum of behavior, or wrong bias; which she kept in -mind, till a proper time to mention, and remonstrate against it; a -method, the salutary effects of which were visible in the daily -improvement of her pupils. - -The breakfast table removed, each took her needle-work, except one, who -read some amusing and instructive book, for the benefit and -entertainment of the rest. The subject was selected by Mrs. Williams, -who conferred the reading upon them in rotation. - -At twelve o’clock, they were dismissed till one, when dinner again -called them together, which was conducted in the same manner as the -morning repast. - -Having resumed their occupations, the reader of the day produced some -piece of her own composition, either in prose, or verse, according to -her inclination, as a specimen of her genius and improvement. This being -submitted to Mrs. Williams’ inspection, and the candid perusal and -criticism of her companions; and the subject canvassed with great -freedom of opinion, they withdrew from the tasks of the day to seek that -relaxation and amusement, which each preferred. No innocent -gratification was denied them. The sprightly dance, the sentimental -song, and indeed every species of pastime, consistent with the decorum -of the sex, was encouraged, as tending to health, cheerfulness, and -alacrity. - -In these pleasing pursuits and enjoyments, the present class of happy -companions had nearly completed the term allotted them by their parents, -and were soon to leave the peaceful shades in which they delighted, when -being assembled on the Monday morning of their last week, their revered -Preceptress thus accosted them: - -“As the period is approaching, my dear pupils, when I must resign your -society, and quit the important charge of instructer and friend, which I -have sustained with so much pleasure, and, I trust, with some degree of -fidelity, I shall sum up the counsels, admonitions, and advice, which I -have frequently inculcated, and endeavor to impress them on your minds, -as my valedictory address. For this purpose, during this last week of -your residence with me, I shall dispense with your usual exercises, and -substitute a collection of my own sentiments, enforced by the pathos of -the occasion. - -“Your docility, and cheerful diligence in attending to my instructions; -your modest, affectionate, and respectful behavior, together with the -laudable progress you have made in every branch, which you have pursued, -have well rewarded my care, and engaged my approbation and love. To me, -therefore, a separation will be painful. To you the period is important. -It is a period, which, while it relieves you from the confinement of -scholastic rules, introduces you to new scenes of cares, of pleasures, -of trials, and of temptations, which will call for the exercise of every -virtue, and afford opportunity for improving the endowments, both -natural and acquired, which you possess. Think not then, that your -emancipation from schools, gives you liberty to neglect the advantages -which you have received from them. The obligations under which you are -laid to your parents for the education they have given you, require a -diligent improvement of every talent committed to your trust. - -“Of needle-work you are complete mistresses, from the most delicate and -highly finished, to the most ordinary, though perhaps not less useful, -economy of mending and making the coarser garments of family use. Many, -I am aware, suppose _this last_ a species of learning, which is beneath -the attention of a lady: but Clara will tell you how valuable it has -proved to her; and how valuable it _may_ prove to you. - -“Nursed in the lap of affluence, and accustomed to unbounded expense, -Clara little thought, at your age, that she should ever depend on her -needle for the livelihood and decent appearance of a rising family. A -discreet and prudent mother early inculcated the lessons of industry and -economy, which she now practices; and taught her that the knowledge -could be of no disservice, though she never had occasion for it. She -married with the brightest prospects. But a series of unavoidable -disasters, such as no human wisdom could foresee or prevent, reduced her -to narrow circumstances; and, to complete her misfortune, she was left a -widow with four small children. Her parents were in the grave; her -patrimony was gone! In this exigence what was her resource? Not -fruitless lamentations, and unavailing complaints. She immediately -summoned her resolution; and by the use of her needle has ever since -supported herself and family with decency, and been highly respected for -her prudent exertions and exemplary industry. Directly the reverse of -this amiable character is that of Belinda. She was educated in the same -way with Clara; the same schools gave them tuition; and similar -prospects awaited their entrance into life. Calamities attended the -progress of each; but different as their tempers and dispositions was -their conduct under them. The falling fortunes of Clara were awhile -suspended by her discretion and frugality; while the ruin of Belinda was -hastened by her extravagance, dissipation, and idleness. View them, now, -in their reduced state! Neatness, cheerfulness, and activity preside in -the dwelling of Clara; negligence, peevishness, and sloth are legibly -stamped on that of Belinda. The ear is pained by her complaints of -poverty; the eye is disgusted by her slatternly appearance, and -ostentatious display of the tattered remnants of finery, which bespeak -the pride and indolence of their owner; who will neither convert them -into more comfortable garments, nor, by repairing, render them becoming. - -“I hope, however, that occasions like these may never call for your -exertions. But there may be cases, when, to know the use of your needles -will answer important purposes, even in an exalted station, and amidst -the splendor of affluence and plenty. - -“Matilda dignified a princely fortune by the exercise of every virtue -which can adorn a lady. Among these, charity shone conspicuous. Her maid -said to her, one day, Madam, would you have me lay aside these -cast-clothes for some poor person? Yes, replied Matilda; but sit down, -and mend them first. Don’t you see they need it? Why, Madam, rejoined -the girl, is it not enough for you to give them away? I should think the -least they can do is to mend them for themselves! In that case, said -Matilda, my bounty would be greatly diminished. People, who need charity -have not the necessary materials for putting such articles into repair; -and should I furnish them, perhaps they have never been taught to use -their needles. No more have I, returned the maid. Have you not? said -Matilda. Well then, sit down, and I will direct your ingenuity upon -these clothes. By this mean you may learn a very useful lesson, I assure -you; a lesson, which by practising for yourself, will enable you to lay -up part of your wages against the time when sickness or old age shall -take you from your labors. - -“Such examples of condescension and benevolence to inferiors, are of -more real and lasting use than pounds prodigally bestowed. - -“Do you seek higher testimonies of the honor and utility of this -employment? You may collect many from the histories which you have read -during the last year. Among the Romans, and several other nations of -antiquity, a scarf, wrought by the needle of a favorite fair, was -received as an honorable token of respect, and improved as an invincible -stimulus to heroic deeds. Ladies of the first rank and station -considered it as no derogation from the dignity or delicacy of their -character, to make their own apparel, and that of their families. The -virtuous Panthea, when her husband was going to fight in the cause of -Cyrus, her generous deliverer, magnificently adorned his person, and -decorated his armor with her own needle-work. - -“We ought never to be idle. No moment should be unoccupied. Some -employment, salutary, either to body or mind, or both, should be -constantly pursued; and the needle is always at hand to supply the want -of other avocations. The listless vacuity, which some young ladies -indulge, renders them extremely unhappy, though they are insensible of -the cause and seek to beguile the time in frivolous amusements. - -“A still more endearing motive remains to be suggested; and that is the -pleasure, which your accomplishments in this ornamental and useful art -must afford your parents; and the pain, which your neglect of it -hereafter must occasion them. - -“But your faithful and assiduous improvement of time, since you have -been with me, is a sure pledge of your perseverance in the path of duty, -and your progress in every virtue. I trust, therefore, that what I have -said will be engraved on your memories; and that some useful ideas will -be selected by each of you for your future advantage. - -“Your minds are a good soil; and may I not flatter myself, that the -seeds of instruction which I have sown, will spring up, and yield fruit -abundantly?’” - -With one voice, they most affectionately assured Mrs. Williams, that it -should be their daily study to profit by her lessons; and withdrew. - - - _Monday, P. M._ - - READING. - -Being assembled, this afternoon, Mrs. Williams thus resumed her -discourse. - -“Reading is so common a part of education, that the value of it is not -duly estimated; nor the manner of performing it, sufficiently attended -to. It is not the mere propriety of pronunciation, accent, and cadence, -which constitutes good reading. You must enter into the spirit of the -subject, and feel interested in the matter, before you can profit by the -exercise. - -“But you are so well acquainted with the manner of reading, that the -quality of books most worthy of your perusal is the only point on which -I need to enlarge. - -“Romances, the taste of former times, are now so far out of vogue, that -it is hardly necessary to warn you against them. They exhibit the spirit -of chivalry, knight-errantry, and extravagant folly, which prevailed in -the age they depict. But they are not interesting; nor can they be -pleasing to the correct taste and refined delicacy of the present day. - -“Novels, are the favorite and the most dangerous kind of reading, now -adopted by the generality of young ladies. I say dangerous, because the -influence, which, with very few exceptions, they must have upon the -passions of youth, bears an unfavorable aspect on their purity and -virtue. The style in which they are written is commonly captivating; and -the luxuriance of the descriptions with which they abound, extremely -agreeable to the sprightly fancy, and high expectations of the -inexperienced and unreflecting. Their romantic pictures of love, beauty, -and magnificence, fill the imagination with ideas which lead to impure -desires, a vanity of exterior charms, and a fondness for show and -dissipation, by no means consistent with that simplicity, modesty, and -chastity, which should be the constant inmates of the female breast. -They often pervert the judgment, mislead the affections, and blind the -understanding. - -“A melancholy example of this sort is exhibited in Juliana. Juliana was -the only daughter of a wealthy merchant, who grudged no expense which -could please or embellish his darling child. He, however, possessed -neither leisure nor abilities ‘to teach the young idea how to shoot;’ -but thought it sufficient that he gave her every advantage, which could -be derived from the various schools, to which she was consigned. She had -a brilliant fancy, and a fondness for books, which, properly directed, -might have proved of great use to her. But, having no better principles -instilled into her mind, she indulged herself in the unlimited reading -of novels, and every light publication which a circulating library could -furnish. - -“Hence her imagination took wing, and carried her far above the scenes -of common life. The excessive refinement of her mind admitted no -ordinary amusements or avocations. Plain truth from her own sex was an -insult; and from the other, nothing less than adoration would satisfy -her unbounded vanity. Her beauty (of which she really had a considerable -share) and the large fortune which she would probably inherit, gained -her many admirers; some of whom were men of unquestionable merit. But a -sober, rational courtship could not answer her ideas of love and -gallantry. The swain, who would not die for her, she deemed unworthy of -notice. - -“Her father strongly recommended a gentleman, as well calculated, in his -opinion, to make her happy, and as having his entire approbation; but -she rejected him with disdain, though she could produce no one objection -against his person, or character. - -“Her father acquiesced; expressing, however, his regret at the mistaken -notions she had imbibed; and warning her most pathetically against the -indulgence of so romantic a disposition; yet all in vain. He was -considered as an illiterate plodder after wealth, which she had a right -to bestow as she pleased. - -“At last the lovely youth whom she had so long contemplated, made his -appearance. A military captain entered the town on the recruiting -service. Young, handsome, easy, bold and assuming; with all the _bon -ton_ of the coxcomb, and all the insolence of the novice. He saw -Juliana; he sacrificed to her charms, and conquered. She could not -resist the allurements of his gallantry. His affectation of dying love -was received with apparent pleasure; while art and duplicity took -advantage of her weakness, to precipitate her into engagements to pity -and relieve him. Her friends saw her danger, and warmly remonstrated -against her imprudent conduct, in receiving the addresses of a man, -destitute of property to support her, and void of every kind of personal -merit. Her father entreated and implored the rejection of her lover, -till, finding every other method vain, he at length resolutely forbade -him the house, and his daughter’s company. This was viewed as -persecution; and, consistently with her sentiments of adventurous love, -a clandestine amour was commenced. Her father surprised them together; -and, enraged at their disgraceful intrigue, seized the captain, and -endeavored to turn him out of doors. He violently resented this -ungentlemanlike treatment, as he termed it, and defended himself with -his sword. The old gentleman received a slight wound in the scuffle; but -accomplished his purpose. Juliana was terrified at this rencounter, and, -dreading her father’s displeasure, ran out with her paramour. His -lodgings were near, and thither, favored by the darkness of the night, -he instantly led her. She involuntarily followed him, without -considering the impropriety of her conduct. Here he drew his sword, and, -throwing himself at her feet, professed his despair, and declared -himself resolved to put an immediate end to his life. She endeavored to -reason him into calmness; but in vain. He was sensible, that, if he now -relinquished her to her father, he should lose her forever. His apparent -agony overcame her, and she gave him her hand. - -“Her father was almost distracted at her elopement. He traced her steps, -and, following her to the house, condescended to soothe her with -parental kindness; and promised her pardon and continued affection, if -she would renounce her worthless lover, and return. She confessed it was -too late; that she was his wife. - -“Petrified with astonishment, he looked at her, for some time, with -speechless grief; and, showing his arm, bound up with the wound he had -received, left her with every token of anguish and indignation! - -“When the fever of passion had abated, a returning sense of duty in -Juliana, and, in the captain, the fear of losing the property which he -sought, induced them to seek a reconciliation, and make submissive -efforts to obtain it. But her father was too highly incensed to grant it -to him, on any terms; or to her, on any other than the utter rejection -of her unworthy companion. These terms were not complied with. - -“Sorrow and vexation preyed so deeply upon the mind of this afflicted -parent, that they brought on a rapid decline; and he died without again -seeing his undutiful and ruined daughter. His estate was divided between -Juliana and her four brothers. Her portion was received by her husband, -and soon spent in dissipation and excess. Having rioted on the fortune -of his wife, while she often pined at home for want of the common -necessaries of life, he left her, to join his regiment, promising -remittances from time to time, for her support. This promise, however, -was but ill performed; and she now feels the dreadful effects of her -folly, in the accumulated ills of poverty and neglect. Yet she still -cherishes the most passionate fondness for what has proved her bane. A -friend called to see her, not long since, and found her the emblem of -wretchedness and sloth. Her emaciated form, her squalid appearance, the -disorder of her house, and her tattered raiment, bespoke the shameful -negligence of the owner. Yet she was sitting with a novel in her hand, -over which she had apparently been weeping. She expatiated largely on -the tale it contained, while her children, who exhibited a picture of -real woe, engaged not her attention. Her friend enquired how she could -be thus interested and distressed by mere fiction, while every thing -about her was calculated to arouse the keenest feelings of her soul! She -coolly replied, I have fortitude sufficient to support my own calamity, -but I must sympathize with the heroine of adversity. I have not lost my -sensibility with my fortune. My only luxury is now imagination! How -ill-timed, and how improperly exerted, was this kind of sensibility, in -Juliana! Where, and what was her sensibility, when she disobeyed an -indulgent parent, sacrificed her reputation, and threw herself into the -arms of a worthless man for protection—from what? from the kindness and -love of her best friends! - -“But I would not be understood to condemn all novels indiscriminately; -though great prudence is necessary to make a useful selection. Some of -them are fraught with sentiment; convey lessons for moral improvement; -and exhibit striking pictures of virtue rewarded; and of vice, folly, -and indiscretion punished; which may prove encouragements to imitate, or -warnings to avoid similar practices. I shall not descend to particulars. -Those, which are sanctioned by the general voice of delicacy and -refinement, may be allowed a reading; yet none should engross your -minds, to the neglect of more important objects; nor be suffered to -monopolize too large a portion of your time. - -“Novels are a kind of light reading, on which the imagination feasts, -while the more substantial food which is requisite to the nourishment of -the understanding, is either untasted or undigested. Imagination is a -sportive faculty, which should be curbed by the reins of prudence and -judgment. Its sallies are delightful in youth, provided they be not too -excursive. - -“Poetry is, by some, ranked with novels; but I think injudiciously. Good -poetry is certainly a sublime source of entertainment and instruction. -What music is to the ear, poetry is to the heart. There must, indeed, be -a natural taste for it, before it can be highly relished or enjoyed; and -this taste, whereever it exists, should be cultivated. I know of no kind -of reading more richly formed for the mental repast of a liberal and -polished young lady, than the poetical productions of true genius. The -trifling and indelicate cantos of ordinary witlings, and every day -poetasters, are unworthy your attention. But the species of poetry which -I now recommend, is peculiarly adapted to soften the passions, excite -sympathy, and meliorate the affections. It soothes the jarring cares of -life, and, pervading the secret recesses of the soul, serves to rouse -and animate its dormant powers. - -“Many essays, written by monitors of both sexes, are extant, which you -may find profitable and pleasing, both in youth and more advanced age. -Among the foremost of these, I mention Mrs. Chapone’s letters to her -niece, which contain a valuable treasure of information and advice. - -“But among your hours devoted to reading, history must not be without a -place. Here an extensive field of ages and generations, which have gone -before you, is opened to your view. Here your curiosity may be gratified -by a retrospection of events, which, by conducting your thoughts to -remotest climes and periods, interests and enlarges the mind. Here the -various revolutions, the rise, fall, and dismemberment of ancient -kingdoms and states may be traced to the different springs of action, in -which they originated. Hence you may gain a competent acquaintance with -human nature in all its modifications, from the most rude and barbarous, -to the most civilized and polished stages of society. This is a species -of knowledge, which will not only be of constant use to you, in the -government of your own temper and manners, but highly ornamental in your -intercourse with the polite and learned world. - -“But let your reading of every description be regular and methodical. -Never confuse your minds by a variety of subjects at once. When you turn -your attention to any one in particular, finish, and lay that aside, -before you take up another. Let what you read be well understood at the -time, and well digested afterwards. Possess yourselves, at least, of the -leading traits: otherwise your labor will be totally lost. If -convenient, always recapitulate what you have been perusing, and annex -to it your own sentiments and remarks, to some friend. If you have no -friend at hand, who will be disposed to hear, recollect, and run it over -in your own thoughts. This will be a great assistance to memory. But -whatever be the kind of reading which you undertake, select such authors -as good judges esteem the best, upon the subject. Have a particular -regard to the morality and delicacy of the books you peruse. - -“When you read for mere amusement, (which should seldom happen) be -careful not to corrupt and vitiate your taste by frothy and illiberal -performances, which will degrade the dignity and sully the purity of -your minds. That time is very greatly misspent, which is bestowed in -reading what can yield no instruction. Not a moment’s attention should -be given to books which afford not some degree of improvement. Always -have an eye, therefore, to profit, as well as to pleasure. Remember that -youth is the seed-time of life. You are now to cultivate that knowledge, -which future years must ripen. Free from those domestic cares, which -will engross and occupy your minds, when placed at the head of families, -a most inestimable price is now put into your hands to get wisdom. Now -you may learn; then you must practice. - -“Now, therefore, lay up in store some provision for every exigence, some -embellishment for every station. - -“Look upon Elvira. Her acquirements in a single state have qualified her -for a shining pattern of matronal duties. Her husband’s business abroad -prevents him from attending to domestic avocations; nor need he be -anxious respecting the management of his household affairs. Elvira is -present to every occasion. The superintendence of her family, and the -education of her children is her delight. Capable of instructing them in -every needful branch of science, and of furnishing them with every -requisite endowment, she is, at once, their guide, their example, and -their friend. When her husband returns from the cares and fatigues of -business, with what becoming ease and cheerfulness does she dissipate -the anxiety which sometimes hangs upon his brow, and exhilarate his -spirits by the enlivening charms of rational and refined conversation! -In the entertainment of their friends, how distinguished a part she -sustains! Her powers of mind have been so happily improved, that she is -able to discuss every subject with ease and propriety. To an enlarged -understanding and a cultivated taste, to an extensive knowledge of the -world and an acquaintance with polite literature, she superadds those -amiable virtues, which give society its highest relish; while the -elegance of her manners and the modesty of her deportment are a proof of -the greatness of her mind, and render her esteemed, beloved, and -respected by all who know her. - -“But I flatter myself that each of you, my dear pupils, will be an -Elvira. Then will you do justice to the superior advantages of your -education; be the delight of your friends, and the ornaments of your -country. - -“Religious subjects must, by no means, be neglected in the course of -your reading. Let the BIBLE be the rule of your faith and practice. If -you wish an explanation of any particular passages, seek it from some -judicious and pious friend, or in the writings of some judicious and -learned commentator. But always attend chiefly to those points which -serve to mend the heart, rather than to those knotty, metaphysical -disquisitions, which tend only to perplex the understanding, and involve -the inquirer in such labyrinths of abstrusity, as are above human -comprehension, and beyond human concern. The essential doctrines and -precepts of the gospel are level to every capacity; and upon a life and -conversation governed by these, our hopes, both of present peace and -future glory, must be founded. “He hath shewed thee what is good; and -what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, -and to walk humbly with thy God.” - - - _Tuesday, A. M._ - - WRITING AND ARITHMETIC. - - -The young ladies being seated, this morning, their preceptress addressed -them as follows. - -“Writing is productive both of pleasure and improvement. It is a source -of entertainment which enlarges the mental powers more, perhaps, than -any other. The mind is obliged to exertion for materials to supply the -pen. Hence it collects new stores of knowledge, and is enriched by its -own labors. It imperceptibly treasures up the ideas, which the hand -impresses. An opportunity is furnished of reviewing our sentiments -before they are exposed; and we have the privilege of correcting or -expunging such as are erroneous. For this purpose, you will find it a -good method to collect and write your thoughts upon any subject that -occurs; for by repeatedly arranging and revising your expressions and -opinions, you may daily improve them, and learn to think and reason -properly on every occasion. By this mean you may likewise provide -yourselves with a fund of matter for future use, which, without this -assistance, the memory would not retain. It will be of great service to -note down in your commonplace book such particulars as you may judge -worth remembering, with your own observations upon them. This will be a -kind of amusement which will exercise your thinking powers at the time, -and by recurring to it afterwards, it may afford you many useful hints. - -“The frequent use of the pen is calculated to refine and enlarge your -understandings. Have you any talent at composition? it will be increased -by cultivation. - -“Neglect no opportunity, therefore, which your leisure affords, of -delighting your friends, and accomplishing yourselves by the exercise of -your genius in this way. - -“Thrice blessed are we, the happy daughters of this land of liberty, -where the female mind is unshackled by the restraints of tyrannical -custom, which in many other regions confines the exertions of genius to -the usurped powers of lordly man! Here virtue, merit, and abilities are -properly estimated under whatever form they appear. Here the widely -extended fields of literature court attention; and the American fair are -invited to cull the flowers, and cultivate the expanding laurel. - -“But the species of writing, which is open to every capacity, and -ornamental to every station, is the epistolary. This, between particular -friends, is highly agreeable and interesting. It is a method of -interchanging sentiments, and of enjoying intercourse with those from -whom you are far removed, which is a happy substitute for personal -conversation. In a correspondence of this sort, all affectation, -formality, and bombast should be laid aside. - -“Ease, frankness, simplicity, and sincerity should be its leading -traits. Yet let not your letters be composed of mere sounding terms, and -verbose egotism; but intermix sentiment with expression, in such a -manner as may be improving as well as pleasing. Letters of friendship -should conduce no less to the advantage than entertainment of the person -addressed; and mere cursory letters, of general acquaintance, must, at -least, be written with propriety and accuracy. The formation of the -characters, the spelling, the punctuation, as well as the style and -sense, must be attended to. - -“Never omit noticing the receipt of letters, unless you mean to affront -the writers. Not to answer a letter, without being able to assign some -special reason for the neglect is equally unpardonable as to keep -silence when conversation is addressed to you in person. - -“By habituating yourselves to writing, what may, at first, appear a -task, will become extremely pleasant. Refuse not, then, to improve this -part of your education, especially by your frequent and dutifully -affectionate epistles to your parents, when absent from them. Express -your gratitude for their care, and convince them it has not been lost -upon you. - -“Always employ your pens upon something useful and refined. Let no light -or loose compositions occupy your time and thoughts; but remember that -what you utter in this way is in some measure the picture of your -hearts. Virtue forbid, that this favorite employment should be disgraced -by impurity, indelicacy, or the communication of vicious and ignoble -sentiments! - -“One of the sages of antiquity being asked why he was so long in writing -his opinion, replied, ‘I am writing for futurity.’ - -“Your characters during life, and even when you shall sleep in the dust, -may rest on the efforts of your pens. Beware then how you employ them. -Let not the merit of your attainments in this noble art be degraded by -improper subjects for its exercise. Suffer not the expectation of -secresy to induce you to indulge your pens upon subjects, which you -would blush to have exposed. In this way your characters may be injured, -and your happiness destroyed. - -“Celia and Cecilia were companions at a boarding school. When separated, -they commenced an epistolary correspondence, on which each valued -herself. Their former intimacy which they termed friendship, prompted -them to write with unlimited confidence; and, without the least reserve, -to reveal every dictate of levity and thoughtless folly. They imagined -themselves perfectly secure from the censure of the critic. Their -education had not taught them, that a virtuous mind should shrink even -from ideal indelicacy. Celia was courted by Silvander, a young man of -whom she was passionately fond; but she had art and resolution enough to -conceal her letters from his inspection, though he often solicited a -communication of her correspondence. At length he became impatient for a -perusal of letters which appeared so pleasing and interesting to the -parties, and suspicious that some particular cause directed their -privacy. Influenced by these motives, Silvander bribed a market-boy, who -came from the village where Cecilia lived, and always conveyed the -letters to and from her, to give them first into his hand. How -astonished was he to find the lightness of mind exemplified in them! -Purity of sentiment, delicacy of thought, and refinement of taste were -entirely laid aside; and illiberal wit, frothy jests, double entendres, -and ridiculous love-tales were substituted in their place. His name was -used with so much freedom, and every circumstance relative to his -intercourse, and proposed connexion with Celia, was bandied with such -familiarity, that he was mortified, disgusted, and chagrined, in the -extreme. He had the policy, however, to conceal the discovery till he -had copied a considerable number of Celia’s letters, leaving out -whatever had reference to his own affairs. He then revenged himself by -disclosing his knowledge to her, avowing his indignation at her -weakness, duplicity and folly, and taking an immediate and final leave. -Not content with this, he even circulated her letters among his -acquaintance. This fixed the stamp of ignominy on the correspondents; -and their names and characters were rendered as ridiculous as scandal -and malicious wit could desire. - -“Celia was almost distracted at the loss of her lover; but when she -found the method he had taken to punish her indiscretion, and that her -reputation was thus materially injured, she secluded herself, in a great -measure, from society. Her sensibility received a wound which could -never be healed; and she lived and died in melancholy, regret, and -obscurity. - -“However censurable the unjust and ungenerous conduct of Silvander may -be deemed, yet no adequate excuse can be offered for the young ladies, -who dishonored their pens and their talents by a most improper and -unbecoming use of both. - -“Next to writing, arithmetic usually claims attention. This is -absolutely necessary in every department, and in every stage of life - -Even in youth, the proper arrangement of your expenses will conduce -greatly to your advantage; and when placed at the head of families, it -will be very friendly to the order and economy of your domestic affairs. -But, leaving your matronal conduct to future admonition, many benefits -result from keeping regular accounts in a single state. Your parents -allow you a certain sum for your own private use. Fashion and folly are -always busy in creating innumerable imaginary wants, which must exceed -your finances, if you do not attend to an exact adjustment of your -expenditures. For this purpose, always calculate your immediate and most -necessary demands. Let these be first supplied, and then if your funds -be not exhausted, more superfluous ones may occupy your thoughts. There -is one claim, however, which must not be neglected, and that is CHARITY. -You will, therefore, manage your expenses in such a manner as to reserve -some portion of your income for the necessitous. Should you think your -allowance insufficient to admit the children of want to a share, let -your benevolence plead for the retrenchment of some trifling article -which you may dispense with, without much inconvenience; and the -exquisite pleasure resulting from the bestowment, will more than -counterbalance the sacrifice. In these, and many other particulars, a -knowledge of arithmetic will enable you to conduct the affairs of youth -with ease, advantage, and usefulness. And, perhaps, as you advance in -years, and are called to fill more important stations, you may find it -of still greater utility. - -“The father of Lucinda was in easy circumstances, while he could perform -the duties and enjoy the profits of a lucrative business. He was the -affectionate parent of a numerous family, to whose education and -improvement he attended with unwearied diligence and pleasure; till -repeated losses in trade, and disappointments in his worldly -expectations embarrassed his affairs, depressed his spirits, and -impaired his health. In the midst of these difficulties, his amiable and -beloved wife was removed by death. This trial was greater than he could -support. He sunk under the affliction, and lost his reason. Lucinda was -the eldest of six children, the care of whom, with the melancholy task -of attending and ministering to the necessities of her unhappy father, -devolved on her. She looked upon the wo-fraught scene, and wept. Her -heart was sinking under the weight of grief; and hope, the best soother -of the unfortunate, had nearly abandoned her. She advised with her -friends, who proposed to relieve the family by means of a subscription. -Lucinda thanked them for their proffered kindness, and returned to her -disconsolate habitation. She deliberated on the projected measure; which -she considered must be slow, uncertain, and, at any rate, inadequate to -their future exigences. She could not reconcile herself to the idea of -her father’s depending on charity for subsistence. Yet what could be -done? One resource only remained;—her own exertions. By these she -flattered herself, that she might save the family from suffering want, -and discharge the obligations she owed to her revered parent. Her -education, by which, among other branches of learning, she had been well -instructed in arithmetic, (that being her father’s favorite study) -qualified her for this undertaking. She therefore devoted herself to the -business without delay; examined her father’s accounts, collected -whatever remained that was valuable; sold the superfluous moveables, and -purchased a small stock for trade. All who knew her motives and merit -frequented her shop, and encouraged her by their custom and kindness. By -this mean, together with her judicious management, and engaging -behavior, she increased her business to such a degree, as to support the -family with ease and reputation. - -“Her discreet and dutiful conduct to her father, soon restored him to -his reason. - -“When he found how prudently and affectionately Lucinda had exerted -herself in his behalf, he exclaimed, ‘Many daughters have done -virtuously, but thou excellest them all!’ - -“He resumed his former business, and lived to see his children all well -provided for, and happily settled around him.” - - - _Tuesday, P. M._ - - MUSIC AND DANCING. - -Her pupils having taken their places, Mrs. Williams proceeded. - -“In music and dancing you have made such proficiency that your -performances must be very pleasing to your friends, before whom you -occasionally exhibit. - -“As dancing is an accomplishment merely external, let not the vanity of -excellence in it betray itself in an air of conscious superiority, when -you shine at the ball, and perceive yourselves to have attracted the -attention and applause of the gay assembly. But in the midst of hilarity -and mirth, remember that modesty, diffidence, discretion, and humility -are indispensable appendages of virtue and decency. - -“Music is a talent which nature has bestowed, and which your application -has considerably improved. It has a powerful influence over the heart; -wonderfully soothes and humanizes the passions, and is a source of -refined pleasure to a mind capable of tasting its charms. - -“Never refuse gratifying your friends by the exertion of your abilities -in performing, unless for some very special reason. Though I would not -have you vain of your skill, and officiously forward to display it; yet -the affectation of uncommon modesty, and ignorance, is truly ridiculous. -To plead inability to exercise powers, which you are conscious of -possessing, and for which you wish to be esteemed and honored by others, -is false delicacy, and will never gain admission to the breast where -that which is genuine resides. How perfectly absurd it is for a young -lady, who is politely requested to entertain a company with her musical -talents, to declare them so small that she is really ashamed to expose -herself before such good judges; or that she has neglected playing, or -singing, for some time, and cannot immediately revive her dormant skill; -or that she has forgotten her tunes, or songs; or that she has a bad -cold; (which none but herself perceives,) and is unable to sing; or that -she is loath to begin this amusement, and must insist upon some other -lady’s setting the example; which other lady has, in her turn, an equal -number of excuses! Thus the time of the company is engrossed, and their -pleasure suspended, till a long train of arguments, entreaties, and -compliments are run through, and her vanity fully gratified by the most -flattering and importunate solicitations. - -“Then, elate with pride and self importance, she condescends to grant -their request; not considering how far she has derogated from her own -merit by the futile artifice she has employed; an artifice unworthy of -an ingenuous mind, and disgraceful to any lady who has arrived to years -of discretion. - -“Let us view this evasive manner of seeking compliments a little nearer. -When a person is known to be mistress of this delightful art, what can -be her motive for delaying the gratification of her friends by its -exercise, and refusing a compliance with their wishes, till their -patience is exhausted? I believe that excuses, in this case, are very -seldom sincere. The youthful mind is not insensible to praise, nor -indifferent to the means of obtaining it. - -“Why then should it not be received and increased by a ready and -obliging compliance? A desire to please is usually attended with -success; and for what reason should the power and disposition be -artfully concealed? - -“Always preserve a frankness and sincerity in your actions and designs. -These will add dignity to your condescensions, and gracefulness to your -deportment. - -“Rise superior to those little arts which bespeak the finesse of a -childish folly, or a narrow mind. Do honor to this, as well as to every -other part of your education, by acting conformably to the precepts -which have been given you, the knowledge which you have acquired, and -the opportunities with which you may be furnished for the purpose. - -“Music and dancing, though polite and elegant accomplishments, are, -perhaps, the most fascinating, and, of course, the most dangerous of any -that fall under that description. When indulged to excess, beside -engrossing much time which ought to be employed in the execution of more -necessary and useful designs, they sometimes allure their fond votaries -from that purity and rectitude which are the chief embellishments of the -female character. They lay the mind open to many temptations, and, by -nourishing a frivolous vanity, benumb the nobler powers both of -reflection and action. - -“Levitia was endowed, by the joint influence of nature and art, with -these pleasing charms. Symmetry was perfected in her form; and her voice -was melody itself. Her parents were not in affluent circumstances; yet -their taste led them to distinguish those graces and talents in their -daughter, which they injudiciously flattered themselves might, one day, -raise her to affluence and fame. Hence they spared no pains nor expense, -in their power to bestow, to assist her inclination and gratify her -wishes. As she advanced in years, she assiduously cultivated and -diligently improved those endowments which she had been erroneously -encouraged, and even taught, to consider most valuable. To adorn her -person, regulate her movements, and practise her music, was all her -care. Nor had she a wish beyond the pleasures, which she fancied they -could yield. Her mind resembled a garden, in which the useful plants -were overrun and choked by noxious weeds. Here and there, a gaudy flower -rears its brilliant head, and proudly dares to arrest the eye; while the -delicate and useful lie buried and concealed in the surrounding waste! - -“Flattery was pleasing to her ear, in whatever form it was presented. -The gay and licentious sought her society; and vanity with its attendant -train of follies led her imagination far from the sphere of life which -Providence had assigned her. Her parents saw their own mistake, and were -alarmed at her’s: but, alas! too late were their endeavors to prevent -the mischiefs which impended. They could not supply her unbounded wants; -and therefore to gratify her ruling passion, she deemed means of her own -invention indispensable. Among her admirers was a foreigner, who, -failing of success in his own country, sought a subsistence in ours, -from the stage. He knew Levitia’s talents. These might give her the palm -of applause, and in his way of life, render her conspicuous. This plan -he communicated to her, insidiously offering to become her guardian, and -to put her under the protection of such friends as should defend her -honor, and ensure her success. She was pleased with the project. Wholly -unacquainted with the world, and unsuspicious of the subtle arts of the -deluding libertine, she scrupled not his veracity, but listened to his -insinuating declarations of love and friendship. She was deceived by the -vanity of appearing where her fancied merit would meet with the -encouragement and reward it deserved; and vainly imagining that her -beauty might secure her elevation and affluence, she readily consented -to the fatal experiment, eloped from her father’s house, and became a -professed actress. - -“Her parents were overwhelmed with grief and anxiety, at the discovery; -but to no purpose were all their exertions to reclaim her. She had left -them, no more to return; left them, too, with the heart-rending -reflection, that they themselves had heedlessly contributed to her -disgrace and ruin. But bitter indeed were the fruits of her disobedience -and folly! - -“She made her appearance on the stage. She sung and danced, for which -she was caressed, flattered, and paid. A licentious mode of life -quadrating with the levity of her heart, soon left her a prey to -seduction. Her gaiety and beauty gained her many votaries, and she -became a complete courtezan. - -“In the midst of this career, her mother died of a broken heart, -evidently occasioned by her undutiful and vicious conduct. A sense of -her ingratitude to her parents, and her shameless manner of life struck -her mind, not naturally unfeeling, with such force, as to throw her into -a fever which undermined her constitution, deprived her of her beauty, -ruined her voice, and left her without means of support. Her pretended -lover, finding she could no longer be useful to him, perfidiously -abandoned her to poverty and shame. She returned, like the prodigal, to -her unhappy father, who received, but could not assist her. Her -behavior, with its consequences in the death of her mother, had impaired -his health, depressed his spirits, and rendered him incapable of -providing for himself. - -“She is now despised and avoided by all her former acquaintance, and -must inevitably spend the remainder of her days in wretchedness. - -“Let us turn from this disgusting picture, and behold its contrast in -the amiable Florella. To beauty of person she superadds delicacy, -sensibility, and every noble quality of the mind. Respectful to her -superiors, affable, cheerful, and polite to her equals, and -condescendingly kind to her inferiors, Florella is universally esteemed, -beloved and admired. Of the pleasing accomplishments of music and -dancing she is a consummate mistress. Yet she is superior to the vain -arts of flattery, while the dignity of conscious virtue raises her far -above the affectation of false modesty and diffidence. To please and -oblige those friends who are interested in her happiness, and gratified -by her performances, is her delight. Nor does she think it necessary, by -feigned excuses, to delay the pleasure, which she is able to afford; but -willingly enhances that pleasure by a ready and cheerful compliance. -This she thinks the best return she can make for their kind attention. -Though delighted with these amusements herself, she, nevertheless, -considers them as amusements only; and assiduously cultivates the more -solid branches of her education. These, she is wont to say, may render -me useful and happy, when the voice of music shall be brought low, and -when the sprightly limbs shall become languid and inactive. - -“How happy her parents in her filial duty and affection! How rich the -reward of their care and expense in contributing to her improvements! -How happy Florella in their complacency and love, and in the -consciousness of deserving them! - -“She was, not long since, addressed by a gentleman, who was pleasing to -her fancy; but, determined never to indulge a sentiment of partiality -without the entire approbation of her parents, she referred him to their -decision. For particular reasons, they disapproved of his suit. She -acquiesced without reserve, and immediately dismissed him. Who would not -rather be a resembler of Florella, than a vain, imprudent, and ruined -Levitia? - -“True, indeed, the acquirements and graces of Florella are not -attainable by every one; but the virtues of discretion, modesty, and -kindness are within the reach of the humblest sphere, and the most -moderate abilities.” - - - _Wednesday, A. M._ - - MISCELLANEOUS DIRECTIONS - FOR THE GOVERNMENT OF THE TEMPER AND MANNERS. - -“I shall now,” said Mrs. Williams, “endeavor to sketch out for you the -plan of conduct, which I think will be most conducive to your honor and -happiness while in a single state. Hitherto you have been under the -direction of parents, guardians, and instructors, who have regulated -your deportment, and labored to give you just ideas upon every subject -and occasion. That period is now over. You are now launching into life; -where you will think and act more for yourselves. - -“The path of rectitude, my dear young friends, is narrow and intricate. -Temptations lurk around to beguile your feet astray; and dangers which -appear insurmountable will often arise to affright you from the ways of -virtue. - -“But remember that a crown of honor and happiness awaits the undeviating -pursuit of truth and duty. Let religion be your guide, and discretion -your handmaid. Thus attended, you will escape the snares of youth, and -surmount the perplexing cares of more advanced age. At your entrance on -the stage of action, the allurements of pleasure will spread innumerable -charms to court your acceptance. Beware of their fascinating wiles; and -whatever course you adopt, be sure it is such as will bear the test of -examination and reflection. Let these be the criterion of all your -pursuits and enjoyments. Make it an invariable practice to re-trace the -actions and occurrences of the day, when you retire to rest; to account -with your own hearts for the use and improvement of the past hours; and -rectify whatever you find amiss, by greater vigilance and caution, in -future; to avoid the errors into which you have fallen, and to discharge -the duties incumbent upon you. - -“To neglect this, will be a source of great inadvertencies and failings. - -“To know yourselves, in every particular, must be your constant -endeavor. This knowledge will lead you to propriety and consistency of -action. But this knowledge cannot be obtained without a thorough and -repeated inspection of your various passions, affections, and -propensities. When obtained, however, it will prevent the ill effects of -flattery, by which you will doubtless be endangered, as you advance into -the scenes of fashionable life. It will enable you to distinguish -flattery from that generous praise which is the effusion of a feeling -heart, affected by the perception of real merit. A young lady, unskilled -in the deceitful arts of a giddy world, is very apt to be misled by the -adulation which is offered at the shrine of vanity. She is considered as -a mark for the wit of every coxcomb, who wishes to display his -gallantry. - -“Flattery is a dazzling meteor, which casts a delusive glare before the -eye; and which seduces the imagination, perverts the judgment, and -silences the dictates of sound reason. Flattery is, therefore, the -poison and bane of the youthful mind. It renders the receiver blind to -those defects which she ought to see and rectify, and proud of imaginary -graces which she never yet possessed. Self-knowledge, as before -observed, will facilitate the detection of this disguised adversary, by -enabling you to investigate your real accomplishments and merits. - -“That praise which is the result of deserved approbation from those, -whose good opinion you wish to enjoy, is worthy your attention and -grateful acceptance: but the fulsome compliments and hyperbolical -professions of unmeaning and empty pretenders, calculated only to fill -the imagination with the inflammable air of self-conceit and arrogant -pride, should be rejected with disdain, and cordially despised by every -lady of sense and sentiment, as an insult upon her understanding, and an -indignity to her sensibility. - -“Let it, therefore, be known to those who court your favor by an -ostentatious parade of admiration and obsequiousness, that their -dissimulation and duplicity are discovered, and that you are superior to -such futility. - -“In order to discriminate between flattery and merited praise, -critically examine your own heart and life. By this mean you will -ascertain what is really your due, and what is merely the effect of this -insidious art. But let no ideas of your own endowments, however just, -elate you with an opinion of your superior powers of pleasing. - -“Be not ostentatious of your charms, either of person or mind. Let -modesty, diffidence, and propriety regulate you, in regard to each. -Exalted advantages will render you an object of envy to the weak minded -of your own sex, and of satire to the ill-natured part of the other. -Never obtrude even your real graces and accomplishments upon the world. -The penetrating and judicious will see and applaud them, while retiring -from the gaze of a misjudging and misrepresenting throng. - - “Naked in nothing should a woman be, - But veil her very wit with modesty; - Let man discover; let her not display; - But yield her charms of mind with sweet delay.” - -“Those who are solicitous for beauty should remember that the expression -of the countenance, in which its very essence consists, depends on the -disposition of the mind. - - “What’s female beauty, but an air divine, - Through which the mind’s all gentle graces shine? - These, like the sun, irradiate all between; - The body charms, because the soul is seen. - Hence men are often captives of a face, - They know not why; of no peculiar grace. - Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear; - Some, none resist, tho’ not exceeding fair.” - -Beauty, my dear girls, is indeed a desirable quality. Neither the pen of -the moralist, nor the spleen of the satirist, nor the envy of such as -want it, could ever bring it into contempt or neglect. Yet mere external -beauty is transient as the meteor, and frail as the bubble, which floats -on the surface of the watery element. - -“Behold the disconsolate and despised Flirtilla! and from her fate learn -not to trust in the effects or duration of this adventitious quality. - -“Early in life, Flirtilla was taught that her charms were irresistible; -that she might aspire to an absolute ascendency over the hearts and -passions of her votaries. A superficial, but fashionable education added -the allurements of art to those of person, and rendered her a finished -coquette. - -“Her beauty and the gaiety of her manners gained her numerous admirers, -who swarmed around, like the insect tribe, eager to sip the fragrance of -the equally fair and fading rose. The incense of flattery, in every -form, was her tribute. - -“Elated by this, she gave free scope to her ruling passions, the love of -pleasure and dissipation. Her best days were spent in the chase of -vanity; and she culled the flowers of life, without considering, that -substantial fruit would be required at a more advanced period, as a -substitute for the fading blossoms of youth. Her mind was barren of -improvement, and consequently destitute of resources. - -“She vainly imagined the triumphs of beauty to be permanent, till its -declared enemy, the small-pox, convinced her of the egregious mistake. -By this she found her empire suddenly overturned. The merciless disorder -had reduced her to a level with the generality of her sex, in -appearance, and, in enjoyment far below them. Her glass faithfully -represented this insupportable reduction. Regret and chagrin heightened -the apparent calamity. She was remembered only as the contrast of what -she once had been. Her lovers were disgusted with the change, and sought -more pleasing objects of attention; while men of sentiment could not -find a similarity of disposition, in her, to induce a connexion. - -“Her female acquaintance, who had envied her as a rival, or feared her -as a superior, now insulted her with their pity, or mortified her by -remarks on the surprising alteration in her appearance. - -“Finding no alleviation from society, she retired from the world to -nurse, in solitude, the vexation and disappointment she experienced. - -“View her now, peevish, discontented, and gloomy! Her ideas of pleasure -were centered in that person, which is now neglected; in those -endowments which have now forsaken her forever! - -“Thought she studiously shuns; for she has nothing pleasing to occupy -her reflections, but what is irretrievably lost! - -“Miserable Flirtilla! thou trustedst in vanity, and vanity is thy -recompense! How happy mightest thou have been, even in this change, if -thy heart had been rectified, thy understanding improved, and thy mind -liberally stored with useful sentiments, knowledge, and information! - -“Cultivate, then, my young friends, those dispositions and attainments, -which will yield permanent and real satisfaction, when sickness, -adversity, or age shall have robbed your eyes of their lustre, and -diminished the bloom and sprightliness of your forms. - -“You are doubtless sensible that your happiness, in life, does not -depend so much on your external, as your internal graces. - -“The constitutional temper of your minds was given you by nature; but -reason is added for its regulation. - - “On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail; - Reason the chart; but passion is the gale.” - -“Our passions were certainly implanted for wise and benevolent purposes; -and, if properly directed, may be of great utility. This direction -nature will teach, and education improve. To their precepts we must -implicitly listen, if we would become respectable or contented. - -“Examine yourselves, therefore, with impartial scrutiny. Find out your -particular faults in this respect, and exert your unwearied industry to -amend them. - -“Possibly you may be naturally hasty, passionate, or vindictive. If so, -how wretched, at times, must the indulgence of this temper render you! -When reason, awhile suspended, resumes its empire, and calm reflection -succeeds the riot of passion, how severe must be your self-condemnation, -and how keen your sensations of regret! Perhaps an unkindness of -expression to some particular friend, disrespectful treatment of an -honored superior, ill-timed resentment to a beloved equal, or imperious -and unbecoming severity to a deserving inferior, may give you the most -painful emotions, and degrade you in your own, as well as in the -estimation of every observer! To prevent this evil, accustom yourselves -to check the first risings of anger, and suspend every expression of -displeasure, till you can deliberate on the provocation, and the -propriety of noticing it. It may have been undesigned, and, therefore, -not justly provoking. You may have misunderstood the word, or action of -offence, and inquiry may remove the grounds of your suspicion: or the -person offending may be one with whom prudence and honor require you not -to enter the lists. But if neither of these considerations occur, -reflect a moment, that your own reputation and consequent happiness are -at stake and that to lose the command of yourselves and your passions is -inconsistent with the delicacy of ladies, the moderation of Christians, -and the dignity of rational beings. - -“Let every sally alarm, and excite you to rally and new-discipline your -forces; and to be more strictly on your guard against the assaults of -your foe. - -“The character of Camilla is a pattern worthy of your imitation. While -very young, Camilla was unfortunately deprived of the instruction and -regulating hand of a discreet and judicious mother. Her father was too -much immersed in business to attend to the cultivation of his daughter’s -mind. - -“He gave her the means of a genteel education, praised her excellencies, -and chid her faults, without being at the pains of teaching her how to -amend them. The irritability of her temper he rather indulged, -considering her as a girl of _spirit_, who would make her way in the -world, in spite of obstacles. She was naturally generous, -tender-hearted, and humane; but her temper was as uncontrollable as the -whirlpool, and as impetuous as the wind. Happily for her, she had an -uncommon strength of mind, a ready apprehension, a quick perception, and -a depth of understanding, seldom equalled. She saw her errors, was -conscious of her failings, and a severe sufferer for her faults. But -such was the extreme quickness of her feelings, and so passionate her -resentment of any thing which appeared injurious or affrontive, that she -could not always repress them. She married a gentleman of a similar -temper, and of equal prudence. In the union of such violent spirits, -great harmony could not be presaged. Their passions were lively, their -affections ardent. - - “The honey-moon in raptures flew, - A second brought its transports too; - The third, the fourth, were not amiss; - The fifth was friendship, mixed with bliss; - But ere a twelvemonth passed away, - They found each other made of clay.” - -“Inadvertencies gave offence; frequent altercations arose; both were -tenacious of their rights, and averse to condescension. Camilla saw the -impending danger; she became sensible that the happiness of her life -depended on amendment and caution; she resolved to avoid giving or -taking offence, with the greatest diligence; to suppress every emotion -of anger; and when she thought herself injured, to retire or be silent, -till passion had subsided, and she could regain her calmness. - -“This was a hard task, at first; but perseverance rendered it effectual -to a thorough reformation in each. - -“Her example and pathetic admonitions induced her husband to adopt her -prudent plan. They found their mutual endeavors productive of real -satisfaction, and happiness the reward of their exertions to secure it. - -“To be vindictive is equally, perhaps more fatal to our own, and the -peace of others, than to be passionate. Violent passions of all kinds -are generally transient; but revenge is the offspring of malice, the -parent of discord, and the bane of social love. It is an evidence of a -weak and sickly mind. True greatness will rise superior to this ignoble -spirit, so peculiarly ungraceful in a lady, and inconsistent with that -delicacy and softness, which ought ever to characterize the sex. - -“But an envious temper is, of all others, the most degrading and -miserable. Envy is a malignant poison, which rankles in the heart, and -destroys the inward peace, even while there is an outward appearance of -serenity. That mind, which cannot rejoice in the happiness of others, is -capable of very little in itself. To look with a grudging and evil eye -on the enjoyments of our neighbor, must be a source of perpetual chagrin -and mortification. - -“Envy indulged, is a punishment to its possessor. Eradicate, then, the -first, and every emotion of so corroding and destructive a nature; and -endeavor to excel only by that virtuous emulation, which is productive -of improvement and respectability. - -“A kind, compassionate, benevolent, humane disposition is an invaluable -treasure. It will render you blessings to society, and objects of -universal esteem. - - “In _you_ ’tis graceful to dissolve at wo; - With every motion, every word, to wave - Quick o’er the kindling cheek the ready blush; - And from the smallest violence to shrink.”— - -“This amiable temper, however, may sometimes degenerate into weakness. - -“Prudence should be exercised, even in the indulgence of the most -engaging qualities. In the progress of life, occasions may call for that -resolution and fortitude, which admit not of apparent softness; but such -occasions very seldom occur. - -“How alluring are the charms of sympathy and charity! Happy are they who -always feel the one, and have power and inclination to exemplify the -other! - - “The diamond and the ruby’s blaze - Dispute the palm with beauty’s queen; - Not beauty’s queen demands such praise, - Devoid of virtue if she’s seen. - But the soft tear in pity’s eye - Outshines the diamond’s brightest beam, - And the sweet blush of modesty - More beauteous than the ruby’s seen.” - - - _Wednesday, P. M._ - - DRESS. - -“Dress,” continued Mrs. Williams to her re-assembled and attentive -pupils, “is an important article of female economy. By some it is -doubtless considered as too essential. This is always the case, when it -becomes the ruling passion, and every other excellence is made -subordinate to it. A suitable attention to the etiquette of appearance -is necessary to render us respectable in the eyes of the world and -discovers an accommodating disposition, which is, at once, engaging and -useful in the commerce of society. Females are taxed with being -peculiarly attached to, and captivated by the glare of splendor and -show. But I believe superficial minds are not confined to sex. Whatever -form they actuate, to beautify and adorn it will be the principal -object. - -“A certain species of gaiety and airiness is becoming in youth. Young -ladies, therefore, act perfectly in character, when, under proper -restraint, they indulge their taste in the decoration of their persons. -But they should be especially careful that their taste be correct; -consistent with the modest delicacy which is the glory and ornament of -woman. - -“It is laudable to follow fashions, so far as they are governed by these -rules; but whenever they deviate, quit them with express disapprobation -and disgust. Any assumptions of the masculine habit are unbecoming. -Dress and manners should be correspondent; and the engaging softness and -artless simplicity, which grace my pupils, must be quite inconsistent -with the air and attire of the other sex. - -“A gaudy and fantastical mode of decoration is by no means a -recommendation. It bespeaks a lightness of mind and a vanity of -disposition, against which a discreet and modest girl should guard with -the utmost vigilance. Extravagance is a great error, even where fortune -will allow the means of supporting it. Many are the claims which the -children of affliction and want have upon the superfluous plenty of the -rich. How much better expended would some part of their redundance be, -in relieving the necessities of such, than in decorating their own -persons, with every ornament which art can contrive to create expense! - -“Neatness and propriety should be the main objects; for loveliness needs -no foreign aid to give it a passport. Neatness is too often connected -with the idea of a prudish singularity; but no gaudiness of apparel, no -richness of attire, no modishness of appearance can be an equivalent for -it. Propriety is that garb which becomes our situation and circumstances -in life. There certainly ought to be a difference between different ages -and conditions, in this respect. Many articles, ornamental to Miss in -her teens, would appear absurd, fantastical, and ridiculous in maturer -years. Neither should the matronal robes, and the close cap hide the -natural ringlets, and easy shapes of the blooming girl. - -“It is a very false taste which induces people in dependent and narrow -circumstances, to imitate the expensive mode of dress which might be -very decent for those who move in a higher sphere. - -“To endeavor to conceal indigence by the affectation of extravagance, is -committing a great offence, both against ourselves, and the community to -which we belong. The means of support should always be attended to. A -conformity to these will render you more respected for prudence, than a -deviation for the sake of show without substance, can make you admired. - -“Louisa and Clarinda are striking examples. They were both the daughters -of reputable parents, whose situations in the world were easy and -comfortable, though not affluent. They were able to give their children -a good education, but no other portion. Gay, volatile, and ambitious, -Louisa was the votary of fashion. A superior in dress excited the -keenest sensations of envy in her bosom; and a rival in appearance gave -her unspeakable mortification. Dissatisfied with her natural charms, -cosmetics and paints added to her expenses, and betrayed her folly. She -had many professed admirers, who found her a willing dupe to flattery, -and who raised her vanity by praising her excellent taste. - -“Leander, a gentleman of liberal education, superior merit, and handsome -property, cast his eye around for a companion to share and enjoy these -advantages with him. Louisa caught his attention. The elegance of her -person, and splendor of her appearance, charmed his imagination, and -inspired the idea of a fortune sufficient to support her expensive style -of living. He paid his addresses and was received with the most -flattering encouragement. But how great was his disappointment, when he -discovered the smallness of her resources, and the imprudence of her -management! This, said he to himself, will never do for me. Were my -income far superior to what it is, it would not be adequate to such -unbounded extravagance. Besides, where so little economy is practised, -while under parental government, what must be the consequence of that -unlimited indulgence, which the confidence due to a wife demands? Were I -to abridge her expenses, and endeavor to rectify her fantastical taste, -it would doubtless foment dissension, discord, and animosity, which must -terminate in wretchedness. He resolved, however, to try her real -disposition, by gently hinting his disapprobation of her gaiety. This -she resented; and a rupture, which ended in a final separation, ensued. -She found, too late, the value of the man, whom she had slighted; and -ever after regretted that folly which had irretrievably alienated his -affections. - -“The modesty and neatness of Clarinda’s garb next caught Leander’s eye. -Conversing with her on the subject of dress, the justness of her -sentiments gave him the highest ideas of the rectitude and innocence of -her mind. A costly article was offered for her purchase; but she refused -it. It would not become me, said she, nor any other person who has not -an affluent fortune. If I had a sufficiency to buy it, I would procure -something more simple and necessary for myself; and the overplus might -render an object of distress contented and happy. - -“Yet was Clarinda always elegantly neat; always genteelly fashionable. -Frugality and economy, free from profusion and extravagance, enabled her -to indulge her own taste entirely; and while she enjoyed that, she -repined not at the fancied superiority of others. Leander found her all -he wished, in appearance; all he hoped for, in reality. As their tastes -were correspondent, and their highest aim, when united, to please each -other, they were not dependent on the breath of fashion for their -happiness. A compliance with its forms did not elate their pride, nor a -departure from them, fill their hearts with peevishness and discontent.” - - - _Thursday, A. M._ - - POLITENESS. - -“Still more important than your habit, is your air and deportment. It is -not sufficient that these are pleasing to the eye of the superficial -observer. Your behavior and conversation must be uniformly governed by -the laws of politeness, discretion, and decorum. Else you will be -disgusting to people of refinement; and the judicious and discerning -will discover the weakness of your minds, notwithstanding the showy -ornaments, intended to conceal it from public view. - -“Inattention in company is a breach of good manners. Indeed, it is a -downright insult; being neither more nor less, than declaring that you -have not the least respect for any who are present. Either you do not -value their good opinion, or you have something more important than -their conversation to occupy your minds. - -“You should always be attentive to those with whom you are conversant, -let their rank and standing be what they may. Your superiors will esteem -you for your respectful treatment of them; your equals will love you for -your kindness and familiarity; your inferiors will respect you for your -condescension and meekness. - -“Attention in company will be advantageous to yourselves. Like the -industrious bee, which sips honey from every plant, you may derive some -benefit or instruction from all kinds of society. Some useful remark or -information; some sentiment which may allure you to the practice of -virtue, or deter you from a vicious perpetration, may repay your labor, -and be serviceable through life. - -“But should there be no other motive than that of pleasing your -associates, and rendering them happy, by making yourselves agreeable, it -may be considered as a sufficient inducement to the practice of this -branch of good-breeding. Many girls, in the thoughtless levity of their -hearts, divert themselves at the expense of others; and, with the utmost -glee, point out any thing peculiar in the appearance, words, or actions -of some one in the company, whom they select for a subject of merriment -and ridicule. This, by shrewd looks, ironical gestures, or tittering -whispers, is kept up, to the great mortification of the unhappy victim, -and to the reproach and dishonor of the offenders. Such conduct is a -breach, not only of the rules of common civility, but of humanity; -besides being directly repugnant to the precept of doing to others as we -would that they should do to us. - -“Be particularly careful, then, not to mortify, or give pain to an -inferior. - -“Let the question, ‘who maketh thee to differ?’ suppress every emotion -of ridicule, contempt, or neglect; and induce you to raise and encourage -depressed merit by your notice and approbation. - -“As far as propriety, delicacy, and virtue will allow, conform to the -taste, and participate in the amusements and conversation of the company -into which you have fallen. If they be disagreeable to you, avoid a -supercilious avowal of your dislike. This, instead of reforming, would -probably give them a disgust to you, and perhaps subject you to -affronts. Yet where a disapprobating word or hint may be seasonable, -neglect not the opportunity of contributing to their benefit and -amendment. - -“Are you conscious of superior advantages, either mental or external, -make no ostentatious display of them. Vanity too often leads young -ladies to obtrude their acquirements on the eyes of observers, -inconsiderately apprehending they may otherwise be unnoticed. Such -forwardness always subjects them to censure, ridicule, and envy; the -expressions of which destroy that self-approbation which retiring merit -invariably enjoys. However, exert that dignity of virtue which will -render you independent of caprice, calumny, and unprovoked satire. - -“Make no ungenerous, or ill-natured remarks on the company, or on the -individuals of which it is composed. - -“If you dislike them, avoid them in future. If you witness errors, -faults, or improprieties, conceal, or at least extenuate them, as much -as possible. - -“Make just allowances for those who may differ from you in opinion; and -be cautious never to misrepresent, or circulate what appears amiss to -you, and must, if exposed, be injurious to others. Charity hides a -multitude of faults. Certainly then, charity will never aggravate nor -create them. - -“To give currency to a report, which tends to the disadvantage and -dishonor of another, is defaming; and defamation is a species of -cruelty, which can never be expiated. - -“Of this the unhappy, though imprudent Eudocia, is an exemplification. - -“Eudocia was young, gay, and charming. A levity of disposition, which -the innocence of her heart attempted not to restrain, sometimes gave the -tongue of slander pretence to aim its envenomed shafts at her character, -and to misrepresent her sprightliness. - -“Independent in fortune; still more so in mind, calumny gave her no -pain, while she was conscious of the rectitude of her intentions. - -“Leontine was a gentleman of property; agreeable in his person and -manners; of strict honor, and extremely tenacious of it; but of a severe -and unforgiving temper. He paid his addresses to Eudocia; was accepted, -approved, and beloved. Yet, though he had gained her affections, he had -not sufficient influence to regulate her conduct, and repress her -gaiety. Her fondness for show and gallantry, in some instances, induced -her to countenance the attentions, and receive the flattery, of men, -whose characters were exceptionable, in Leontine’s estimation. He -remonstrated against her imprudence, and gave her his ideas of female -delicacy. She laughed at his gravity, and rallied him on his implicit -subjection to the opinions of others. - -“Towards the close of a fine day, Eudocia rambled along a retired road, -to enjoy the air. She was alone; but the hope of meeting her beloved -Leontine, whom she expected that evening, imperceptibly led her beyond -her intended excursion. The rattling of a carriage caused her to stop; -and, thinking it to be Leontine’s, she approached it before she -perceived her mistake. A gentleman of an elegant appearance alighted and -accosting her politely, expressed his surprise at finding her so far -from home without an attendant. She found it was Florio, with whom she -had a slight acquaintance, having once met with him in company. She -frankly owned her motive for walking thus far; and refused his -invitation to return in his carriage. He renewed his request; and his -importunity, seconded by her fatigue, at last prevailed. At this moment -the detracting Lavina passed by. She saw Eudocia, and with a sneering -smile, wished her a good night. Eudocia was unconscious of fault, and -therefore fearless of censure. But the artful Florio, desirous of -protracting the pleasure of her company, took a circuitous route, which -considerably increased the distance to her father’s house. However, he -conveyed her safely home, though not so soon as she wished. She found -that Leontine had been there, and had gone to visit a friend; but would -soon return. Leontine was just seated at his friend’s, when Lavina -entered. - -“She told the circle, that Florio had just passed her, and that he had -company she little expected to see with him. They inquired if it was his -former mistress? No, said she, he discarded her some time ago, and if we -may judge by appearances, has chosen a new one. Upon being asked who, -she presumed to name Eudocia. Every countenance expressed surprise and -regret. In Leontine, rage and resentment were visibly depicted. He rose, -and stepping hastily to Lavina, told her he was a party concerned, and -demanded an explanation of what she had insinuated. She perceived that -she had given offence, and endeavored to excuse herself; but he -resolutely told her that no evasions would avail; that he insisted on -the real truth of her scandalous report. Finding him thus determined, -she related the simple fact of seeing Eudocia in a carriage with Florio, -who was a known libertine, and accustomed to the society of loose women. -Leontine asked her how she came to associate the ideas she had mentioned -with Eudocia’s name? She replied that the lightness of her behavior had -sometimes rendered her censurable; and she thought this instance, in -particular, authorised suspicion. Leontine could not deny that she was -culpable in appearance; yet made answer, that though scandal might feast -on the failings of virtue, he believed Eudocia’s innocence much purer, -and her heart much better than her detractors’; and taking his hat, he -wished the company a good evening, and left them. - -“His passions were on fire. He could not comprehend the mysterious -conduct of Eudocia. Her absence from home, at a time when he expected -her to receive him, and her being seen at a distance in company with a -professed debauchee, were a labyrinth which he could not explore. Though -he doubted not Eudocia’s honor, yet her folly and imprudence, in -subjecting her character to suspicion and reproach, he thought -unpardonable. His resentment determined him to break the proposed -connexion immediately; and, lest his love should get the better of his -resolution, he went directly to the house. - -“As he could not command his temper, he appeared extremely agitated, and -angrily told Eudocia that she had caused him great uneasiness; and that -he came to claim the satisfaction of knowing, why she had avoided his -society, and made an assignation with a man who had involved her in -infamy? Eudocia was astonished and justly offended at this address. With -all the dignity of conscious innocence, she replied, that as yet he had -no right to challenge an account of her conduct; but for her own sake, -she would condescend to give it. This she did by a faithful and -undisguised relation of facts. She then asked him if he was satisfied. -He answered, No. For, said he, though you have cleared yourself of -guilt, in my apprehension, you will find it very difficult to free your -character from the blemish it has received in the opinion of the world. -Saying this he told her, that however highly he esteemed her, so -opposite were their dispositions, that they must often be at variance; -and so nice was his sense of honor, that his wife like Cæsar’s must not -only be virtuous, but unsuspected. She rejoined, that his sentiments -were apparent; and if what he then expressed were his opinion of her, it -was best they should part. - -“Some further conversation passed; when promising to call, the next day, -and satisfy her parents, and wishing Eudocia all possible happiness in -life, he took his leave. - -“The impropriety of her conduct, and her losing the affections of a man -she too ardently loved, together with the cruel treatment she had just -received from him, overwhelmed her with grief, and produced the most -violent emotions of regret. She walked her room in all the anguish of -disappointed hope. Her parents used every argument to soothe and console -her, but in vain. - -“She yielded to their persuasions so far as to retire to bed; but rest -she found not; and the morning presented her in a burning fever. -Leontine called in the course of the day; but the friends of Eudocia -refused to see him. An account of her disorder had roused him to a sense -of his rashness, and he begged to be admitted to her chamber; but this -she utterly denied. - -“Her fever left her; but the disease of her mind was beyond the power of -medicine. A settled melancholy still remains; and she lives the victim -of calumniation! - -“To detract from the merit of others, beside the want of politeness -which it betrays, and beside the injuries which it always occasions, is -extremely impolitic. It is to confess your inferiority, and to -acknowledge a wish not to rise to greater respectability; but to bring -down those about you to your own level! Ill-natured remarks are the -genuine offspring of an envious and grovelling mind. - -“Call yourselves to a severe account, therefore, whenever you have been -guilty of this degrading offence; and always check the first impulses -towards it. - -“Accustom yourselves to the exercise of sincerity, benevolence and good -humor, those endearing virtues, which will render you beloved and -respected by all. - -“To bestow your attention in company, upon trifling singularities in the -dress, person, or manners of others, is spending your time to little -purpose. From such a practice you can derive neither pleasure nor -profit; but must unavoidably subject yourselves to the imputation of -incivility and malice.” - - - _Thursday, P. M._ - - AMUSEMENTS. - -“Amusement is impatiently desired, and eagerly sought by young ladies in -general. Forgetful that the noblest entertainment arises from a placid -and well cultivated mind, too many fly from themselves, from thought and -reflection, to fashionable dissipation, or what they call pleasure, as a -mean of beguiling the hours which solitude and retirement render -insupportably tedious. - -“An extravagant fondness for company and public resorts is incompatible -with those domestic duties, the faithful discharge of which ought to be -the prevailing object of the sex. In the indulgence of this disposition, -the mind is enervated, and the manners corrupted, till all relish for -those enjoyments, which being simple and natural, are best calculated to -promote health, innocence, and social delight, is totally lost. - -“It is by no means amiss for youth to seek relaxation from severer cares -and labors, in a participation of diversions, suited to their age, sex, -and station in life. But there is great danger of their lively -imaginations’ hurrying them into excess, and detaching their affections -from the ennobling acquisitions of moral improvement, and refined -delicacy. Guard, then against those amusements which have the least -tendency to sully the purity of your minds. - -“Loose and immoral books; company, whose manners are licentious, however -gay and fashionable; conversation which is even tinctured with -profaneness or obscenity; plays in which the representation is immodest, -and offensive to the ear of chastity; indeed, pastimes of every -description, from which no advantage can be derived, should not be -countenanced; much less applauded. Why should those things afford -apparent satisfaction in a crowd which would call forth the blush of -indignation in more private circles? This question is worthy the serious -attention of those ladies, who at the theatre, can hardly restrain their -approbation of expressions and actions, which at their houses, would be -intolerably rude and indecent, in their most familiar friends! - -“Cards are so much the taste of the present day, that to caution my -pupils against the too frequent use of them may be thought old fashioned -in the extreme. I believe it, however, to be a fascinating game, which -occupies the time, without yielding any kind of pleasure or profit. As -the satirist humorously observes, - - “The love of gaming is the worst of ills; - With ceaseless storms the blacken’d soul it fills; - Inveighs at Heaven, neglects the ties of blood; - Destroys the power and will of doing good; - Kills health, pawns honor, plunges in disgrace; - And, what is still more dreadful—spoils your face.” - -“One thing at least is certain; it entirely excludes all rational -conversation. That delightful interchange of sentiment, which the social -meeting of friends is calculated to afford and from which many -advantages might be derived, is utterly excluded. - -“Reading, writing, drawing, needle-work, dancing, music, walking, -riding, and conversation are amusements well adapted to yield pleasure -and utility. From either of these, within proper bounds, there is no -danger of injury to the person or mind; though to render even our -diversions agreeable, they must be enjoyed with moderation, and -variously and prudently conducted. Such as are peculiarly exhilarating -to the spirits, however innocent in themselves, should be more -cautiously and sparingly indulged. - -“When once the mind becomes too much relaxed by dissipating pastimes, it -is proportionably vitiated, and negligent of those nice attentions to -the rules of reserve and decorum which ought never to be suspended. -Intoxicating is the full draught of pleasure to the youthful mind; and -fatal are the effects of unrestrained passions. - -“Flavia was the daughter of a gentleman, whose political principles -obliged him to leave his country at the commencement of the American -revolution. At that time she was at nurse in a neighboring village; -between which and the metropolis all communication being cut off, he was -reduced to the necessity of leaving her to the mercy of those to whom -she was entrusted. Having received her from pecuniary motives only, they -no sooner found themselves deprived of the profits of their labor and -care, than they sought relief by an application to the town for her -support. A wealthy farmer in the vicinity, who had often seen and been -pleased with the dawning charms of Flavia, pitied her condition, and -having no children of his own, resolved to shelter her from the -impending storm, till she could be better provided for. At his house she -was brought up in a homely, though comfortable manner. The good man and -his wife were excessively fond of her, and gave her every instruction -and advantage in their power. Plain truths were liberally inculcated, -and every exertion made to give her a habit of industry and good nature. -Flavia requited their kindness by an obliging and cheerful, a docile and -submissive deportment. As she advanced in years, she increased in -beauty. Her amiable disposition rendered her beloved, and her personal -accomplishments made her admired by all the village swains. The -approbating smile of Flavia was the reward of their toils, and the favor -of her hand in the rustic dance was emulously sought. - -“In this state, Flavia was happy. Health and innocence were now her -portion; nor had ambition as yet taught her to sigh for pleasure beyond -the reach of her attainment. - -“But the arrival of her father, who had been permitted to return, and -re-possess the estate which he had abandoned, put a period to the -simplicity and peace of Flavia’s mind. He sought and found her; and -though sensible of his obligations to her foster-parents for snatching -her from want and distress, still he could not prevail on himself to -make so great a sacrifice to gratitude as they wished, by permitting his -daughter to spend her days in obscurity. The lively fancy of Flavia was -allured by the splendid promises and descriptions of her father; and she -readily consented to leave the friends of her childhood and youth, and -explore the walks of fashionable life. - -“When she arrived in town, what new scenes opened upon the dazzled eyes -of the admiring, and admired Flavia! - -“Wealth, with its attendant train of splendid forms and ceremonies, -courted her attention, and every species of dissipating amusement, -sanctioned by the name of pleasure, beguiled the hours and charmed the -imagination of the noviciate. Each enchanting scene she painted to -herself in the brightest colours; and her experienced heart promised her -happiness without allay. Flattery gave her a thousand charms which she -was hitherto unconscious of possessing, and the obsequiousness of the -gaudy train around raised her vanity to the highest pitch of arrogance -and pride. Behold Flavia, now, launched into the whirlpool of -fashionable folly. Balls, plays, cards, and parties engross every -portion of her time. - -“Her father saw, too late, the imprudence of his unbounded indulgence; -and his egregious mistake, in so immediately reversing her mode of life, -without first furnishing her mind with sufficient knowledge and strength -to repel temptation. He endeavored to regulate and restrain her conduct; -but in vain. She complained of this, as an abridgment of her liberty, -and took advantage of his doating fondness to practise every excess. -Involved in expenses (of which losses at play composed a considerable -part) beyond her power to defray, in this embarrassing dilemma, she was -reduced to the necessity of accepting the treacherous offer of Marius to -advance money for the support of her extravagance. Obligated by his -apparent kindness, she could not refuse the continuance of his -acquaintance, till his delusive arts had obtained the reward he proposed -to himself, in the sacrifice of her honor. At length she awoke to a -trembling sense of her guilt, and found it fatal to her peace, -reputation, and happiness. - -“Wretched Flavia! no art could conceal thy shame! The grief of her mind, -her retirement from company, and the alteration in her appearance, -betrayed her to her father’s observation. Highly incensed at the -ingratitude and baseness of her conduct, he refused to forgive her; but -sent her from the ensnaring pleasures of the town, to languish out the -remainder of life in solitude and obscurity.” - - - _Friday, A. M._ - - FILIAL AND FRATERNAL AFFECTION. - -“The filial and fraternal are the first duties of a single state. The -obligations you are under to your parents cannot be discharged, but by a -uniform and cheerful obedience; an unreserved and ready compliance with -their wishes, added to the most diligent attention to their ease and -happiness. The virtuous and affectionate behaviour of children is the -best compensation, in their power, for that unwearied care and -solicitude which parents, only, know. Upon daughters, whose situation -and employments lead them more frequently into scenes of domestic -tenderness; who are often called to smooth the pillow of sick and aged -parents, and to administer with a skilful and delicate hand the cordial, -restorative to decaying nature, and endearing sensibility, and a dutiful -acquiescence in the dispositions, and even peculiarities of those from -whom they have derived existence, are indispensably incumbent. - -“Such a conduct will yield a satisfaction of mind more than equivalent -to any little sacrifices of inclination or humour which may be required -at your hands. - -“Pope, among all his admired poetry, has not six lines more beautifully -expressive than the following: - - “Me, let the pious office long engage, - To rock the cradle of declining age; - With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath, - Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death; - Explore the thought, explain the asking eye, - And keep awhile one parent from the sky!” - -“Next in rank and importance to filial piety, is fraternal love. This is -a natural affection which you cannot too assiduously cultivate. How -delightful to see children of the same family dwell together in unity; -promoting each other’s welfare, and emulous only to excel in acts of -kindness and good will. Between brothers and sisters the connexion is -equally intimate and endearing. There is such a union of interests, and -such an undivided participation of enjoyments, that every sensible and -feeling mind must value the blessings of family friendship and peace. - -“Strive, therefore, my dear pupils, to promote them, as objects which -deserve your particular attention; as attainments which will not fail -richly to reward your labour. - -“Prudelia, beside other amiable endowments of person and mind, possessed -the most lively sensibility, and ardent affections. - -“The recommendations of her parents, united to her own wishes, had -induced her to give her hand to Clodius, a gentleman of distinguished -merit. He was a foreigner; and his business required his return to his -native country. - -“Prudelia bid a reluctant adieu to her friends, and embarked with him. -She lived in affluence, and was admired and caressed by all that knew -her, while a lovely family was rising around her. Yet these pleasing -circumstances and prospects could not extinguish or alienate that -affection, which still glowed in her breast for the natural guardians -and companions of her childhood and youth. - -“With the deepest affliction she heard the news of her father’s death, -and the embarrassed situation in which he had left his affairs. She was -impatient to console her widowed mother, and to minister to her -necessities. For these purposes, she prevailed on her husband to consent -that she should visit her, though it was impossible for him to attend -her. With all the transport of dutiful zeal, she flew to the arms of her -bereaved parent. But how great was her astonishment and grief, when told -that her only sister had been deluded by an affluent villain, and by his -insidious arts, seduced from her duty, her honor, and her home! The -emotions of pity, indignation, regret, and affection, overwhelmed her, -at first; but recollecting herself, and exerting all her fortitude, she -nobly resolved, if possible, to snatch the guilty, yet beloved Myra, -from ruin, rather than revenge her injured family by abandoning her to -the infamy she deserved. To this intent she wrote her a pathetic letter, -lamenting her elopement, but entreating her, notwithstanding, to return -and receive her fraternal embrace. But Myra, conscious of her crime, and -unworthiness of her sister’s condescension and kindness, and above all, -dreading the superiority of her virtue, refused the generous invitation. -Prudelia was not thus to be vanquished in her benevolent undertaking. -She even followed her to her lodgings, and insisted on an interview. -Here she painted, in the most lively colours, the heinousness of her -offence, and the ignominy and wretchedness that awaited her. Her -affection allured, her reasoning convinced her backsliding sister. Upon -the promise of forgiveness from her mother, Myra consented to leave her -infamous paramour, and re-trace the paths of rectitude and virtue. - -“Her seducer was absent on a journey. She, therefore, wrote him a -farewell letter, couched in terms of sincere penitence for her -transgression, and determined resolution of amendment in future, and -left the house. Thus restored and reconciled to her friends, Myra -appeared in quite another character. - -“Prudelia tarried with her mother till she had adjusted her affairs, and -seen her comfortably settled and provided for. Then taking her reclaimed -sister with her, she returned to her anxiously expecting family. The -uprightness and modesty of Myra’s conduct, ever after, rendered her -universally esteemed, though the painful consciousness of her defection -was never extinguished in her own bosom. - -“A constant sense of her past misconduct depressed her spirits, and cast -a gloom over her mind; yet she was virtuous, though pensive, during the -remainder of her life. - -“With this, and other salutary effects in view, how necessary, how -important are filial and fraternal affection!” - - - _Friday, P. M._ - - FRIENDSHIP. - -“Friendship is a term much insisted on by young people; but, like many -others more frequently used than understood. A friend, with girls in -general, is an intimate acquaintance, whose taste and pleasures are -similar to their own; who will encourage, or at least connive at their -foibles and faults, and communicate with them every secret; in -particular those of love and gallantry, in which those of the other sex -are concerned. By such friends their errors and stratagems are flattered -and concealed, while the prudent advice of real friendship is neglected, -till they find too late, how fictitious a character, and how vain a -dependence they have chosen. - -“Augusta and Serena were educated at the same school, resided in the -same neighborhood, and were equally volatile in their tempers, and -dissipated in their manners. Hence every plan of amusement was concerted -and enjoyed together. At the play, the ball, the card-table and every -other party of pleasure, they were companions. - -“Their parents saw that this intimacy strengthened the follies of each; -and strove to disengage their affections, that they might turn their -attention to more rational entertainments, and more judicious advisers. -But they gloried in their friendship, and thought it a substitute for -every other virtue. They were the dupes of adulation, and the votaries -of coquetry. - -“The attentions of a libertine, instead of putting them on their guard -against encroachments, induced them to triumph in their fancied -conquests, and to boast of resolution sufficient to shield them from -delusion. - -“Love, however, which with such dispositions, is the pretty play-thing -of imagination, assailed the tender heart of Serena. A gay youth, with -more wit than sense, more show than substance, more art than honesty, -took advantage of her weakness to ingratiate himself into her favour, -and persuade her they could not live without each other. Augusta was the -confident of Serena. She fanned the flame, and encouraged her resolution -of promoting her own felicity, though at the expense of every other -duty. Her parents suspected her amour, remonstrated against the man, and -forbade her forming any connexion with him, on pain of their -displeasure. She apparently acquiesced; but flew to Augusta for counsel -and relief. Augusta soothed her anxiety, and promised to assist her in -the accomplishment of all her wishes. She accordingly contrived means -for a clandestine intercourse, both personal and epistolary. - -“Aristus was a foreigner, and avowed his purpose of returning to his -native country, urging her to accompany him. Serena had a fortune, -independent of her parents, left her by a deceased relation. This, with -her hand, she consented to give to her lover, and to quit a country, in -which she acknowledged but one friend. Augusta praised her fortitude, -and favored her design. She accordingly eloped, and embarked. Her -parents were almost distracted by her imprudent and undutiful conduct, -and their resentment fell on Augusta, who had acted contrary to all the -dictates of integrity and friendship, in contributing to her ruin; for -ruin it proved. Her ungrateful paramour, having rioted on the property -which she bestowed, abandoned her to want and despair. She wrote to her -parents, but received no answer. She represented her case to Augusta, -and implored relief from her friendship; but Augusta alleged that she -had already incurred the displeasure of her family on her account and -chose not again to subject herself to censure by the same means. - -“Serena at length returned to her native shore, and applied in person to -Augusta, who coolly told her that she wished no intercourse with a -vagabond, and then retired. Her parents refused to receive her into -their house; but from motives of compassion and charity, granted her a -small annuity, barely sufficient to keep her and her infant from want. - -“Too late she discovered her mistaken notions of friendship; and learned -by sad experience, that virtue must be its foundation, or sincerity and -constancy can never be its reward. - -“Sincerity and constancy are essential ingredients in virtuous -friendship. It invariably seeks the permanent good of its object; and in -so doing, will advise, caution and reprove, with all the frankness of -undissembled affection. In the interchange of genuine friendship, -flattery is utterly excluded. Yet, even in the most intimate connexions -of this kind, a proper degree of respect, attention and politeness must -be observed. You are not so far to presume on the partiality of -friendship, as to hazard giving offence, and wounding the feelings of -persons, merely because you think their regard for you will plead your -excuse, and procure your pardon. Equally cautious should you be, of -taking umbrage at circumstances which are undesignedly offensive. - -“Hear the excellent advice of the wise son of Sirach, upon this subject: - -“Admonish thy friend; it may be he hath not done it; and if he have done -it, that he do it no more. Admonish thy friend; it may be he hath not -said it; and if he have, that he speak it not again. Admonish thy -friend; for many times it is a slander; and believe not every tale. -There is one that slippeth in his speech, but not from his heart; and -who is he that offendeth not with his tongue?” - -“Be not hasty in forming friendships; but deliberately examine the -principles, disposition, temper and manners, of the person you wish to -sustain this important character. Be well assured that they are -agreeable to your own, and such as merit your entire esteem and -confidence, before you denominate her your friend. You may have many -general acquaintances, with whom you are pleased and entertained; but in -the chain of friendship there is a still closer link. - - “Reserve will wound it, and distrust destroy, - Deliberate on all things with thy friend: - But since friends grow not thick on every bough - Nor ev’ry friend unrotten at the core, - First on thy friend, deliberate with thyself: - Pause, ponder, first: not eager in the choice, - Nor jealous of the chosen: fixen, fix: - Judge before friendship: then confide till death.” - -“But if you would have friends, you must show yourselves friendly; that -is, you must be careful to act the part you wish from another. If your -friend have faults, mildly and tenderly represent them to her; but -conceal them as much as possible from the observation of the world. -Endeavor to convince her of her errors, to rectify her mistakes, and to -confirm and increase every virtuous sentiment. - -“Should she so far deviate, as to endanger her reputation and happiness; -and should your admonitions fail to reclaim her, become not, like -Augusta, an abettor of her crimes. It is not the part of friendship to -hide transactions which will end in the ruin of your friend. Rather -acquaint those who ought to have the rule over her of her intended -missteps, and you will have discharged your duty; you will merit, and -very probably may afterwards receive her thanks. - -“Narcissa and Florinda were united in the bonds of true and generous -friendship. Narcissa was called to spend a few months with a relation in -the metropolis, where she became acquainted with, and attached to a man -who was much her inferior; but whose specious manners and appearance -deceived her youthful heart, though her reason and judgment informed -her, that her parents would disapprove the connexion. She returned home, -the consciousness of her fault, the frankness which she owed to her -friend, and her partiality to her lover, wrought powerfully upon her -mind, and rendered her melancholy. Florinda soon explored the cause, and -warmly remonstrated against her imprudence in holding a moment’s -intercourse with a man, whom she knew, would be displeasing to her -parents. She searched out his character, and found it far inadequate to -Narcissa’s merit. This she represented to her in its true colours, and -conjured her not to sacrifice her reputation, her duty and her -happiness, by encouraging his addresses; but to no purpose were her -expostulations. Narcissa avowed the design of permitting him to solicit -the consent of her parents, and the determination of marrying him -without it, if they refused. - -“Florinda was alarmed at this resolution; and, with painful anxiety, saw -the danger of her friend. She told her plainly, that the regard she had -for her demanded a counteraction of her design; and that if she found no -other way of preventing its execution, she should discharge her duty by -informing her parents of her proceedings. This Narcissa resented, and -immediately withdrew her confidence and familiarity; but the faithful -Florinda neglected not the watchful solicitude of friendship; and when -she perceived that Narcissa’s family were resolutely opposed to her -projected match and that Narcissa was preparing to put her rash purpose -into execution, she made known the plan which she had concerted and by -that mean prevented her destruction. Narcissa thought herself greatly -injured, and declared that she would never forgive so flagrant a breach -of fidelity. Florinda endeavoured to convince her of her good -intentions, and the real kindness of her motives; but she refused to -hear the voice of wisdom, till a separation from her lover, and a full -proof of his unworthiness opened her eyes to a sight of her own folly -and indiscretion, and to a lively sense of Florinda’s friendship, in -saving her from ruin without her consent. Her heart overflowed with -gratitude to her generous preserver. She acknowledged herself indebted -to Florinda’s benevolence, for deliverance from the baneful impetuosity -of her own passions. She sought and obtained forgiveness; and ever after -lived in the strictest amity with her faithful benefactress.” - - - _Saturday, A. M._ - - LOVE. - -“The highest state of friendship which this life admits, is in the -conjugal relation. On this refined affection, love, which is but a more -interesting and tender kind of friendship, ought to be founded. The same -virtues, the same dispositions and qualities which are necessary in a -friend, are still more requisite in a companion for life. And when these -enlivening principles are united, they form the basis of durable -happiness. But let not the mask of friendship, or of love, deceive you. -You are now entering upon a new stage of action where you will probably -admire, and be admired. You may attract the notice of many, who will -select you as objects of adulation, to discover their taste and -gallantry; and perhaps of some whose affections you have really and -seriously engaged. The first class your penetration will enable you to -detect; and your good sense and virtue will lead you to treat them with -the neglect they deserve. It is disreputable for a young lady to receive -and encourage the officious attentions of those mere pleasure-hunters, -who rove from fair to fair, with no other design than the exercise of -their art, addresses, and intrigue. Nothing can render their company -pleasing, but a vanity of being caressed, and a false pride in being -thought an object of general admiration, with a fondness for flattery -which bespeaks a vitiated mind. But when you are addressed by a person -of real merit, who is worthy your esteem and may justly demand your -respect, let him be treated with honor, frankness and sincerity. It is -the part of a prude, to affect a shyness, reserve, and indifference, -foreign to the heart. Innocence and virtue will rise superior to such -little arts, and indulge no wish which needs disguise. - -“Still more unworthy are the insidious and deluding wiles of the -coquette. How disgusting must this character appear to persons of -sentiment and integrity! how unbecoming the delicacy and dignity of an -uncorrupted female! - -“As you are young and inexperienced, your affections may possibly be -involuntarily engaged, where prudence and duty forbid a connexion. -Beware, then how you admit the passion of love. In young minds, it is of -all others the most uncontrollable. When fancy takes the reins, it -compels its blinded votary to sacrifice reason, discretion and -conscience to its impetuous dictates. But a passion of this origin tends -not to substantial and durable happiness. To secure this, it must be -quite of another kind, enkindled by esteem, founded on merit, -strengthened by congenial dispositions and corresponding virtues, and -terminating in the most pure and refined affection. - -“Never suffer your eyes to be charmed by the mere exterior; nor delude -yourselves with the notion of unconquerable love. The eye, in this -respect, is often deceptious, and fills the imagination with charms -which have no reality. Nip, in the bud, every particular liking, much -more all ideas of love, till called forth by unequivocal tokens as well -as professions of sincere regard. Even then, harbor them not without a -thorough knowledge of the temper, disposition and circumstances of your -lover, the advice of your friends; and, above all the approbation of -your parents. Maturely weigh every consideration for and against, and -deliberately determine with yourselves, what will be most conducive to -your welfare and fidelity in life. Let a rational and discreet plan of -thinking and acting, regulate your deportment, and render you deserving -of the affection you wish to insure. This you will find far more -conducive to your interest, than the indulgence of that romantic -passion, which a blind and misguided fancy paints in such alluring -colors to the thoughtless and inexperienced. - -“Recollect the favourite air you so often sing: - - “Ye fair, who would be blessed in love, - Take your pride a little lower: - Let the swain that you approve, - Rather like you than adore. - - Love that rises into passion, - Soon will end in hate or strife: - But from tender inclination - Flow the lasting joys of life.” - -“I by no means undervalue that love which is the noblest principle of -the human mind; but wish only to guard you against the influence of an -ill-placed and ungovernable passion, which is improperly called by this -name. - -“A union, formed without a refined and generous affection for its basis, -must be devoid of those tender endearments, reciprocal attentions, and -engaging sympathies, which are peculiarly necessary to alleviate the -cares, dispel the sorrows, and soften the pains of life. The exercise of -that prudence and caution which I have recommended, will lead you to a -thorough investigation of the character and views of the man by whom you -are addressed. - -“Without good principles, both of religion and morality, (for the latter -cannot exist independent of the former) you can not safely rely, either -upon his fidelity or his affection. Good principles are the foundation -of a good life. - -“If the fountain be pure, the streams which issue from it will be of the -same description. - -“Next to this, an amiable temper is essentially requisite. A proud, a -passionate, a revengeful, a malicious, or a jealous temper, will render -your lives uncomfortable, in spite of all the prudence and fortitude you -can exert. - -“Beware, then, lest, before marriage, love blind your eyes to those -defects, to a sight of which, grief and disappointment may awaken you -afterwards. You are to consider marriage as a connexion for life; as the -nearest and dearest of all human relations; as involving in it the -happiness or misery of all your days; and as engaging you in a variety -of cares and duties, hitherto unknown. Act, therefore, with -deliberation, and resolve with caution; but, when once you come to a -choice, behave with undeviating rectitude and sincerity. - -“Avarice is not commonly a ruling passion in young persons of _our_ sex. -Yet some there are, sordid enough to consider wealth as the chief good, -and to sacrifice every other object to a splendid appearance. It often -happens, that these are miserably disappointed in their expectations of -happiness. They find, by dear bought experience, that external pomp is -but a wretched substitute for internal satisfaction. - -“But I would not have outward circumstances entirely overlooked. A -proper regard should always be had to a comfortable subsistence in life. -Nor can you be justified in suffering a blind passion, under whatever -pretext, to involve you in those embarrassing distresses of want, which -will elude the remedies of love itself, and prove fatal to the peace and -happiness at which you aim. - -“In this momentous affair, let the advice and opinion of judicious -friends have their just weight in your minds. Discover, with candor and -frankness, the progress of your amour, so far as is necessary to enable -them to judge aright in the cause; but never relate the love tales of -your suitor, merely for your own, or any other person’s amusement. The -tender themes inspired by love, may be pleasing to you; but to an -uninterested person, must be insipid and disgusting in the extreme. - -“Never boast of the number, nor of the professions of your admirers. -That betrays an unsufferable vanity, and will render you perfectly -ridiculous in the estimation of observers. Besides, it is a most -ungenerous treatment of those who may have entertained, and expressed a -regard for you. Whatever they have said upon this subject, was doubtless -in confidence, and you ought to keep it sacred, as a secret you have no -right to divulge. - -“If you disapprove the person, and reject his suit, that will be -sufficiently mortifying, without adding the insult of exposing his -overtures. - -“Be very careful to distinguish real lovers from mere gallants. Think -not every man enamoured with you, who is polite and attentive. You have -no right to suppose any man in love with you, till he declares it in -plain, unequivocal and decent terms. - -“Never suffer, with impunity, your ear to be wounded by indelicate -expressions, double entendres, and insinuating attempts to seduce you -from the path of rectitude. True love will not seek to degrade its -object, much less to undermine that virtue which ought to be its basis -and support. Let no protestations induce you to believe that person your -friend, who would destroy your dearest interests, and rob you of -innocence and peace. Give no heed to the language of seduction; but -repel the insidious arts of the libertine, with the dignity and decision -of insulted virtue. This practice will raise you superior to the wiles -of deceivers, and render you invulnerable by the specious flattery of -the unprincipled and debauched. - -“Think not the libertine worthy of your company and conversation even as -an acquaintance. - -“That reformed rakes make the best husbands,” is a common, and I am -sorry to say, a too generally received maxim. Yet I cannot conceive, -that any lady who values, or properly considers her own happiness, will -venture on the dangerous experiment. The term _reformed_ can, in my -opinion, have very little weight; since those, whose principles are -vitiated, and whose minds are debased by a course of debauchery and -excess, seldom change their pursuits, till necessity, or interest -requires it; and, however circumstances may alter or restrain their -conduct, very little dependence can be placed on men whose disposition -is still the same, but only prevented from indulgence by prudential -motives. As a rake is most conversant with the dissolute and abandoned -of both sexes, he doubtless forms his opinion of others by the standard -to which he has been accustomed, and therefore supposes all women of the -same description. Having been hackneyed in the arts of the baser sort, -he cannot form an idea, that any are in reality superior to them. This -renders him habitually jealous, peevish and tyrannical. Even if his -vicious inclinations be changed, his having passed his best days in vice -and folly, renders him a very unsuitable companion for a person of -delicacy and refinement. - -“But whatever inducements some ladies may have to risk themselves with -those who have the reputation of being reformed, it is truly surprising -that any should be so inconsiderate as to unite with such as are still -professed libertines. What hopes of happiness can be formed with men of -this character? - -“Vice and virtue can never assimilate; and hearts divided by them can -never coalesce. The former is the parent of discord, disease and death; -the latter, of harmony, health and peace. A house divided against itself -cannot stand; much less can domestic felicity subsist between such -contrasted dispositions. - -“But however negligent or mistaken many women of real merit may be, -relative to their own interest, I cannot but wish they would pay some -regard to the honor and dignity of their sex. Custom only has rendered -vice more odious in a woman than in a man. And shall we give our -sanction to a custom, so unjust and destructive in its operation; a -custom which invites and encourages the enemies of society to seek our -ruin? Were those who glory in the seduction of innocence, to meet with -the contempt they deserve, and to be pointedly neglected by every female -of virtue, they would be ashamed of their evil practices, and impelled -to relinquish their injurious designs. - -“But while they are received and caressed in the best companies, they -find restraint altogether needless; and their being men of spirit and -gallantry (as they style themselves) is rather a recommendation than a -reproach! - -“I cannot help blushing with indignation, when I see a lady of sense and -character gallanted and entertained by a man who ought to be banished -from society, for having ruined the peace of families, and blasted the -reputation of many, who but for him, might have been useful and happy in -the world; but who by his insidious arts, are plunged into remediless -insignificance, disgrace and misery.” - - - _Saturday, P. M._ - - RELIGION. - -“Having given you my sentiments on a variety of subjects which demand -your particular attention, I come now to the closing and most important -theme; and that is religion. The virtuous education you have received, -and the good principles which have been instilled into your minds from -infancy, will render the enforcement of Christian precepts and duties a -pleasing lesson. - -“Religion is to be considered as an essential and durable object; not as -the embellishment of a day; but an acquisition which shall endure and -increase through the endless ages of eternity. - -“Lay the foundation of it in youth, and it will not forsake you in -advanced age; but furnish you with an adequate substitute for the -transient pleasures which will then desert you, and prove a source of -rational and refined delight: a refuge from the disappointments and -corroding cares of life, and from the depressions of adverse events. -“Remember now your creator, in the days of your youth, while the evil -days come not, nor the years draw nigh, when you shall say we have no -pleasure in them.” If you wish for permanent happiness, cultivate the -divine favour as your highest enjoyment in life, and your safest retreat -when death shall approach you. - -“That even the young are not exempt from the arrest of this universal -conqueror, the tombstone of Amelia will tell you. Youth, beauty, health -and fortune, strewed the path of life with flowers, and left her no wish -ungratified. Love, with its gentlest and purest flame, animated her -heart, and was equally returned by Julius. Their passion was approved by -their parents and friends; the day was fixed, and preparations were -making for the celebration of their nuptials. At this period Amelia was -attacked by a violent cold, which seating on her lungs, baffled the -skill of the most eminent physicians, and terminated in a confirmed -hectic. She perceived her disorder to be incurable, and with -inexpressible regret and concern anticipated her approaching -dissolution. She had enjoyed life too highly to think much of death; yet -die she must! “Oh,” said she, “that I had prepared, while in health and -at ease, for this awful event! Then should I not be subjected to the -keenest distress of mind, in addition to the most painful infirmities of -body! Then should I be able to look forward with hope, and to find -relief in the consoling expectation of being united beyond the grave, -with those dear and beloved connexions, which I must soon leave behind! -Let my companions and acquaintance learn from me the important lesson of -improving their time to the best of purposes; of acting at once as -becomes mortal and immortal creatures!” - -“Hear, my dear pupils, the solemn admonition, and be ye also ready! - -“Too many, especially of the young and gay, seem more anxious to live in -pleasure, than to answer the end of their being, by the cultivation of -that piety and virtue which will render them good members of society, -useful to their friends and associates, and partakers of that heart-felt -satisfaction which results from a conscience void of offence both -towards God and man. - -“This, however, is an egregious mistake; for in many situations, piety -and virtue are our only source of consolation; and in all, they are -peculiarly friendly to our happiness. - -“Do you exult in beauty, and the pride of external charms? Turn your -eyes for a moment, on the miserable Flirtilla.[1] Like her, your -features and complexion may be impaired by disease; and where then will -you find a refuge from mortification and discontent, if destitute of -those ennobling endowments which can raise you superior to the transient -graces of a fair form, if unadorned by that substantial beauty of mind -which can not only ensure respect from those around you, but inspire you -with resignation to the divine will, and a patient acquiescence in the -painful allotments of a holy Providence. Does wealth await your command, -and grandeur with its fascinating appendages beguile your fleeting -moments? Recollect, that riches often make themselves wings and fly -away. A single instance of mismanagement; a consuming fire, with various -other misfortunes which no human prudence can foresee or prevent, may -strip you of this dependence; and, unless you have other grounds of -comfort than earth can boast, reduce you to the most insupportable -wretchedness and despair. Are you surrounded by friends, and happy in -the society of those who are near and dear to you? Soon may they be -wrested from your fond embrace, and consigned to the mansions of the -dead! - -Footnote 1: - - See page 48. - -“Whence, then, will you derive support, if unacquainted with that divine -Friend, who will never fail nor forsake you; who is the same yesterday, -to-day and forever. - -“Health and youth, my dear girls, are the seasons for improvement. Now -you may lay up a treasure which neither sickness nor adversity can -impair. - -“But the hour of distress is not the only time, in which religion will -be advantageous to you. Even in prosperity, it will prove the best -solace and the highest ornament of your lives. What can be more -dignified, respectable, and lovely, than the Christian character? The -habitual practice of those duties which the gospel inculcates will give -lustre to your beauty and durability to your charms. By correcting your -passions, it will improve your joys, endear you to your friends and -connexions, and render you contented, happy, and useful in every stage -and condition of life. - -“Religion will not deprive you of temporal enjoyments; it will heighten -and increase them. It will not depress, but exhilarate your spirits. For -it consists not in a gloomy, misanthropic temper, declining the social -and innocent delights of life; but prepares the mind to partake with -satisfaction of every pleasure which reason approves, and which can -yield serenity and peace in the review. Be not ashamed then of appearing -religious, and of rising by that mean above the vain, unthinking crowd. - -“Let not the idle jests of heedless and unprincipled companions deter -you from a stedfast adherence to the path of truth and righteousness. -‘Follow not the multitude to do evil.’ Never conform to fashion, even -though it claim the patronage of politeness, so far as to countenance -irreligion in any of its modifications. - -“Jesting upon sacred subjects, ridiculing the professors of -Christianity, light and irreverent conduct upon solemn occasions, ought -to be cautiously avoided and decidedly condemned. Too many girls are so -extremely thoughtless as to carry the levity of their manners even to -the sanctuary; and by whispering, winking, tittering and other indecent -actions, display their folly to their own disgrace, and to the great -disgust of all judicious and sober people. Such behaviour is not only -offensive to the Deity, but insulting to all who would worship him free -from interruption. It is not only an indignity offered to religion, but -a flagrant breach of the rules of good breeding. Content not yourselves, -therefore, with a bare attendance on the institutions of religion; but -conduct with propriety, decorum, and seriousness, while engaged in the -solemn service. Bear in mind, that you assemble with a professed purpose -of paying homage to the Supreme; and consider yourselves as in his -immediate presence! - -“The offices of devotion demand your attention in private, as well as in -public. - -“Accustom yourselves, therefore, to stated periods of retirement for -meditation and prayer; and adopt every other mean which is calculated to -keep alive in your minds a due sense of your dependence and obligations, -and to inspire you with that uniform love to God and benevolence to the -human kind, which will prove your greatest glory here, as well as your -crown of rejoicing hereafter.” - -The hour of departure having arrived, on Monday morning, Mrs. Williams -assembled with her pupils; when the regret, visibly depicted on every -countenance, was variously expressed. The tear of grateful regard stole -silently down the bloomy cheeks of some; others betrayed their -sensibility by audible sobs, which they could not repress; and all -united in testifying the sense they entertained of the advantages they -had received from Mrs. Williams’s tuition, the happiness they had -enjoyed in each other’s society, and their determination to remember her -counsels, cultivate continued friendship among themselves, and endeavor -to be worthy of her’s. - -Mrs. Williams then took an affectionate leave of each one, and left them -with her daughters. The most cordial good wishes were mutually -interchanged, till their carriages received and separated them. - -The friendship and unity thus commenced and confirmed, were never -obliterated. They always cherished the most sincere affection for their -Preceptress, and each other; which they displayed in an unreserved and -social correspondence, both personal and epistolary. The residence of -Mrs. Williams they denominated Harmony-Grove, which it ever after -retained, and by which it is designated in the following selection of -their letters. - - - - - LETTERS. - - - _To Mrs._ M. WILLIAMS, - - BOSTON. - - RESPECTED AND DEAR MADAM, - -Conformably to my promise, when I left your abode, the first efforts of -my pen are dedicated to you. The pleasure which arises from the -recollection of your more than maternal kindness to me, especially your -unwearied endeavors to refine and embellish my mind and to lay the -foundation of right principles and practices, is interwoven with my -existence; and no time or circumstances can erase my gratitude. - -I arrived last evening safely; and was affectionately received by my -honored parents, and beloved brothers and sisters. The emotions of -regret which I felt in the morning, at the painful separation from you -and my dear school-mates, with whom I have lived so happily, had not -wholly subsided. I could not help listening, now and then, for some -judicious observation from my Preceptress; and frequently cast my eyes -around in search of some of the amiable companions, among whom I had -been used to unbend every thought. - -The splendor of the apartments gave me ideas of restraint that were -painful; and I looked abroad for the green, where we were wont to -gambol, and the lawn where we so often held our twilight sports, and -almost fancied that we sometimes caught a glimpse of the attendant -Sylphs who played around us; but in vain. Stately domes, crowded -streets, rattling carriages, and all the noise and confusion of a -commercial city were substituted. I retired to bed, and was awaked in -the night by the riotous mirth of a number of Bacchanalians, reeling -from the haunts of intemperance and excess. - -Alas! said I, this is not the Æolian harp that used to soothe our -slumbers at the boarding school. I composed myself again; but awoke at -the accustomed hour of five. I arose; and, having praised my Maker for -the preservations of the night, walked down. Not a living creature was -stirring in the house. - -I took a turn in the garden. Here art seemed to reign so perfectly -mistress, that I was apprehensive lest I should injure her charms by -viewing them. - -I accordingly retired to the summer-house, and, having a book in my -hand, sat down and read till the clock struck seven. I then thought it -must be breakfast time, and returned to the house; but was much -disappointed to find none of the family up, except one man servant and -the house maid who had just crept down. - -They appeared perfectly astonished to see me come in from abroad; and -the girl respectfully inquired if indisposition had occasioned my rising -so early. I told her no; that the wish to preserve my health had called -me up two hours before. Well, rejoined she, you will not find any body -to keep you company here for two hours to come. I was chagrined at the -information, and asked her for a bowl of milk, it being past my usual -breakfast time. The milk man had just arrived, and I drank some; but it -had lost its flavor on the road. It was not like that which was served -us at Harmony-Grove. I stepped to the harpsichord, and having sung and -played a morning hymn, returned to my chamber, where, taking my work, I -sat down by the window to view the listless tribe of yawning mortals who -were beginning to thicken in the streets. One half of these appeared to -be dragged forth by necessity, rather than any inclination to enjoy the -beauties of a fine morning. - -At nine, I was summoned into the parlor to breakfast. My sisters gently -chid me for disturbing their repose with my music. I excused myself by -alleging that I had been so long accustomed to early rising that I -should find it difficult to alter the habit. - -Here, madam, you have an account of my first night and morning’s -occupation. Were I to proceed with every new occurrence, through the -year, and subjoin my own remarks, I must write volumes instead of -letters. - -Please to communicate this scroll to your amiable daughters, and remind -them of their promise to write. - -A line from Harmony-Grove would be a luxury to me. - -Meanwhile, permit me still to subscribe myself, with the utmost respect -your grateful pupil, - - HARRIOT HENLY. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -I did not intend when we parted at the boarding school, that a whole -month should have elapsed without bearing you some testimony of my -continued friendship and affection; but so numerous have been my -avocations, and so various my engagements, that I have scarcely called a -moment my own since I returned home. Having been from town a year, I was -considered as too antique to appear in company abroad, till I had been -perfectly metamorphosed. Every part of my habit has undergone a complete -change, in conformity to the present fashion. It was with extreme regret -that I parted with the neatness and simplicity of my country dress; -which, according to my ideas of modesty, was more becoming. But I trust, -this alteration of appearance will have no tendency to alienate those -sentiments from my heart which I imbibed under the tuition of Mrs. -Williams. - -I went, last evening, to the assembly; but though dazzled, I was by no -means charmed, by the glare of finery and tinselled decorations that -were displayed. - -There were some ladies, whose gentility and fashionable dress were -evidently the product of a correct taste; but others were so disguised -by tawdry gewgaws, as to disgust me exceedingly. - -Mrs. Williams used to say, that the dress was indicative of the mind. If -this observation be just, what opinion am I to form of the gay -multitudes who trip along the streets and throng the places of public -resort in this metropolis; the lightness and gaudiness of whose -appearance, bespeak a sickly taste, to say no more. - -I am furnished with feathers, flowers, and ribbons in profusion. I -shall, however, use them very sparingly; and though I would not be -entirely singular, yet I must insist on consulting my own fancy a -little, and cannot willingly sacrifice my own opinion to the capricious -whims of fashion, and her devotees. My aunt Lawrence, who you know, is -extravagantly genteel, is making us a visit. She laughs very heartily at -my silly notions, as she calls them, and styles me a novice in the ways -of the world: but hopes, notwithstanding, that I shall acquire a better -taste when I am more acquainted with fashionable life. That I may be -much improved by a more extensive knowledge of the world, I doubt not; -yet may I never be corrupted by that levity and folly, which are too -prevalent among a part of my sex. - -“I will not, however, censure and condemn others; but attend to myself -and be humble. Adieu.” - - LAURA GUILFORD - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -The tear of regret for your departure is scarcely dried from the cheek -of your Maria; and the pleasing remembrance of the happiness I have -enjoyed in your society is accompanied with a sigh, whenever I reflect -that it exists no more. - -My mamma has observed that those friendships which are formed in youth, -provided they be well founded, are the most sincere, lively and durable. -I am sure that the ardency of mine can never abate; my affectionate -regard for you can never decay. - -We have another class of boarders; but you and your amiable companions -had so entirely engrossed my confidence and esteem, that I shall find it -difficult to transfer them, in any degree, to others. The sensations of -Anna are very different, though she is capable of the most refined -friendship. The natural vivacity, and, as I tell her, the volatility of -her disposition, renders a variety of associates pleasing to her. - -In order to recall your ideas to the exercises of Harmony-Grove, I -enclose the sallies of my pen for this morning, fully assured of your -candour and generosity in the perusal. - -Pray omit no opportunity of writing, and favor me with your observations -on the polite world. I shall receive every line as a pledge of your -continued love to your - - MARIA WILLIAMS. - - - AN ODE ON SPRING. - - _Enclosed in the preceding Letter._ - - Hail delight-restoring spring! - Balmy pleasures with thee bring; - Aromatic gales dispense, - Misty vapours banish hence. - Blithe the jocund hinds appear, - Joy supports returning care, - Mirth the ready hand attends, - Pleasing hope the toil befriends. - Hark! the shady groves resound, - Love and praise re-echo round, - Music floats in every gale, - Peace and harmony prevail. - Here no stormy passions rise, - Here no feuds impede our joys, - Here ambition never roams, - Pride or envy never comes. - Come Matilda; ruddy morn - Tempts us o’er the spacious lawn; - Spring’s reviving charms invite - Every sense to taste delight; - Such delights as never cloy, - Health and innocence enjoy. - Youth’s the spring-time of our years, - Short the rapid scene appears; - Let’s improve the fleeting hours, - Virtue’s noblest fruits be ours. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - BOSTON. - -You have left—you have forsaken me, Caroline! But I will haunt you with -my letters; obtrude myself upon your remembrance; and extort from you -the continuance of your friendship! - -What do I say? Obtrude and extort! Can these harsh words be used when I -am addressing the generous and faithful Caroline? - -But you have often encouraged my eccentricities by your smile, and must -therefore still indulge them. - -Nature has furnished me with a gay disposition; and happy is it for me, -that a lax education has not strengthened the folly too commonly arising -from it. - -Mrs. Williams’ instructions were very seasonably interposed to impress -my mind with a sense of virtue and propriety. I trust they have had the -desired effect; and that they will prove the guardian of my youth, and -the directory of maturer age. How often has the dear, good woman taken -me into her chamber, and reminded me of indecorums of which I was -unconscious at the time; but thankful afterwards that they had not -escaped her judicious eye; as her observations tended to rectify my -errors, and render me more cautious and circumspect in future. How -salutary is advice like her’s; conveyed, not with the dogmatic air of -supercilious wisdom, but with the condescending ease and soothing -kindness of an affectionate parent, anxiously concerned for the best -good of those under her care! - -I was very happy at Harmony-Grove; and the result of that happiness, I -hope, will accompany me through life. - -Yet I find the gaiety of the town adapted to my taste; nor does even -Mrs. Williams condemn the enjoyment of its pleasures. - -I was, last evening, at a ball, and I assure you, the attention I -gained, and the gallantry displayed to attract my notice and -approbation, were very flattering to my vanity; though I could not -forbear inwardly smiling at the futile arts of the pretty fellows who -exhibited them. - -Their speeches appeared to have been so long practised, that I was on -the point of advising them to exercise their genius, if they had any, in -the invention of something new. But a polite conformity to the ton -restrained my satire, Adieu. - - JULIA GREENFIELD. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - NEWBURYPORT. - -I am disappointed and displeased, Cleora! I have long been anxious to -procure the Marchioness de Sevigne’s letters, having often heard them -mentioned as standards of taste and elegance in the epistolary way. This -excited my curiosity, and raised my hopes of finding a rich -entertainment of wit and sentiment. I have perused, and perused in vain; -for they answer not my ideas of either. They are replete with local -circumstances, which to indifferent readers, are neither amusing nor -interesting. True, the style is easy and sprightly; but they are chiefly -composed of family matters, such as relate to her own movements and -those of her daughter; many of which are of too trifling a nature to be -ranked in the class of elegant writing. I own myself, however, not a -competent judge of their merit as a whole, even in my own estimation; -for I have read the two first volumes only. - -That letters ought to be written with the familiarity of personal -conversation, I allow; yet many such conversations, even between persons -of taste and refinement, are unworthy the public attention. - -Equal was my chagrin, not long since, on reading Pope’s letters. He, -said I to myself, who bears the palm from all contemporary poets, and -who is so consummate a master of this divine art, must surely furnish a -source of superior entertainment, when he descends to friendly and -social communications. - -Indeed, there are good sentiments and judicious observations, -interspersed in his letters; but the greater part of them have little -other merit than what arises from the style. - -Perhaps you will charge me with arrogance for presuming to criticise, -much more to condemn, publications which have so long been sanctioned by -general approbation. Independent in opinion, I write it without reserve, -and censure not any one who thinks differently. Give me your sentiments -with the same freedom upon the books which you honor with a perusal, and -you will oblige your affectionate - - CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - SALEM. - - DEAR CAROLINE, - -I received yours with those lively sensations of pleasure which your -favors always afford. As I was perusing it, my papa came into the room. -He took it out of my hand and read it; then returning it with the smile -of approbation, I think, said he, that your correspondent has played the -critic very well. Has she played it justly, Sir? said I. Why, it is a -long time, said he, since I read the Marchioness de Sevigne’s letters. I -am not, therefore, judge of their merit. But with regard to Pope, I -blame not the sex for retaliating upon him; for he always treated them -satirically. I believe revenge was no part of my friend’s plan, said I. -She is far superior to so malignant a passion, though, were she capable -of seeking it, it would be in behalf of her sex. - -Company now coming in, the conversation shifted. - -I have often smiled at the pitiful wit of those satirists and essayists, -who lavish abundant eloquence on trifling foibles, the mere whims of a -day; and of no consequence to the body natural, moral, or political. The -extension of a hoop, the contraction of the waist, or the elevation of -the head-dress, frequently afford matter for pages of elaborate -discussion. These reformers, too, always aim at the good of our sex! I -think it a great pity they do not lop off some of their own exuberant -follies; though perhaps they wish us to exchange labours; and in return -for their benevolent exertions, that we endeavor to expose and correct -their errors. I have sometimes thought their satire to be tinctured with -malice; and that the cause of their disaffection may generally be found -in personal resentment. Had Pope and his coadjutors been favourites with -the ladies, I doubt not but they would have found more excellencies in -them than they have ever yet allowed. - -I have lately been reading the generous and polite Fitzorsborne’s -letters; and I need not tell you how much I was pleased and charmed with -them. - -The justness of his sentiments, and the ease and elegance of his -diction, are at once interesting and improving. His letter and ode to -his wife on the anniversary of their marriage, surpass any thing of the -kind I have ever read. I verily think, that, had I the offer of a heart -capable of dictating such manly tenderness of expression, and such -pathetic energy of generous love, I should be willing to give my hand in -return, and assent to those solemn words, “love, honor, and—(I had -almost said) obey.” Adieu. - - CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - NEWBURYPORT. - - DEAR CLEORA, - -I agree with you, that the habits of the weak and vain are too -insignificant to employ the pens of those, whose literary talents might -produce great and good effects in the political, moral, and religious -state of things. Were absurd fashions adopted only by those whose -frivolity renders them the dupes of folly, and whose example can have no -effect on the considerate and judicious part of the community, I should -think them below the attention of statesmen, philosophers, and divines: -but this is not the case. The votaries and the inventors of the most -fantastical fashions are found in the ranks of, what is called, refined -and polished society; from whom we might hope for examples of elegance -and propriety, both in dress and behaviour. By these, luxury and -extravagance are sanctioned. Their influence upon the poorer class is -increased; who, emulous of imitating their superiors, think _that_ the -most eligible appearance, (however beyond their income, or unsuitable to -their circumstances and condition in life) which is preferred and -countenanced by their wealthier neighbors. - -Absurd and expensive fashions, then, are injurious to society at large, -and require some check; and why is not satire levelled against them, -laudable in its design, and likely to produce a good effect? Adieu. - - CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -Notwithstanding the coldness of the season, every heart seems to be -enlivened, and every mind exhilarated by the anniversary of the new -year. Why this day is so peculiarly marked out for congratulations, I -shall not now inquire; but in compliance with the prevailing custom of -expressing good wishes on the occasion, I send you mine in a scribble - - Early I greet the opening year, - While friendship bids the muse appear, - To wish Matilda blest. - The muse, devoid of selfish art, - Obeys the dictates of a heart, - Which warms a friendly breast. - - The rolling earth again has run - Her annual circuit round the sun, - And whirl’d the year away; - She now her wonted course renews, - Her orbit’s track again pursues; - Nor feels the least decay. - - How soon the fleeting hours are gone! - The rapid wheels of time glide on, - Which bring the seasons round. - Winter disrobes the smiling plain, - But spring restores its charms again, - And decks the fertile ground. - - The sweet returns of cheerful May - Come with a vivifying ray, - Inspiring new delight: - Beclad with every various charm - To please the eye, the fancy warm, - And animate the sight. - - But youth no kind renewal knows; - Swiftly the blooming season goes, - And brings the frost of age! - No more the vernal sun appears, - To gild the painful round of years, - And wintry damps assuage. - - With rapid haste, the moments fly, - Which you and I, my friend, enjoy; - And they return no more! - Then let us wisely now improve - The downy moments, as they rove, - Which nature can’t restore. - - O source of wisdom! we implore - Thy aid to guide us safely o’er - The slippery paths of youth: - O deign to lend a steady ray - To point the sure, the certain way - To honor and to truth! - - Let thy unerring influence shed - Its blessings on Matilda’s head, - While piety and peace, - Thy genuine offspring round her wait, - And guard her through this transient state, - To joys that never cease! - - May constant health its charms extend, - And fortune every blessing lend, - To crown each passing day; - May pleasures in succession shine, - And every heart-felt bliss be thine, - Without the least allay. - - MARIA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR CLEORA, - -I have this week engaged in the celebration of the nuptials of my -friend, Amanda South. A splendid wedding, a gay company, an elegant -supper, and a magnificent ball, were the sum of our entertainment. - -I imagine such exhilarating scenes designed to dispel the anxiety and -thoughtfulness, which every reflecting person must feel on this solemn -occasion. This untried state presents to the apprehensive mind such a -variety of new cares and duties, that cheerfulness, festivity and -hilarity seem necessary to banish the thought of them, so far as to -render a delicate and sensible female sufficiently composed to conduct -with propriety. But I must confess that were I called to the trial, I -should choose to retire from the observation of those indifferent and -unfeeling spectators, to whom the blushing modesty of a bride is often a -pastime. - -Indeed, Cleora, when we look around the world and observe the great -number of unhappy marriages, which were contracted with the brightest -prospects, yet from some unforeseen cause, have involved the parties in -wretchedness for life, we may well indulge a diffidence of our own -abilities to discharge the duties of the station, and be solicitous that -our future companion should in all respects be qualified to assist in -bearing the burdens of the conjugal state. - -Experience only can determine how far we are right in the judgment we -form of ourselves, and of the person of our choice. So many are the -deceptions which love and courtship impose upon their votaries, that I -believe it very difficult for the parties concerned to judge -impartially, or to discern faults, where they look only for virtues. -Hence they are so frequently misled in their opinions, and find, too -late, the errors into which they have been betrayed. - -When do you come to Boston, Cleora? I am impatient for your society; -because your friendship is void of flattery, and your sincerity and -cheerfulness are always agreeable and advantageous. Adieu. - - HARRIOT HENLY. - - - _To Miss_ HARRIOT HENLY. - - SALEM. - -Indeed, Harriot, I open your letters with as much gravity as I would a -sermon; you have such a knack of moralizing upon every event! What -mortal else would feel serious and sentimental at a wedding? Positively, -you shall not come to mine. Your presence, I fear, would put such a -restraint upon me, as to render me quite foolish and awkward in my -appearance. - -However, I must acknowledge it a weighty affair; and what you say has, -perhaps, too much truth in it to be jested with. I believe, therefore, -we had better resolve not to risk the consequences of a wrong choice, or -imprudent conduct; but wisely devote ourselves to celibacy. I am sure we -should make a couple of very clever old maids. If you agree to this -proposition, we will begin in season to accustom ourselves to the -virtues and habits of a single life. By observing what is amiss in the -conduct of others in the same state, and avoiding their errors, I doubt -not but we may bring even the title into repute. In this way we shall be -useful to many of our own sex, though I am aware it would be a most -grievous dispensation to a couple of the other; but no matter for that. - -The world needs some such examples as we might become; and if we can be -instrumental of retrieving _old-maidism_ from the imputation of -ill-nature, oddity, and many other mortifying charges, which are now -brought against it, I believe we shall save many a good girl from an -unequal and unhappy marriage. It might have a salutary effect on the -other sex too. Finding the ladies independent in sentiment, they would -be impelled to greater circumspection of conduct to merit their favor. - -You see that my benevolence is extensive. I wish to become a general -reformer. What say you to my plan, Harriot? If you approve it, dismiss -your long train of admirers immediately, and act not the part of a -coquette, by retaining them out of pride or vanity. We must rise above -such narrow views, and let the world know that we act from principle, if -we mean to do good by our example. I shall continue to receive the -addresses of this same Junius, till I hear that you have acceded to my -proposal; and then, display my fortitude by renouncing a connexion which -must be doubtful as to the issue, and will certainly expose me to the -mortification of being looked at, when I am married. Farewell. - - CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR CAROLINE, - -I have just returned from a rural excursion, where, in the thicket of a -grove, I enjoyed all the luxury of solitude. The sun had nearly finished -his diurnal course, and was leaving our hemisphere to illuminate the -other with his cheering rays. - -The sprightly songsters had retired to their bowers, and were distending -their little throats with a tribute of instinctive gratitude and praise. - -The vocal strains re-echoed from tree to tree and invited me to join the -responsive notes. My heart expanded with devotion and benevolence. I -wished the whole human kind to share the feelings of happiness which I -enjoyed; while the inanimate creation around seemed to partake of my -satisfaction! Methought the fields assumed a livelier verdure; and the -zephyrs were unusually officious in wafting the fragrance of aromatic -gales. I surveyed the surrounding scenery with rapturous admiration; and -my heart glowed with inexpressible delight at the lovely appearance of -nature, and the diffusive bounties of its almighty author. - -Let others, said I, exult in stately domes, and the superfluities of -pomp; immerse themselves in the splendid novelties of fashion, and a -promiscuous crowd of giddy amusements! I envy them not. - - Give me a mind to range the sylvan scene, - And taste the blessings of the vernal day; - While social joys, and friendly, intervene - To chase the gloomy cares of life away. - -I wish not to abandon society, nor to resign the pleasures which it -affords; but it is a select number of friends, not a promiscuous crowd, -which I prefer. - -When the mind is much engrossed by dissipating pleasures, it is apt to -forget itself, and neglect its own dignity and improvement. It is -necessary often to retreat from the noise and bustle of the world, and -commune with our own hearts. By this mean we shall be the better -qualified both to discharge the duties and participate in the enjoyments -of life. - -Solitude affords a nearer and more distinct view of the works of -creation; elevates the mind, and purifies its passions and affections. - - O solitude! in thee the boundless mind - Expands itself, and revels unconfin’d; - From thee, each vain, each grov’lling passion flies, - And all the virtues of the soul arise. - - Adieu, - - JULIA GREENFIELD. - - - _To Miss_ LAURA GUILFORD. - - BOSTON. - - MY DEAR LAURA, - -Rambling in the garden, I have picked a nosegay, which I transmit to you -as a token of my remembrance. Though the poetical bagatelle which -accompanies it, is not equal to the elegance of the subject; yet I -confide in your candor to excuse its futility, and give a favorable -interpretation to its design. - - Laura, this little gift approve, - Pluck’d by the hand of cordial love! - With nicest care the wreath I’ve dress’d, - Fit to adorn your friendly breast. - The rose and lily are combin’d, - As emblems of your virtuous mind! - Pure as the first is seen in thee - Sweet blushing sensibility. - Carnations here their charms display, - And nature shines in rich array, - Od’rous, as virtue’s accents sweet, - From Laura’s lips with wit replete. - The myrtle with the laurel bound, - And purple amaranthus crown’d, - Within this little knot unite, - Like Laura’s charms, to give delight! - Fair, fragrant, soft, like beauty dress’d; - So she unrivalled stands confess’d; - While blending still each finish’d grace, - Her virtues in her mien we trace! - Virtues, which far all tints outshine, - And, verdant brave the frost of time. - - I am, &c. - - SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - - _To Miss_ MARIA WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR SISTER, - -I am not so far engaged by the new scenes of fashionable gaiety which -surround me, as to forget you and the other dear friends, whom I left at -Harmony-Grove. Yet so great is the novelty which I find in this crowded -metropolis, that you cannot wonder if my attention is very much -engrossed. Mr. and Mrs. Henly, with their amiable daughters, are -extremely polite and attentive to me; and having taken every method to -contribute to my amusement, I went yesterday, in their company, to -Commencement, at Cambridge; and was very much entertained with the -exhibition. I pretend not to be a judge of the talents displayed by the -young gentlemen who took an active part, or of the proficiency they had -made in science. I have an opinion of my own, notwithstanding; and can -tell how far my eye and ear were gratified. - -I never knew before, that dress was a classical study; which I now -conclude it must be, or it would not have exercised the genius of some -of the principal speakers on this public occasion. - -The female garb too, seemed to claim particular attention. The _bon -ton_, taste and fashions of our sex, afforded a subject of declamation -to the orator; and of entertainment to the audience, composed, in part, -of our legislators, politicians, and divines! I could not but think that -those scholars who employ their time in studying, investigating and -criticising the ladies’ dresses, might as well be occupied in the -business of a friseur or the man-milliner; either of which would afford -them more frequent opportunities for the display of their abilities, and -render their labors more extensively useful to the sex. Others might -then improve the time, which they thus frivolously engrossed on this -anniversary, in contributing to the entertainment of the _literati_, who -doubtless expect to be gratified by the exertions of genius and an -apparent progress in those studies, which are designed to qualify the -rising youth of America for important stations both in church and state. - -The assembly was extremely brilliant; the ladies seemed to vie with each -other in magnificent decorations. So much loveliness was visible in -their native charms, that without any hint from the speakers of the day, -I should have thought it a pity to add those foreign ornaments, which -rather obscure than aid them. - -I was a little displeased by the unbecoming levity of some of my sex; -and am apprehensive lest it might induce misjudging and censorious -people to imagine that they were led thither more by the vanity of -attracting notice, than to receive any mental entertainment. - -Without our consent, we ran a race back to town, which endangered our -necks. The avaricious hackman, desirous of returning for another -freight, had no mercy on his passengers or horses. However, we arrived -safely, though much fatigued by the pleasure of the day. - -Pleasure carried to excess degenerates into pain. This I actually -experienced; and sighed for the tranquil enjoyments of Harmony grove, to -which I propose soon to return, and convince you how affectionately I am -your’s, - - ANNA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ ANNA WILLIAMS. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR ANNA, - -Your enlivening letter restored us, in some measure, to your society; or -at least, alleviated the pain of your absence. - -I am glad you attended commencement. It was a new scene, and -consequently extended your ideas. I think you rather severe on the -classical gentlemen. We simple country folks must not presume to arraign -their taste, whose learning and abilities render them conspicuous on the -literary stage. They, doubtless, write on subjects better adapted to -their capacities. As for the follies of fashion, I think the gentlemen -are under obligations to the ladies for adopting them; since it gives -exercise to their genius and pens. - -You were tired, you say, with pleasure. I believe those dissipating -scenes, which greatly exhilarate the spirits, call for the whole -attention, and oblige us to exert every power, are always fatiguing. - -Pleasures of a calmer kind, which are moderately enjoyed, which enliven -rather then exhaust, and which yield a serenity of mind on reflection, -are the most durable, rational and satisfying. Pleasure is the most -alluring object which is presented to the view of the young and -inexperienced. Under various forms it courts our attention; but while we -are still eager in the pursuit, it eludes our grasp. Its fascinating -charms deceive the imagination, and create a bower of bliss in every -distant object. - -But let us be careful not to fix our affections on any thing, which -bears this name, unless it be founded on virtue, and will endure the -severest scrutiny of examination. - -Our honored mamma, and all your friends here, are impatient for your -return. They unitedly long to embrace, and bid you welcome to these -seats of simplicity and ease: but none more ardently than your -affectionate sister, - - MARY WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -Anxious to make the best possible use of the education I have received; -and fully impressed with the idea, that the human mind is capable of -continual improvements, it is my constant endeavor to extract honey from -every flower which falls in my way, or, to speak without a figure, to -derive advantage from every incident. Pursuant to the advice of our -excellent Preceptress, I keep this perpetually in view; and am therefore -disappointed when defeated in the attempt. - -This afternoon I have been in company with three ladies, celebrated for -their beauty and wit. One of them I think may justly claim the -reputation of beauty. To a finished form, and florid complexion, an -engaging, animating countenance is added. Yet a consciousness of -superior charms was apparent in her deportment; and a supercilious air -counteracted the effects of her personal accomplishments. The two others -were evidently more indebted to art than to nature for their appearance. -It might easily be discovered that paint constituted all the delicacy of -their complexion. - -What a pity that so many are deceived in their ideas of beauty! Certain -it is, that artificial additions serve rather to impair than increase -its power. “Who can paint like nature?” What hand is skilful enough to -supply her defects? Do not those who attempt it always fail, and render -themselves disgusting? Do they not really injure what they strive to -mend; and make it more indifferent than usual, when divested of its -temporary embellishments? Beauty cannot possibly maintain its sway over -its most obsequious votaries, unless the manners and the mind unitedly -contribute to secure it. How vain then is this subterfuge! It may -deceive the eye and gain the flattery of the prattling coxcomb; but -accumulated neglect and mortification inevitably await those who trust -in the wretched alternative. - -From their good sense, I had been led to expect the greatest -entertainment. I therefore waited impatiently till the first compliments -were over, and conversation commenced. - -But to my extreme regret, I found it to consist of ludicrous -insinuations, hackneyed jests and satirical remarks upon others of their -acquaintance who were absent. The pretty fellows of the town were -criticised; and their own adventures in shopping, were related with so -much minuteness, hilarity, and glee, that I blushed for the frivolous -levity of those of my sex, who could substitute buffoonery for wit, and -the effusions of a perverted imagination, for that refined and improving -conversation, which a well cultivated mind and a correct taste are -calculated to afford. - -If, said I, to myself, this be the beauty and the wit of polished -society, restore me again to the native simplicity and sincerity of -Harmony-Grove. - -I took my leave as soon as politeness would allow; and left them to -animadvert upon me. Independent for happiness on the praise or censure -of superficial minds, let me ever be conscious of meriting approbation, -and I shall rest contented in the certain prospect of receiving it. -Adieu. - - SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - - _To Miss_ SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - BEVERLY. - -I sympathize with you, my dear Sophia, in the disappointment you -received in your expectations from beauty and wit. - -You may nevertheless derive advantage from it. Your refined and delicate -ideas raise you too far above the scenes of common life. They paint the -defects of your inferiors in such lively colours, that the greater part -of the community must be displeasing to you. Few, you should remember, -have had the advantages which you have enjoyed; and still fewer have -your penetrating eye, correct taste, and quick sensibility. Let charity -then draw a veil over the foibles of others, and candor induce you to -look on the best and brightest side. - -It is both our duty and interest to enjoy life as far as integrity and -innocence allow; and in order to this, we must not soar above, but -accommodate ourselves to its ordinary state. We cannot stem the torrent -of folly and vanity; but we can step aside and see it roll on, without -suffering ourselves to be borne down by the stream. - -Empty conversation must be disgusting to every rational and thinking -mind; yet, when it partakes not of malignity, it is harmless in its -effects, as the vapour which floats over the mead in a summer’s eve. But -when malice and envy join to give scope to detraction, we ought to avoid -their contagion, and decidedly condemn the effusions of the ill-natured -merriment which they inspire. - -Our sex have been taxed as defamers. I am convinced, however, they are -not exclusively guilty; yet, for want of more substantial matter of -conversation, I fear they too often give occasion for the accusation! A -mind properly cultivated and stored with useful knowledge, will despise -a pastime which must be supported at the expense of others. Hence only -the superficial and the giddy are reduced to the necessity of filling -the time in which they associate together, with the degrading and -injurious subjects of slander. But I trust that our improved -country-women are rising far superior to this necessity, and are able to -convince the world, that the American fair are enlightened, generous, -and liberal. The false notions of sexual disparity, in point of -understanding and capacity, are justly exploded; and each branch of -society is uniting to raise the virtues and polish the manners of the -whole. - - I am, &c. - - MATILDA FIELDING. - - - _To Miss_ JULIA GREENFIELD. - - SALEM. - - DEAR JULIA, - -From your recommendation of Mrs. Chapone’s letters; and, what is still -more, from the character given them by Mrs. Williams, I was anxious to -possess the book; but, not being able to procure it here, my clerical -brother, who was fortunately going to Boston, bought and presented it to -me. - -I am much gratified by the perusal, and flatter myself that I shall -derive lasting benefit from it. - -So intricate is the path of youth, and so many temptations lurk around -to beguile our feet astray, that we really need some skilful pilot to -guide us through the delusive maze. To an attentive and docile mind, -publications of this sort may afford much instruction and aid. They -ought, therefore, to be carefully collected, and diligently perused. - -Anxious to make my brother some acknowledgment for his present, I -wrought and sent him a purse, accompanied with a dedication which I -thought might amuse some of his solitary moments; and which, for that -purpose, I here transcribe and convey to you. - - The enclosed, with zeal and with reverence due, - Implor’d my permission to wait upon you; - And begg’d that the muse would her favor extend, - To briefly her worth and her service commend. - The muse, who by dear bought experience had known - How little her use to the clergy had grown, - With officious advice thus attacked the poor purse: - Why, you novice! ’tis plain that you cannot do worse! - If the end of your being you would ever attain, - And honor, preferment and influence gain, - Go quick to the pocket of some noble knave, - Whose merit is wealth, and his person is slave: - Or enter the mansion where splendor appears, - And pomp and eclat are the habit she wears: - Or hie to the court, where so well you are known, - So highly esteem’d and so confident grown, - That without your assistance and recommendation, - None claims any merit, or fills any station! - Seek either of these; and with joy you’ll behold - Yourself crown’d with honor, and filled with gold. - But to wait on a priest! How absurd is the scheme; - His reward’s in reversion; the future’s his theme. - Will these, for the present, your craving’s supply, - Or soften the din of necessity’s cry? - Of hunger and want, the loud clamours repel; - Or crush the poor moth that would on you revel! - For poets and prophets the world has decreed, - On fame and on faith may luxuriously feed! - Here the puss interpos’d with a strut and a stare, - Pray good madam muse, your suggestions forbear! - On virtue and worth I’m resolved to attend, - A _firm_, if I am not a _plentiful_ friend. - Tho’ not swell’d with gold, and with metal extended, - What little I have shall be rightly expended: - And a trifle, by justice and wisdom obtained, - Is better than millions dishonestly gain’d! - Yet I hope and presume that I never shall be - excluded his pocket for the lack of a fee! - - Thus the muse and the purse—till I took the direction, - And destin’d the latter to your kind protection. - My wishes attend her, with fervor express’d, - That in yellow or white she may always be dress’d; - And e’er have the power each dull care to beguile; - Make the summer more gay, and the bleak winter smile! - But if Fortune be blind; or should she not favor - These wishes of mine, you must scorn the deceiver: - And, rising superior to all she can do, - Find a bliss more substantial than she can bestow! - - CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - - _To Miss_ LAURA GUILFORD. - - WORCESTER. - - DEAR LAURA, - -I have spent a very agreeable summer in the country; but am now -preparing to return to town. I anticipate, with pleasure, a restoration -to your society, and that of my other friends there. I should, however, -quit these rural scenes with reluctance, were it not that they are -giving place to the chilling harbingers of approaching winter. They have -afforded charms to me, which the giddy round of fashionable amusements -can never equal. Many, however, think life insupportable, except in the -bustle and dissipation of a city. Of this number is the volatile Amelia -Parr, whom you know as well as I. So extreme is her gaiety, that the -good qualities of her mind are suffered to lie dormant; while the most -restless passions are indulged without restraint. I have just received a -letter from her, which you will see to be characteristic of her -disposition. I enclose that, and my answer to it, for your perusal. Read -both with candour; and believe me ever yours, - - HARRIOT HENLY. - - - _To Miss_ HARRIOT HENLY. - - (_Enclosed in the preceding._) - - BOSTON. - -Where are you, Harriot; and what are you doing? Six long months absent -from the town! What can you find to beguile the tedious hours? Life must -be a burden to you! How can you employ yourself? Employ, did I say? Pho! -I will not use so vulgar a term! I meant amuse! Amusement surely is the -prime end of our existence! You have no plays, no card-parties, nor -assemblies, that are worth mentioning! Intolerably heavy must the -lagging wheels of time roll on! How shall I accelerate them for you? A -new novel may do something towards it! I accordingly send you one, -imported in the last ships. Foreign, to be sure; else it would not be -worth attention. They have attained to a far greater degree of -refinement in the old world, than we have in the new; and are so -perfectly acquainted with the passions, that there is something -extremely amusing and interesting in their plots and counterplots, -operating in various ways, till the dear creatures are jumbled into -matrimony in the prettiest manner that can be conceived! - -_We_, in this country, are too much in a state of nature to write good -novels yet. An American novel is such a moral, sentimental thing, that -it is enough to give any body the vapours to read one. Pray come to town -as soon as possible, and not dream away your best days in obscurity and -insignificance. - -But this boarding school, this Harmony-Grove, where you formerly -resided, has given you strange ideas of the world. With what raptures I -have heard you relate the dull scenes in which you were concerned there! -I am afraid that your diseased taste has now come to a crisis, and you -have commenced prude in earnest! But return to your city friends; and we -will lend our charitable assistance, in restoring you to gaiety and -pleasure. - - AMELIA PARR. - - * * * * * - - _The Answer._ - - WORCESTER. - - DEAR AMELIA, - -Your letter——your rattle, rather, came to hand yesterday. I could not -avoid smiling at your erroneous opinions; and, in my turn, beg leave to -express my wonder at your entertainments in town. True, we have no -plays. We are not obliged by fashion, to sit, half suffocated in a -crowd, for the greater part of the night, to hear the rantings, and see -the extravagant actions of the buskin heroes, (and those not always -consistent with female modesty to witness!) We have no card-parties, -avowedly formed for the purpose of _killing time_! But we have an -agreeable neighborhood, among which we can easily collect a social -circle; and persons of taste, politeness and information, compose it. -Here we enjoy a rational and enlivening conversation, which is at once -refined and improving. We have no assemblies, composed of a promiscuous -crowd of gaudy belles and beaux; many of whom we should despise in a -private company, and deem unworthy of our notice. But we have genteel -balls, the company of which is select, none being admitted but such as -do honor to themselves and each other. The amusement is not protracted -till the yawning listlessness of the company proclaims their incapacity -for enjoyment; but we retire at a seasonable hour, and add to the -pleasure of the evening, that of undisturbed rest through the night. Of -course, we can rise with the sun, and sip the nectarious dews, wafted in -the aromatic gale. We breakfast before the heat of the day has brought -on a languor and deprived us of appetite; after which, we amuse -ourselves with our needles, books, or music; recline on the sofa, or -ramble in the grove, as fancy or convenience directs. In the shady bower -we enjoy either the luxury of solitude, or the pleasures of society; -while you are, the whole time, in the midst of hurry and bustle. Eager -in the chase, _you_ fly from one scene of dissipation to another; but -the fatigue of this ceaseless round, and the exertion of spirits -necessary to support it, render the objects of pursuit tasteless and -insipid. - -Which mode of life, yours or mine, do you now think the most rational, -and productive of the greatest happiness? The boarding school, which you -affect to despise, has, it is true, formed my taste; and I flatter -myself that I shall never wish it altered. - -I shall soon return to town; but not for pleasure. It is not in crowds -that I seek it. Adieu. - - HARRIOT HENLY. - - - _To Miss_ SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - CONCORD. - - DEAR SOPHIA, - -Having been with my aunt Burchel for a fortnight past, I have indulged -myself in reading novels; with which her library is well supplied. - -Richardson’s works have occupied a large portion of the time. What a -surprising command has this great master of the passions over our -feelings! It is happy for his own and succeeding ages, that he embarked -in the cause of virtue. For his influence on the affections of his -readers is so great, that it must have proved very pernicious, had he -enlisted on the side of vice. Though I am not much of a novel-reader, -yet his pen has operated like magic on my fancy; and so extremely was I -interested, that I could have dispensed with sleep or food for the -pleasure I found in reading him. - -By this circumstance I am more than ever convinced of the great caution -which ought to be used in perusing writings of the kind. How secretly -and how insidiously may they undermine the fabric of virtue, by painting -vice and folly in the alluring colours, and with the lively style of -this ingenious author. The mind should be well informed, and the -judgment properly matured, before young people indulge themselves in the -unrestrained perusal of them. - -The examples of virtue and noble qualities, exhibited by the author I -have mentioned, are truly useful; but every writer of novels is not a -Richardson: and what dreadful effects might the specious manners of a -Lovelace have on the inexperienced mind, were they not detected by a -just exhibition of his vices! - -The noble conduct of Clementina and Miss Byron, are worthy of imitation; -while the indiscretion of Clarissa, in putting herself under the -protection of a libertine, is a warning to every fair. But both examples -are often overlooked. While the ear is charmed with the style, and the -fancy riots on the luxuriance of description, which so intimately blend -the charms of virtue and the fascinations of vice, they are not readily -distinguished by all. - -I am not equally pleased with all Richardson’s writings; yet so -multifarious are his excellencies, that his faults appear but specks, -which serve as foils to display his beauties to better advantage. - -Before I went from home I was engaged in reading a course of history; -but I fear I shall not return from this flowery field to the dry and -less pleasing path of more laborious studies. This is one disadvantage -of novel reading. It dissipates the ideas, relaxes the mind, and renders -it inattentive to the more solid and useful branches of literature. -Adieu. - - LAURA GUILFORD. - - - _To Mrs._ WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR MADAM, - -Neither change of place nor situation can alienate my affections from -you, or obliterate my grateful remembrance of your kindness. - -Your admonitions and counsels have been the guide of my youth. The many -advantages which I have already received from them, and the -condescending readiness with which they were always administered, -embolden me to solicit your direction and advice in a still more -important sphere. The recommendation of my parents and friends, seconded -by my own inclination, have induced me to yield my heart and engage my -hand to Mr. Sylvanus Farmington, with whose character you are not -unacquainted. Next Thursday is the era fixed for our union. O madam, how -greatly shall I need a monitor like you! Sensible of my own -imperfections, I look forward with diffidence and apprehension, blended -with pleasing hopes, to this new and untried state! - -Your experienced pen can teach me how to discharge the duties, divide -the cares, and enjoy the pleasures, peculiar to the station on which I -am entering. Pray extend your benevolence, and communicate your -sentiments on female deportment in the connubial relation. Practising -upon such a model, I may still be worthy the appellation, which it will -ever be my ambition to deserve, of your affectionate friend and pupil, - - HARRIOT HENLY. - - - _To Miss_ HARRIOT HENLY. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - -Indeed, my dear Harriot, you are making an important change of -situation; a change interesting to you and your friends; a change which -involves not only your own happiness, but the happiness of the worthy -man whom you have chosen; of the family, over which you are to preside; -and perhaps, too, of that with which you are to be connected. - -I rejoice to hear that this connexion, on which so much depends, is not -hastily formed; but that it is the result of long acquaintance, is -founded on merit, and consolidated by esteem. From characters like -yours, mutually deserving and excellent, brilliant examples of conjugal -virtue and felicity may be expected. Yet as human nature is imperfect, -liable to errors, and apt to deviate from the line of rectitude and -propriety, a monitorial guide may be expedient and useful. Your -partiality has led you to request this _boon_ of me; but diffidence of -my own abilities compels me to decline the arduous task. Nevertheless, I -have it happily in my power to recommend an abler instructor, who has -written professedly upon the subject. THE AMERICAN SPECTATOR, or -MATRIMONIAL PRECEPTOR, lately published by Mr. David West, of Boston, -contains all you can wish. The judicious compiler has collected and -arranged his materials with admirable skill and address. Peruse this -book, and you will be at no loss for counsels to direct, and cautions to -guard you through the intricate cares and duties of the connubial life. -The essays are, chiefly, extracted from the most approved English -writers. The productions of so many able pens, properly disposed, and -exhibited in a new and agreeable light, must not only be entertaining, -but useful to every reader of taste and judgment. I wish this -publication to be considered as a necessary piece of furniture by every -housekeeper. The editor has certainly deserved well of his country; and -Hymen should crown him with unfading garlands. - -I shall visit you, my dear Harriot, after the happy knot (for such I -flatter myself it will prove) is tied. In the mean time, I subscribe -myself, with the most ardent wishes for your prosperity and happiness, -your sincere friend, - - MARY WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - NEWBURYPORT. - -What think you of wit, Cleora? If you estimate it by the worth of your -own, you think it an invaluable jewel. But this jewel is variously set. -Yours is in the pure sterling gold of good sense: yet, as displayed by -some, it glistens on the mere tinsel of gaiety, which will not bear the -scrutinizing eye of judgment. - -Yesterday I received a visit from a young lady, lately moved into this -neighbourhood, who is reputed a wit. Her conversation reminded me of -Pope’s satirical remark: - - “There are, whom Heaven has bless’d with store of wit; - But want as much again to manage it.” - -I found her’s to consist in smart sayings, lively repartees, and -ludicrous allusions. - -So strong was her propensity to display this talent, that she could not -resist any temptation which offered, though it led her to offend against -the rules of politeness and generosity. As some persons of real genius -were present, topics of literature and morality were discussed. Upon -these she was mute as a statue; but whenever the playfulness of her -fancy could find a subject, she was extremely loquacious. This induced -me to suspect that the brilliance of her imagination had dazzled her -understanding, and rendered her negligent of the more solid and useful -acquisitions of the mind. - -Is it not often the case, that those who are distinguished by any -superior endowment, whether personal or mental, are too much elated by -the consciousness of their pre-eminence, and think it sufficient to -counterbalance every deficiency? - -This, Mrs. Williams used to say, is owing to the want of self-knowledge; -which, if once possessed, will enable us properly to estimate our own -characters, and to ascertain with precision wherein we are defective, as -well as wherein we excel. But it is the misfortune of us, young people, -that we seldom attain this valuable science, till we have experienced -many of the ills which result from the want of it. Ambition, vanity, -flattery, or some such dazzling meteor, engrosses our attention, and -renders us blind to more important qualifications. - -But to return to this same wit, of which I was speaking. It is certainly -a very dangerous talent, when imprudently managed. None that we can -possess tends so directly to excite enmity, or destroy friendship. - -An ill-natured wit is of all characters the most universally dreaded. -People of this description are always feared, but rarely loved. Humanity -and benevolence are essentially necessary to render wit agreeable. -Accompanied by these, it cannot fail to please and entertain. - - “Wit, how delicious to man’s dainty taste! - ’Tis precious as the vehicle of sense; - But as its substitute, a dire disease! - Pernicious talent! flatter’d by mankind, - Yet hated too.———————— - Sense is the diamond, weighty, solid, sound; - When cut by wit, it casts a brighter beam; - Yet, wit apart, it is a diamond still. - Wit, widow’d of good sense, is worse than naught; - It hoists more sail to run against a rock.” - -But I believe I cannot give a better proof of my own wit, than to -conclude this scribble before your patience is quite exhausted by the -perusal. Adieu. - - CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - - _To Miss_ HARRIOT HENLY. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR HARRIOT, - -The first moment which I have been able to snatch from the affectionate -embraces of my honored mamma, and my dear sister Maria, is devoted to -you. Judging by the anxious solicitude of my own heart, I know you are -impatient to hear of my safe arrival. It is needless to tell you how -cordially I was received. You have witnessed the mutual tenderness which -actuates our domestic circle. Where this is the governing principle, it -is peculiarly interesting to sensibility. It is extremely exhilarating -to the mind to revisit, after the shortest absence, the place of our -nativity and juvenile happiness. “There is something so seducing in that -spot, in which we first had our existence, that nothing but it can -please. Whatever vicissitudes we experience in life, however we toil, or -wheresoever we wander, our fatigued wishes still recur to home for -tranquillity. We long to die in that spot which gave us birth, and in -that pleasing expectation opiate every calamity.”[2] - -Footnote 2: - - Goldsmith. - -The satisfaction of returning home, however, has not obliterated the -pleasure which I enjoyed on my visit to you. Does not a change of scene -and situation contribute to the happiness of life? The natural love of -this variety seems wisely implanted in the human breast; for it enables -us to accommodate ourselves with facility to the different circumstances -in which we are placed. I believe that no pleasures make so deep an -impression on the memory, as those of the first and most innocent period -of our lives. With what apparent delight do persons, advanced in years, -re-trace their puerile feats and diversions! “The hoary head looks back -with a smile of complacency, mixed with regret, on the season when -health glowed on the cheek, when lively spirits warmed the heart, and -when toil strung the nerves with vigour.”[3] - -Footnote 3: - - Knox. - -The pleasures of childhood and youth, when regulated by parental wisdom, -and sweetened by filial affection and obedience, must be grateful to the -recollection at any age: and for this plain reason, because innocence -and simplicity are their leading traits. How soothing, how animating, -then, must be reflection, at the evening of a life, wholly spent in -virtue and rectitude! - -Pope observes that “Every year is a critique on the last. The man -despises the boy, the philosopher the man, and the Christian all.” Happy -are those who can take a retrospect of all, with the supporting -consciousness that each part has been rightly performed! Adieu. - - ANNA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - BOSTON. - -I am impatient for an opportunity of returning your civilities, my dear -Matilda; and if possible, of repaying you some part of the pleasure, -which you so liberally afforded me, during my late visit to your -hospitable mansion. For this purpose, I must insist on the performance -of your promise to spend the winter in town. It is true that I cannot -contribute to your amusement in kind. Yet, according to the generally -received opinion, that variety is necessary to the enjoyment of life, we -may find ours mutually heightened by the exchange. Delightful rambles, -and hours of contemplative solitude, free from the interruptions of -formality and fashion, I cannot insure; but you may depend on all that -friendship and assiduity can substitute; and while the bleak winds are -howling abroad, a cheerful fireside, and a social circle, may dispel the -gloom of the season. The pleasures of our family are very local. Few are -sought, in which the understanding and affections can have no share. For -this reason, a select, not a promiscuous acquaintance is cultivated. And -however unfashionable our practice may be deemed, we can find -entertainment, even in the dull hours of winter, without recourse to -cards. Almost every other recreation affords some exercise and -improvement to the body or mind, or both; but from this neither can -result. The whole attention is absorbed by the game. Reason lies -dormant, and the passions only are awake. However little is depending, -the parties are frequently as much agitated by hope and fear, as if -their all were at stake. It is difficult for the vanquished not to feel -chagrin; while the victors are gratified at the expense of their -friends. But the principal objection with me, is the utter exclusion of -conversation; a source of pleasure, and of profit too, for which I can -admit nothing as an equivalent. Winter evenings are peculiarly adapted -to this rational and refined entertainment. Deprived of that variety of -scenery, and those beauties of nature, which the vernal and autumnal -seasons exhibit, we are obliged to have recourse to the fireside for -comfort. Here we have leisure to collect our scattered ideas, and to -improve, by social intercourse, and the exertion of our mental powers. - -Our sex are often rallied on their volubility: and, for myself, I -frankly confess, that I am so averse to taciturnity, and so highly prize -the advantages of society and friendship, that I had rather plead guilty -to the charge than relinquish them. - - “Hast thou no friend to set thy mind a-broach? - Good sense will stagnate. Thoughts shut up, want air, - And spoil, like bales unopen’d to the sun. - Had thought been all, sweet speech had been deny’d; - Speech, thought’s canal! Speech, thought’s criterion too. - Thought, in the mine, may come forth gold or dross; - When coin’d in word, we know its real worth: - If sterling, store it for thy future use; - ’Twill buy thee benefit, perhaps renown. - Thought, too, deliver’d, is the more possess’d; - Teaching, we learn; and giving, we retain - The births of intellect: when dumb, forgot. - Speech ventilates our intellectual fire: - Speech burnishes our mental magazine: - Brightens for ornament, and whets for use.” - -Come then, Matilda, participate the pleasures, and accelerate the -improvement, of your affectionate friend, - - LAURA GUILFORD. - - - _To Miss_ LAURA GUILFORD. - - BEVERLY. - - DEAR LAURA, - -Yours of the 9th ult. has just come to hand. It gave me renewed -experience of the truth of the observation, that next to the personal -presence and conversation, is the epistolary correspondence of a friend. -I am preparing, with the most lively sensations of pleasure, to gratify -my own wishes, and comply with your polite invitation. The romantic -beauty of the rural scenes has forsaken me; and what can so amply -compensate for their absence, as the charms you offer? - -I envy you nothing which the town affords, but the advantages you derive -from the choice of society adapted to your own taste. Your sentiments of -the fashionable diversion of card-playing, are, in my view, perfectly -just. I believe that many people join in it, because it is the _ton_, -rather than from any other motive. And as such persons generally pay the -greatest deference to Lord Chesterfield’s opinions and maxims, I have -often wondered how they happened to overlook, or disregard his -animadversions upon this subject; and have felt a strong inclination to -tell them, that this _all-accomplished_ master of politeness, and oracle -of pleasure, expressly says, “All amusements, where neither the -understanding nor the senses can have the least share, I look upon as -frivolous, and the resources of little minds, who either do not think, -or do not love to think.” - -We had a pretty party here, last evening; and a party it literally was; -for it consisted entirely of ladies. This singular circumstance was -remarked by one of the company, who, at least, pretended to think it -agreeable, because, said she, we can now speak without restraint, or the -fear of criticism. I confess that I was not prude enough to acquiesce in -her opinion. - -Ladies of delicacy and refinement will not countenance or support a -conversation, which gentlemen of sense and sentiment can disapprove. As -each were formed for social beings, and depend on the other for social -happiness, I imagine that society receives its greatest charm from a -mutual interchange of sentiment and knowledge. - -“Both sexes are reciprocal instruments of each other’s improvement. The -rough spirit of the one is tempered by the gentleness of the other, -which has likewise its obligations to that spirit. Men’s sentiments -contract a milder turn in the company of women, who, on the other hand, -find their volatility abated in that of the men. Their different -qualities, intermingling, form a happy symphony. From their intimate -conjunction, their real advantages must be common and inseparable; and -as for those ridiculous wranglings about superiority, they may be -reckoned insults to nature, and betray a want of a due sense of its wise -and gracious dispensations.”[4] - -Footnote 4: - - The Ladies’ Friend. - -Many ladies affect to think it inconsistent with female reserve, to -acknowledge themselves pleased with the company of the other sex; but -while such are the objects and advantages of a mixed society, I blush -not to own myself desirous of its cultivation. Adieu. - - MATILDA FIELDING. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR CAROLINE, - -I take the liberty to send you Bennet’s Letters. When my mamma put them -into my hand, Sophia, said she, I recommend this book to your attentive -perusal. It highly deserves it, and will richly reward your labour. You -have, indeed, completed your school education; but you have much yet to -learn. Improvements in knowledge are necessarily progressive. The human -mind is naturally active and eager in pursuit of information; which we -have various and continual means of accumulating: but never will you -have a more favourable opportunity for the cultivation of your mind, -than you now enjoy. You are now free from those domestic cares and -avocations, which may hereafter fall to your lot, and occupy most of -your time. Speculation must then give place to practice. Be assiduous, -therefore, to increase the fund, that it may yield you a competent -interest, and afford you a constant resource of support and enjoyment. - -With these words she withdrew, while I was still listening to the sweet -accents of maternal tenderness and discretion, which vibrated on my ear, -even after her departure. - -I find it worthy the recommendation of so good a judge. As a moral -writer, the precepts and observations of its author are excellent; as a -religious one, his piety is exemplary, and his instructions improving. -His selection of books, which he deems most proper for our sex, though -too numerous, perhaps, may, notwithstanding, assist and direct the young -in their course of reading. - -Who would not imitate his Louisa? In her he has forcibly displayed the -beauties of an amiable disposition, and the advantages which even _that_ -may derive from a virtuous and religious education. - -These letters are not scholastic and elaborate dissertations; they are -addressed to the heart; they are the native language of affection: and -they can hardly fail to instil the love of virtue into every mind -susceptible of its charms. - -If you have not read them, I will venture to predict that they will -afford you entertainment, as well as instruction; and if you _have_, -they will bear a second perusal. Indeed, every valuable book should be -re-perused. On a first reading, our curiosity to know something of all -it contains, hurries us forward with a rapidity which outstrips both the -memory and judgment. - -When this predominant passion is gratified, an attentive review will -commonly furnish many useful and important lessons, which had nearly or -quite escaped our notice before. - -This, by some, is deemed too laborious a task. They prefer company and -conversation to reading of any kind; and allege, in defence of their -opinion, that a knowledge of the world, and of human nature, together -with that ease and gracefulness of manners, which are of the utmost -consequence to all who would make a respectable figure in life, are much -better obtained in this way, than by the cold and unimpassioned perusal -of books. - -But is not every acquisition of this sort merely superficial? Need we -not a guide, superior to our own judgment and experience, to point out -the line of duty and propriety, in the various conditions and relations -of our existence? - -Our acquaintance with living characters and manners can afford us but a -very limited view of mankind, in the different periods and stages of -society. The inquisitive mind labours to extend its knowledge to the -most distant climes and remote antiquity; and craves other materials for -the exercise of its reflecting powers, than can be derived from -occasional and desultory conversation. Now, by what means can this -laudable curiosity be so effectually satisfied, as by the perusal of -judicious and well chosen books? Not that I would depreciate the value -of good company (for I esteem it highly;) but add its many advantages to -those which reading affords. This combination must have a happy tendency -to give us possession, both of the virtues and graces; and to render our -attainments at once solid and ornamental. - -What think you, Caroline? Do you agree with me in opinion? Let me hear -from you by the first opportunity; and believe me yours most sincerely. - - SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - - _To Miss_ SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - NEWBURYPORT. - -I thank you, my dear friend, for the book you were so obliging as to -send me; and for the letter which accompanied it. The book I had read; -but as you justly observe, I must be a gainer by a second perusal. - -Upon the subject of reading, I perfectly accord with you in sentiment. -It is an amusement, of which I was always enthusiastically fond. Mrs. -Williams regulated my taste; and, by directing and maturing my judgment, -taught me to make it a source of refined and substantial pleasure. I do -not wish to pursue study as a profession, nor to become a learned lady; -but I would pay so much attention to it, as to taste the delights of -literature, and be qualified to bear a part in rational and improving -conversation. Indeed, I would treasure up such a fund of useful -knowledge, as may properly direct my course through life, and prove an -antidote against the vexations and disappointments of the world. I -think, Sophia, that our sex stand in special need of such a resource to -beguile the solitary hours which a domestic station commonly imposes. Is -it not for the want of this that some females furnish a pretext for the -accusation (which is illiberally brought against all) of having recourse -to scandal, and the sallies of indelicate mirth? Conversation requires a -perpetual supply of materials from the mind: and accordingly as the mind -has been cultivated or neglected, dignified or degrading subjects will -be introduced. - -I received a letter yesterday from our lively and lovely friend, Anna -Williams. How delightfully blended in this charming girl, are vivacity -and sentiment, ease and propriety. Adieu. - - CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - - _To Miss_ MARIA WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - -So often, my dear Maria, has the pen of the divine, the moralist, and -the novelist been employed on the subject of female frailty and -seduction; and so pathetically has each described the folly and misery -of the fatal delusion which involves many in disgrace, that I am -astonished when I see those, who have the best means of information, -heedlessly sacrificing their reputation, peace and happiness to the -specious arts of the libertine! In this case it is common for our sex to -rail against the other, and endeavor to excite the pity of the world by -painting the advantage which has been taken of their credulity and -weakness. But are we not sufficiently apprised of the enemies we have to -encounter? And have we not adequate motives to circumspection and -firmness? - -I am generally an advocate for my own sex—but when they suffer -themselves to fall a prey to seducers, their pusillanimity admits no -excuse. I am bold to affirm that every woman, by behaving with propriety -on all occasions, may not only resist temptation, but repel the first -attempts upon her honor and virtue. - -That levity of deportment, which invites and encourages designers, ought -studiously to be avoided. Flattery and vanity are two of the most -dangerous foes to the sex. A fondness for admiration insensibly throws -off their guard, and leads them to listen and give credit to the -professions of those who lie in wait to deceive. - -The following remarks, though severe, perhaps can hardly be deemed -inconsistent with the character which their author assumes.[5] “Women -would do well to forbear their declamations against the falsity and -wickedness of men; the fault is theirs, to fall into such coarse-spun -snares as are laid for them. - -Footnote 5: - - The Ladies’ Friend. - -“That servile obsequiousness which woman should immediately look upon as -the mark of fraud, and which should make them apprehend a surprise, is -the very thing which allures them, and renders them soon the victims of -perjury and inconstancy; the just punishment of a disposition which -fixes their inclinations on superficial qualities. It is this -disposition which draws after them a crowd of empty fops, who if they -have any meaning at all, it is only to deceive. Something pleasing in a -man’s person, a giddy air, a perpetual levity, supply the place of -valuable endowments.” - -A recent and singular adventure has rendered observations of this sort -peculiarly striking to my mind; which may account for the subject and -the length of this letter. - -I will give you a detail of it, though I must conceal the real names of -the parties concerned. - -Yesterday, the weather being very fine, and the sleighing excellent, -several of our family, with two or three friends, were induced to make -an excursion a few miles in the country. We stopped at a house which had -formerly been a tavern, and in which we had often been well entertained -on similar occasions. As we were in haste to receive the benefit of a -good fire, we did not notice the removal of the sign, nor advert to the -possibility of its being converted into a private mansion. Being very -cold, I stepped first out of the sleigh and ran hastily in; leaving the -gentlemen to exercise their gallantry with the other ladies. The room I -entered had no fire. I therefore opened the door which led to the next -apartment, when I beheld the beautiful and admired Clarinda sitting in -an easy chair, pale and wan, with an infant in her arms! I stood mute -and motionless, till the woman of the house appeared, to conduct me to -another room. Confusion and shame were visibly depicted in Clarinda’s -countenance; and, unable to meet my eye, she threw her handkerchief over -her face, and fell back in the chair. - -I followed the good woman, and apologising for my intrusion, told her -the cause. She recollected my having been there before, and readily -excused my freedom. - -By this time the rest of the company, who had been shown into a decent -parlour, were inquiring for me; and I could scarcely find opportunity to -request my conductress to ask Clarinda’s forgiveness in my name, and to -assure her of my silence, before I had joined them. I assumed an -appearance of cheerfulness very foreign to the feelings of my heart, and -related my mistake without any mention of the melancholy discovery I had -made. We prevailed on the woman to accommodate us with tea and coffee, -as we wished to ride no further. While preparations were making she came -in to lay the table, and as she withdrew, gave me a token to follow her; -when she informed me that Clarinda had been extremely overcome by my -detecting her situation, but being somewhat recovered desired a private -interview. I accordingly repaired to her apartment, where I found her -bathed in tears. Pity operated in my breast, and with an air of -tenderness I offered her my hand; but she withheld hers, exclaiming in -broken accents, O no! I am polluted—I have forfeited your friendship—I -am unworthy even of your compassion. - -I begged her to be calm, and promised her that she should suffer no -inconvenience from my knowledge of her condition. - -She thanked me for my assurances, and subjoined that, since she knew the -candor and generosity of my disposition, she would entrust me with every -circumstance relative to her shameful fall; when, after a considerable -pause, she proceeded nearly in the following words. - -“Though our acquaintance has been for some time suspended, and though we -have lived in different parts of the town, yet common fame has doubtless -informed you that I was addressed by the gay, and to me, too charming -Florimel! To the most captivating form, he superadded the winning graces -of politeness, and all those insinuating arts which imperceptibly engage -the female heart. - -“His flattering attentions, and apparent ardour of affection, were to my -inexperienced and susceptible mind, proofs of his sincerity; and the -effusions of the most lively passion, were returned with unsuspecting -confidence. - -“My father, strict in his principles, and watchful for my real welfare, -disapproved his suit; alleging that although Florimel was calculated to -please in the gayer moments of life, he was nevertheless destitute of -those sentiments of religion and virtue, which are essentially requisite -to durable felicity. But I could not be persuaded that he lacked any -perfection which maturer years would not give him; and therefore finding -my attachment unconquerable, my father reluctantly acquiesced in the -proposed connexion. My ill-judged partiality for this ungenerous man -absorbed every other passion and pursuit; while he took advantage of my -yielding fondness, and assumed liberties which I knew to be -inconsistent, with delicacy, but had not resolution to repel. One -encroachment succeeded another, and every concession was claimed and -granted as a proof of love, till at length he became absolute master of -my will and my person. Shame and remorse soon roused me to a sense of my -guilt, and I demanded an immediate performance of his promise of -marriage. This, under one pretext or another, he constantly evaded. His -visits daily became less frequent, and his attentions less -assiduous—while the most poignant anguish of mind deprived me of every -comfort. I found myself reduced to the humiliating alternative of -entreating my seducer to screen me from infamy by the name of wife, -though he should never consider or treat me as such. To this he -insultingly replied, that my situation must necessarily detect our -illicit commerce; and his pride could never brook the reputation of -having a wife whose chastity had been sacrificed. As soon as rage and -resentment, which at first took from me the power of utterance, would -permit, Wretch! exclaimed I, is it not to you the sacrifice has been -made? Who but you has triumphed over my virtue, and subjected me to the -disgrace and wretchedness I now suffer? Was it not in token of my regard -for you that I yielded to your solicitations? And is this the requital I -am to receive? Base, ungrateful man! I despise your meanness! I detest -the ungenerous disposition you betray, and henceforth reject all -intercourse and society with you! I will throw myself on the mercy of my -injured parents, and renounce you forever. - -“Seeing me almost frantic, he endeavored to soothe and appease me. He -apologized for the harshness of his language, and even made professions -of unabated affection; but gave as a reason for deferring the conjugal -union, at present, that commercial affairs obliged him to sail -immediately for Europe; assuring me at the same time that on his return -he would not fail to renew and consummate the connexion. To this I gave -no credit, and therefore made no reply. He then requested me to accept a -purse to defray my expenses, during his absence, which I rejected with -disdain; and he departed. The distress and despair of my mind were -inexpressible. For some days I resigned myself entirely to the agonizing -pangs of grief. My parents imputed my dejection to Florimel’s departure, -and strove to console me. It was not long, however, before my mother -discovered the real cause. In her, resentment gave place to compassion; -but the anger of my father could not be appeased. He absolutely forbade -me his presence for some time; but my mother at length prevailed on him -to see, and assure me of forgiveness and restoration to favor, if I -would consent to renounce and disown my child; to which, not then -knowing the force of maternal affection, I readily consented. This place -was privately procured for me, and hither, under pretence of spending a -month or two with a friend in the country, I retired. To-morrow my dear -babe is to be taken from me! It is to be put to nurse, I know not where! -All I am told is, that it shall be well taken care of! Constantly will -its moans haunt my imagination, while I am deprived even of the hope of -ministering to its wants; but must leave it to execrate the hour which -gave it birth, and deprive it of a parent’s attention and kindness. - -“As soon as possible, I shall return to my father’s house; and as I am -unknown here, and you are the only person, out of our family, who shares -the dreadful secret, I flatter myself that my crime may still be -concealed from the world. The reproaches of my own mind I can never -escape. Conscious guilt will give the aspect of accusation to every eye -that beholds me; and however policy may compel me to wear the mask of -gaiety and ease, my heart will be wrung with inexpressible anguish by -the remembrance of my folly, and always alive to the distressing -sensations of remorse and shame! Oh Julia! you have witnessed my -disgrace! pity and forgive me! Perhaps I once appeared as virtuous and -respectable as you now do; but how changed! how fallen! how debased! -Learn from my fate to despise the flattery of the worthless coxcomb, and -the arts of the abandoned libertine.” - -By this time I was summoned to tea; when giving all the consolation in -my power to the unhappy Clarinda, I rejoined my company; and to prevent -their inquisitiveness about my absence, told them I had been with a sick -woman, upon whom I had accidentally intruded when I first came in; and -that she had detained me, all this time, by a recital of her complaints -and misfortunes. This account satisfied their curiosity; but the -melancholy into which my mind had been thrown, was not easily -dissipated; nor could I, without doing violence to my feelings, put on -the appearance of my usual cheerfulness and ease. - -Here my dear Maria, is a picture of the frailty and weakness of our sex! -How much reason have we then to “watch, and pray, that we enter not into -temptation!” - -With affectionate regards to your mamma and sister, I subscribe myself -yours most sincerely, - - JULIA GREENFIELD. - - - _To Miss_ JULIA GREENFIELD. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - MY DEAR FRIEND, - -I was much affected by the wo-fraught tale which you gave me in your -last. We cannot too much regret that such instances of duplicity and -folly are ever exhibited. They are alike disgraceful to both sexes, and -demonstrate the debasing and fatal tendency of the passions, when -suffered to predominate. - -Your observations upon our sex I believe to be just, though many would -probably deem them severe. However, I think it not much to the honor of -the masculine character, which the God of nature designed for a defence -and safeguard to female virtue and happiness, to take advantage of the -tender affection of the unsuspecting and too credulous fair; and, in -return for her love and confidence, perfidiously to destroy her peace of -mind, and deprive her of that reputation which might have rendered her a -useful and ornamental member of society. True, we ought to take warning -by such examples of treachery and deceit; yet how much more conducive to -the honor and happiness of our species, were there no occasion to -apprehend such ungenerous requitals of our sincerity and frankness. - -Yesterday, my mamma took the liberty to read that part of your letter, -which contains the story of Clarinda, to her pupils, and to make such -comments upon it as the subject suggested; during which we could not but -observe the extreme emotion of one of the misses, a most amiable girl of -about sixteen. When the paragraph respecting Clarinda’s disowning her -child was read, she hastily rose and in broken accents begged leave to -withdraw. This was granted without any inquiry into the cause; though -our curiosity, as you may well suppose, was much excited. After we were -dismissed, my mamma prevailed on her to tell the reason of her -agitation. - -“I am,” said she, “the illegitimate offspring of parents, whom I am told -are people of fortune and fashion. The fear of disgrace overcame the -dictates of natural affection, and induced my mother to abandon me in my -infancy. She accordingly gave me away, with a large sum of money, which -she vainly imagined would procure me kind and good treatment. But -unhappily for me the people to whom I was consigned, availed themselves -of their security from inspection and inquiry, abused the trust reposed -in them, and exposed me to the greatest hardships. As they were persons -of vulgar minds and unfeeling hearts, they did not commiserate my -friendless condition. My quick sensibility incurred their displeasure or -derision. I was often insultingly reproached with the misfortune of my -birth; while the tears which these ungenerous reflections extorted from -me, were either mocked or punished. I had a thirst for knowledge; but -they allowed me no time for acquiring it, alleging they could not -support me in idleness, but that I must earn my living as they did -theirs, by hard labor. Oppressed by these insults, I bore the galling -yoke of their authority with the utmost impatience. When screened from -observation, my tears flowed without restraint; and the idea of my -parents’ cruelty, in thus subjecting me to infamy and wretchedness, -continually haunted my imagination. Sometimes I fancied my mother in -view, and exposing my tattered raiment, expostulated with her concerning -the indignities I suffered, and the unreasonable hardship of leaving me -to bear all the punishment of my guilty birth! At other times I painted -to myself a father, in some gentleman of pleasing aspect; and fondly -indulged the momentary transport of throwing myself at the feet of one, -whom I could call by that venerable and endearing name! Too soon, -however, did the reverse of parental tenderness awake me from my -delusive reveries. - -“In this manner I lingered away my existence, till I was twelve years -old; when going one day to the house of a gentleman in the neighborhood, -to which I was often sent to sell herbs, and other trifles, I was -directed into the parlor, where the most beautiful sight in nature -opened to my view; while the contrast between my own situation, and that -of children blessed with affectionate parents, gave me the most painful -sensations. The lady of the house was surrounded by her four sons, the -eldest of whom was reading lessons, which she most pathetically -inculcated upon all. As the door was open, I stood some minutes -unobserved; and was so delighted with the tender accents in which her -instructions were imparted, and the cheerful obedience with which they -were received, that I had no disposition to interrupt them. - -“At length I was seen, and bid to come in. But when questioned about my -errand I was so absorbed in the contemplation of maternal and filial -love, exhibited in this happy group, that my tongue refused utterance, -and I burst into tears. The children gathered around and inquired what -ailed the poor little girl? But when the lady took me by the hand, and -kindly asked what was the matter, I could not restrain or conceal my -feelings. When my tears had relieved me, I related the cause of my -grief; describing my own situation, and the effect which its contrast -had produced on my mind. - -“She was affected by my story, and seemed pleased with my sensibility; -while the children lamented my misfortunes, and artlessly requested -their mamma to let me come and live with them. - -“Little did I then expect so great a favor; but to my surprise as well -as joy, Mrs. ——, the lady of whom I have been speaking, and by whom I am -put under your care, came a few days after, and asked the people where I -lived, if they were willing to part with me. By their consent she took -me home, and has ever since treated me like a child. - -“I am now happy beyond expression. My gratitude to my benefactress, who, -guided by a wise and good Providence, has snatched me from obscurity and -misery, and given me so many advantages for improvement, is unbounded. - -“But the idea that any helpless innocent should be unnaturally exposed -to the sufferings which I have experienced, is insupportably distressing -to my imagination. - -“Let my story, if possible, be told to Clarinda, that she may be induced -to have compassion upon her defenceless offspring.” - -You are at liberty, therefore, my dear Julia, to make what use you -please of this letter. I shall make no comments upon the subject of it, -nor add any thing more to its length, but that I am affectionately -yours. - - MARIA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ ANNA WILLIAMS. - - SALEM. - - DEAR ANNA, - -My contemplated visit to Harmony-Grove must be deferred. A severe -illness has lately confined my mamma to her chamber. This claimed all my -time and attention, and called me to a new scene of care; that of a -family which I was obliged to superintend during her indisposition. Her -recovery has, at length, restored tranquillity and joy to our abode; but -she has not yet resumed the direction of her household affairs. To this, -she tells me she is reconciled by the hope that experience may render me -an adept in domestic economy. Indeed, Anna, I think this an essential -branch of female education; and I question whether it can be acquired by -mere speculation. To me it is plain that every lady ought to have some -practice in the management of a family, before she takes upon herself -the important trust. - -Do not many of the mistakes and infelicities of life arise from a -deficiency in this point? - -Young ladies of fashion are not obliged to the task, and have too seldom -any inclination to perform duties which require so much time and -attention; and with which, perhaps, they have injudiciously been taught -to connect the idea of servility. Hence it is, that when called to -preside over families, they commit many errors, during their novitiate, -at least, which are alike detrimental to their interest and happiness. -How necessary is it, then, to avoid this complication of evils by a -seasonable application to those offices of housewifery, which may one -day become our province. - -Early rising, I find a great assistance in my present occupation. It is -almost incredible how much may be gained by a diligent improvement of -those hours which are but too commonly lost in sleep. I arose this -morning with the dawn. The serenity of the sky and the fragrance of the -air invited me abroad. The calmness which universally prevailed served -to tranquillize my mind, while the receding shades of night, and the -rising beams of day, formed a contrasted assemblage of the beautiful, -the splendid, the solemn, and the sublime. The silence which pervaded -the surrounding scenery was interrupted only by the melody of the -feathered songsters, who seemed to rejoice in this undisturbed -opportunity of praising their maker. My heart expanded with gratitude -and love to the all-bountiful Author of nature; and so absorbed was I in -the most delightful meditations, that I saw with regret the hour -approaching which must again call me to the active duties of domestic -and social life. These however, are objects of real moment, and cannot -innocently be disregarded. They give a relish to amusement, and even to -devotion, which neither the dissipated nor the recluse can know. Adieu. - - CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - - _To Miss_ HARRIOT HENLY. - - BEVERLY. - - DEAR HARRIOT, - -I sincerely thank you for your affectionate letter, by the last post, -and for the book with which it was accompanied. The very title is -sufficient to rouse the feelings and attract the attention of the -patriotic mind. Beacon-Hill claims a conspicuous place in the history of -our country. The subject of this poem must be highly interesting to -every true American; while the genius it displays cannot fail to gratify -every poetical taste. Philenia’s talents justly entitle her to a rank -among the literary ornaments of Columbia. - -I have been reviewing Millot’s Elements of Ancient and Modern History; -and recommend it to your re-perusal. It is undoubtedly the most useful -compendium extant. The tedious minuteness and prolix details of sieges -and battles, negotiations and treaties, which fatigue the reader and -oppress the memory in most works of the kind, are happily avoided in -this; while the elegance, simplicity, conciseness and perspicuity of the -style, render it intelligible to every capacity, and pleasing to every -taste. To those who have a relish for history, but want leisure to give -full scope, Millot is well calculated to afford both information and -entertainment. It is an objection, commonly made by our sex to studies -of this nature, that they are dry and elaborate; that they yield little -or no exercise to the more sprightly faculties of the mind; that the -attention is confined to an uninteresting and barren detail of facts, -while the imagination pants in vain for the flowery wreaths of -decoration. - -This is a plausible excuse for those who read only for amusement, and -are willing to sacrifice reason, and the enlargement of their minds, to -the gaudy phantom of a day; but it can never be satisfactory to the -person, who wishes to combine utility with pleasure, and dignity with -relaxation. - -History improves the understanding, and furnishes a knowledge of human -nature and human events, which may be useful as well as ornamental -through life. “History,” says the late celebrated Gauganelli, “brings -together all ages and all mankind in one point of view. Presenting a -charming landscape to the mental eye, it gives colour to the thoughts, -soul to the actions, and life to the dead; and brings them upon the -stage of the world, as if they were again living; but with this -difference, that it is not to flatter, but to judge them.” - -The duties and avocations of our sex will not often admit of a close and -connected course of reading. Yet a general knowledge of the necessary -subjects may undoubtedly be gained even in our leisure hours; provided -we bestow them not on works of mere taste and fancy, but on the perusal -of books calculated to enrich the understanding with durable -acquisitions. - -The sincerest wishes for your health and happiness glow in the breast of -your affectionate - - MATILDA FIELDING. - - - _To Miss_ MARIA WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - MY DEAR MARIA, - -Since I wrote you last, I have made an agreeable visit to my good friend -Sylvia Star. After rambling in the fields and gardens till we were -fatigued, we went into her brother’s library. He was in a studious -attitude, but gave us a polite reception. We are come, Amintor, said I. -Be so kind as to furnish us with some instructive page, which combines -entertainment and utility; and while it informs the mind, delights the -imagination. I am not happy enough to know your taste respecting books, -said he; and therefore, may not make a proper selection. Here, however, -is an author highly spoken of by a lady who has lately added to the -number of literary publications; handing me Sterne’s Sentimental -Journey. I closed and returned the book. You have, indeed, mistaken my -taste, said I. Wit, blended with indelicacy, never meets my approbation. -While the fancy is allured, and the passions awakened, by this pathetic -humourist, the foundations of virtue are insidiously undermined, and -modest dignity insensibly betrayed. Well, said he, smilingly, perhaps -you are seriously inclined. If so, this volume of sermons may possibly -please you. Still less, rejoined I. The serious mind must turn with -disgust from the levity which pervades these discourses, and from the -indecent flow of mirth and humour, which converts even the sacred -writings, and the most solemn subjects of religion, into frolic and -buffoonery. Since such is your opinion of this celebrated writer, said -he, I will not insult your feelings by offering you his Tristram Shandy. -But here is another wit, famous for his “purity.” Yes, said I, if -obscene and vulgar ideas, if ill-natured remarks and filthy allusions by -purity, Swift undoubtedly bears the palm from all his contemporaries. As -far as grammatical correctness and simplicity of language can deserve -the epithet, his advocates may enjoy their sentiments unmolested; but in -any other sense of the word, he has certainly no claim to “purity.” I -conceive his works, notwithstanding, to be much less pernicious in their -tendency, than those of Sterne. They are not so enchanting in their -nature, nor so subtle in their effects. In the one, the noxious -insinuations of licentious wit are concealed under the artful -blandishments of sympathetic sensibility; while we at once recoil from -the rude assault which is made upon our delicacy, by the roughness and -vulgarity of the other. - -Choose then, said Amintor, for yourself. I availed myself of his offer, -and soon fixed my eyes upon Dr. Belknap’s History of New Hampshire, and -American Biography; both of which I have since read with the greatest -satisfaction. - -By this judicious and impartial historian, we are led from its first -settlement to trace the progress of the infant colony. We accompany its -inhabitants in their enterprizes, their dangers, their toils, and their -successes. We take an interest in their prosperity; and we tremble at -the dreadful outrages of the barbarous foe. Our imagination is again -recalled to the gradual advance of population and agriculture. We behold -the wilderness blooming as the rose, and the haunts of savage beasts, -and more savage men, converted into fruitful fields and pleasant -habitations. The arts and sciences flourish; peace and harmony are -restored; and we are astonished at the amazing contrast, produced in -little more than a century. - -When we return to the American Biography, gratitude glows in our bosoms -towards those intrepid and active adventurers, who traversed a trackless -ocean, explored an unknown region, and laid the foundation of empire and -independence in this western hemisphere. The undaunted resolution, and -cool, determined wisdom of Columbus, fill us with profound admiration. -We are constrained to pay a tribute of just applause to the generosity -of a female mind exemplified in Isabella, who, to surmount every -obstacle, nobly consented to sacrifice even her personal ornaments to -the success of this glorious expedition. - -The daring spirit of Captain Smith, and the prudence, policy and -magnanimity of his conduct to the treacherous natives, and to his -equally treacherous and ungrateful countrymen, exhibit an example of -patriotism and moderation, which at once commands our applause, and -interests our feelings. While we tremble and recoil at his dreadful -situation, when bending his neck to receive the murderous stroke of -death, the native virtues of our sex suddenly reanimate our frame; and -with sensations of rapture, we behold compassion, benevolence, and -humanity, triumphant even in a savage breast; and conspicuously -displayed in the conduct of the amiable though uncivilized Pocahontas! -Nor are the other characters in this work uninteresting; and I am happy -to find that the same masterly pen is still industriously employed for -the public good;[6] and that a second volume of American Biography is -now in press. - -Footnote 6: - - How vain are our expectations! While the types were setting for this - very page, Dr. Belknap suddenly expired in a fit.—_Printer._ - -In reviewing this letter, I am astonished at my own presumption, in -undertaking to play the critic. My imagination has outstripped my -judgment; but I will arrest its career, and subscribe myself most -affectionately yours. - - SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - - _To Miss_ ANNA WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR ANNA, - -I retired, after breakfast this morning, determined to indulge myself in -my favorite amusement, and write you a long letter. I had just mended my -pen and folded my paper, when I was informed that three ladies waited -for me in the parlor. I stepped down and found Lucinda P——, Flavia F——, -and Delia S——. They were gaily dressed, and still more gaily disposed. -“We called,” said they, “to invite you, Miss Maria, to join our party -for a shopping tour.” Loath to have the ideas dissipated, which I had -collected in my pericranium, for the purpose of transmitting to a -beloved sister, I declined accepting their invitation; alleging that I -had no occasion to purchase any thing to day; and therefore begged to be -excused from accompanying them. They laughed at my reason for not -engaging in the expedition. “Buying,” said their principal speaker, “is -no considerable part of our plan, I assure you. Amusement is what we are -after. We frankly acknowledge it a delightful gratification of our -vanity, to traverse Cornhill, to receive the obsequious congees, and to -call forth the gallantry and activity of the beaux, behind the counter; -who, you must know, are extremely alert when we belles appear. The -waving of our feathers, and the attractive airs we assume, command the -profoundest attention, both of master and apprentices; who, duped by our -appearance, suffer less brilliant customers to wait, or even to depart -without notice, till we have tumbled over and refused half the goods in -the shop. We then bid a very civil adieu; express our regret at having -given so much trouble; are assured in return that it has been rather a -pleasure; and leave them their trouble for their pains.” - -A most insignificant amusement this, said I to myself! How little can it -redound to the honor and happiness of these unthinking girls, thus to -squander their time in folly’s giddy maze! They undoubtedly wish to -attract eclat; but they would do well to remember those words of the -satirist, which, with the alteration of a single term, may be applied to -them. - - “Columbia’s daughters, much more fair than nice, - Too fond of admiration, lose their price! - Worn in the public eye, give cheap delight - To throngs, and tarnish to the sated sight.” - -Viewing their conduct in this light, I withstood their solicitations, -though I palliated my refusal in such a manner as to give no umbrage. - -Of all expedients to kill time, this appears to me, as I know it will to -you, the most ridiculous and absurd. - -What possible satisfaction can result from such a practice? It certainly -fatigues the body; and is it any advantage to the mind? Does it enlarge -the understanding, inspire useful ideas, or furnish a source of pleasing -reflection? True, it may gratify a vitiated imagination, and exhilarate -a light and trifling mind. But these ought to be restrained and -regulated by reason and judgment, rather than indulged. - -I wish those ladies, who make pleasure the supreme object of their -pursuit, and argue in vindication of their conduct, that - - “Pleasure is good, and they for pleasure made,” - -would confine themselves to that species which - - “Neither blushes nor expires.” - -The domestic virtues, if duly cultivated, might certainly occupy those -hours, which they are now solicitous to dissipate, both with profit and -delight. “But it is time enough to be domesticated,” say they, “when we -are placed at the head of families, and necessarily confined to care and -labor.” - -Should not the mind, however, be seasonably inured to the sphere of life -which Providence assigns us? - - “To guide the pencil, turn th’ instructive page; - To lend new flavor to the fruitful year, - And heighten nature’s dainties; in their race - To rear their graces into second life; - To give society its highest taste; - Well-ordered home man’s beet delight to make; - And, by submissive wisdom, modest skill, - With every gentle care eluding art, - To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, - And sweeten all the toils of human life; - This be the female dignity and praise.” - -A proper attention to these necessary duties and embellishments, would -not only correct this rambling disposition, but happily leave neither -leisure nor temptation for its indulgence. - -I intended to have given you some account of my agreeable visit here; -but the chit-chat of the ladies I have mentioned, has occupied a large -portion of my time this morning, and an engagement to dine abroad claims -the rest. - -I hope soon to embrace you in our beloved retirement, and again to enjoy -the sweets of my native home. - - “Had I the choice of sublunary good, - What could I wish that I possess not there? - Health, leisure, means t’ improve it, friendship, peace.” - -My most dutiful affections await mamma; and my kind regards attend the -young ladies residing with her. How great a share of my ardent love is -at your command, need not be renewedly testified. - - MARIA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - NEWBURYPORT. - -The extracts which you transmitted to me in your last letter, my dear -Sophia, from your favorite author, Dr. Young, corresponded exactly with -the solemnity infused into my mind by the funeral of a neighbor, from -which I had just returned. - -I agree with you that the Night-Thoughts are good devotional exercises. -It is impossible to read them with that degree of attention which they -merit, without being affected by the important and awful subjects on -which they treat. But Young, after all, is always too abstruse, and in -many instances too gloomy for me. The most elaborate application is -necessary to the comprehension of his meaning and design; which when -discovered often tend rather to depress than to elevate the spirits. - -Thompson is much better adapted to my taste. Sentiment, elegance, -perspicuity and sublimity are all combined in his Seasons. What an -inimitable painter! How admirably he describes the infinitely variegated -beauties and operations of nature! To the feeling and susceptible heart -they are presented in the strongest light. Nor is the energy of his -language less perceivable, when he describes the Deity riding on the -wings of the wind, and directing the stormy tempest. - - “How chang’d the scene! In blazing height of noon, - The sun oppress’d, is plunged in thickest gloom, - Still horror reigns, a dismal twilight round, - Of struggling night and day malignant mix’d, - Far to the hot equator crowding fast, - Where highly rarefy’d, the yielding air, - Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll, - Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap’d; - Or whirl’d tempestuous by the gusty wind, - Or silent, borne along, heavy and slow, - With the big stores of streaming oceans charg’d: - Meantime, amid these upper sea’s condens’d - Around the cold aerial mountain’s brow, - And by conflicting winds together dash’d, - The thunder holds his black tremendous throne, - From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage; - Till in the furious elemental war - Dissolve the whole precipitated mass, - Unbroken floods and torrents pours.” - -Conscious of our own weakness and dependence, we can hardly fail to -adore and to fear that Divine Power, whose agency this imagery exhibits -to our minds. Nor are the devout affections of our hearts less excited, -when we behold the same glorious Being arrayed in love, and -accommodating the regular succession of summer and winter, seed time and -harvest to our convenience and comfort. When nature, obedient to his -command, revives the vegetable world, and diffuses alacrity and joy -throughout the animal, and even rational creation, we involuntarily -exclaim with the - - “HAIL, SOURCE OF BEING! UNIVERSAL SOUL - Of heaven and earth! ESSENTIAL PRESENCE, hail! - To THEE I bend the knee; to THEE my thoughts - Continual climb; who, with a master hand, - Hast the great whole into perfection touch’d. - By THEE various vegetative tribes, - Wrapt in a filmy net and clad with leaves, - Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew. - By THEE disposed into cogenial foils, - Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells - The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes. - At THY command, the vernal sun awakes - The torpid sap, detruded to the root - By wintry winds; which now in fluent dance, - And lively fermentation, mounting spreads - All this inumerous-colour’d scene of things.” - -Aided in our observations by this pathetic and pious writer, our hearts -beat responsive to the sentiments of gratitude, which he indirectly, yet -most forcibly inculcates in that devout address to the Supreme Parent: - - “——Were every faltering tongue of man, - Almighty Father! silent in thy praise, - Thy works themselves would raise a general voice, - Even in the depth of solitary woods, - By human foot untrod: proclaim the power, - And to the quire celestial Thee resound, - Th’ eternal cause, support, and End of all!” - -By this beautiful poem we are allured to the study of nature, and to the -contemplation of nature’s God. Our hearts glow with devotion and love to -the sovereign Lord and benefactor of the universe; and we are drawn, by -the innumerable displays of his goodness, to the practice of virtue and -religion. - -You may, possibly call me an enthusiast. Be it so. Yet I contend for the -honor, but especially for the privilege, of being a cheerful one. For I -think we dishonor our heavenly father by attaching any thing gloomy or -forbidding to his character. In this participation of divine blessings, -let us rather exercise a thankful, and contented disposition. - -I remain your’s most affectionately. - - CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - - _To Mrs._ WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR MADAM, - -By her desire in conjunction with my own inclination, I inform you that -Harriot Henly, is no more——Yesterday she gave her hand, and renounced -her name together; threw aside the sprightly girl we have been so long -accustomed to admire, and substituted in her place the dignified and -respectable head of a family, in Mrs. Farmington. - -Have I not lost my amiable friend and associate! Will not her change of -situation tend to lessen our intercourse, and alienate our affections? - -When I contemplate the social circle, so firmly cemented in the bands of -friendship, at the boarding school, where the most perfect harmony, ease -and satisfaction presided, I recoil at the idea of becoming less dear, -less interesting, and less necessary to each other. It is with the -utmost reluctance that I admit the idea of rivals to that affection and -benevolence which we have, so long, and so sincerely interchanged. - -The charm however is broken. Harriot is already married; and my friends -are extremely solicitous that I should follow her example. But in a -connexion which requires so many precautions, before it is formed, and -such uninterrupted circumspection and prudence afterwards; the great -uncertainty of the event inspires me with timidity and apprehension. - -Harriot put into my hands, and I read with pleasure, the book which you -recommended to her on the subject. But still we wished for your -instruction and advice. The sentiments of a person so dear and -interesting to us, are particularly calculated to engage our attention, -and influence our conduct. Relying, too, on your judgment and -experience, your forming pen may render us more worthy objects of -attachment. - -We, however, unite in assuring you of our gratitude for all past -favours; and in presenting our sincere regards to the young ladies. - -I am, with great respect, your affectionate and grateful - - LAURA GUILFORD. - - - _To Miss_ LAURA GUILFORD. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR LAURA, - -The obligations under which you lay me, by your generous confidence, and -affectionate expressions of regard, induce me again to assume the -Preceptress towards you, and to gratify your wishes, by imparting my -sentiments on your present situation and prospects. - -I am told by my daughter, who had the honor of bearing your letter, that -you are what I always expected you would be, an object of general -admiration. Yet, I trust, your good sense will enable you duly to -distinguish and treat the several candidates for your favor. - -It is, indeed, my young friend, a matter of the most serious -consequence, which lies upon your mind, and awakens your anxiety. Your -friends are studious of your welfare, and kindly concerned that the -important die on which the happiness of your life depends, should be -judiciously cast. You doubtless remember, that I discoursed upon this -subject in my concluding lessons to your class. - -Disparity of tempers, among other things which were then suggested, and -which you will doubtless recollect, was represented, as tending to -render life uncomfortable. But there are other disparities which may be -equally hostile to your peace. - -Disparity of years is very apt to occasion the indulgence of passions -destructive of conjugal felicity. The great difference between the -sprightly vivacity, and enterprise of youth, and the deliberate caution, -phlegmatic coldness, and sententious wisdom of age render them very -unpleasant companions to each other. Marriage between persons of these -opposite descriptions is commonly the result of pecuniary motives, with -one party, at least: the suspicion of this, in the other, must -necessarily produce discontent, uneasiness, and disaffection. - -Age is naturally jealous of respect, and apprehensive of being slighted. -The most trifling and unmeaning inattentions will therefore be construed -amiss. For an excessive desire of being objects of supreme regard is -almost invariably accompanied with a strong persuasion of being the -reverse. Hence accusations, reproaches and restraints, on the one side, -produce disgust, resentment and alienation on the other, till mutual and -unceasing wretchedness ensue. Indeed, where interest alone, without this -inequality of years, is the principal inducement, marriage is seldom -happy. Esteem and love are independent of wealth and its appendages. -They are not to be sold or bought. The conjugal relation is so near and -interesting, the mind as well as the person is so intimately concerned -in it, that something more substantial and engaging than gold is -requisite to make it a blessing. - -Marriage, being the commencement of a domestic life, beside the many -agreeable circumstances attending it, has its peculiar cares and -troubles which require the solace of a companion actuated by better -principles, and possessed of more amiable endowments than outward -splendor and magnificence can afford. In the hour of sickness and -distress, riches it is true, can bestow bodily comforts and cordials; -but can they be made an equivalent for the tender sympathy, the -endearing kindness, and the alleviating attention of a bosom friend, -kindly assiduous to ease our pains, animate our prospects, and beguile -the languid moments which elude all other consolations? The sorrows as -well as the joys of a family state, are often such as none but a bosom -friend can participate. The heart must be engaged before it can repose -with ease and confidence. To a lady of sensibility, the confinement of -the body, without the consent and union of according minds, must be a -state of inexpressible wretchedness. - -Another situation, not less to be deplored, is a connexion with the -immoral and profane. - -How shocking must it be, to hear that sacred NAME, which you revere and -love, constantly treated with levity and irreverence! And how painful -the necessity of being constrained, for the sake of peace, to witness in -silence, and without even the appearance of disapprobation, the most -shameful outrages upon religion and virtue! May you never taste the -bitterness of this evil. - -Intemperance is a vice, which one would imagine no lady would overlook -in a suitor. But, strange to tell! there are those even among our own -sex, who think and speak of inebriation in the other, at the jovial and -well furnished board, as a mark of conviviality and good fellowship. - -How degrading and how dreadful must this enormity appear to an -interested, affectionate and virtuous wife! What agonizing pangs of -mortification and anguish must she endure, when she meets him, in whose -society she delights; whose return she has anticipated with impatience, -and whose happiness and honor are the moving springs of her life, -intoxicated with wine; the powers of his mind suspended by the poisonous -cup, and every faculty absorbed in the deadly draught! What a perpetual -source of dread and apprehension must hence arise; and how often must -the blush of indignant virtue and wounded delicacy be called forth. - -The gamester is an equally dangerous companion. His family is robbed, -not only of his company and his talents, but of that property, to the -benefit of which they have an indisputable claim. His earnings are -squandered among worthless and profligate associates abroad; while the -fruitful partner of his life, and perhaps, too, a rising offspring, -languish at home for want of bread! - -How fatal is the tendency of such examples! How can that father -inculcate the duties of piety, virtue and decency, who exhibits the -reverse of each in his own conduct? And under what an unspeakable -disadvantage, must that mother labor, in the instruction and education -of her children, whose admonitions, counsels, and directions are -practically counteracted by him who ought to bear an equal share of the -burden! The government and superintendence of a family are objects of -such magnitude and importance, that the union and co-operation of its -heads are indispensably necessary. It is a little commonwealth; and if -internal feuds and dissentions arise, anarchy and confusion must ensue. - -Domestic happiness is the foundation of every other species. At times, -indeed, we may enjoy ourselves abroad, among our friends—but a good -heart will return home, as to the seat of felicity. - - “——Home is the resort - Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where - Supporting and supported, polish’d friends - And dear relations mingle into bliss.” - -Since so much, then, depends upon a judicious choice, how important is -it, that you examine well before you decide; and that you dispense with -no quality in the man to whom you shall give your hand, which is -essential to the virtue and happiness of your life. For this purpose, -consult your judgment rather than your fancy; and suffer not superficial -accomplishments, but solid merit to preponderate. - -I have now endeavored to point out the most apparent and threatening -dangers to which you may be exposed. But though these are avoided, many -unforeseen accidents will doubtless occur to cloud your sanguine hopes. -These, when there are no vices to produce them, may arise from follies, -and from the indulgence of erroneous expectations. Little -misunderstandings sometimes occasion disagreements which terminate in -coldness and disaffection, and plant a root of bitterness which can -hardly be eradicated. - -Let prudence, therefore, be your pole-star, when you enter the married -state. Watch with the greatest circumspection over yourself; and always -exercise the tenderest affection, the most unwearied patience, and the -most cheerful acquiescence in the treatment of your companion. Guard -especially against being affected by those little inattentions and -foibles, which too often give pain and umbrage without design; and -produce those remonstrances, criminations, and retorts, which are the -great inlets of strife, and bane of love. - -You must bear with calmness, every thing that the sincerest desire of -peace can dictate; and studiously avoid every expression, and even look, -which may irritate and offend. Your own happiness, you will consider so -intimately connected with that of your husband, as to be inseparable; -and consequently, that all your hopes of comfort in this life, and -perhaps too, in the next, depend upon your conducting with propriety and -wisdom towards him. - -I take the liberty, through you, to convey my congratulations to Mrs. -Farmington. May her change of condition be happy, to the full extent of -our most sanguine expectations, and benevolent wishes. I fully intended -writing her on the subject, but having unwarily bestowed so much time -upon you, that for the present, I must forego the pleasure. Some things -in this letter, which you will doubtless communicate, are applicable to -her case. These she will receive as friendly hints from me; and I am -confident that her known discretion will continue to shed a benign and -engaging influence upon her whole deportment and render her uniformly -respected and beloved. - -The bearer is waiting, and I can only add, that I remain your sincere -and affectionate friend. - - MARY WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR CLEORA, - -The pleasing hope with which you inspired me, when we parted last, of -receiving a visit from you in town, has been constantly cherished. I -have anticipated your arrival with the utmost impatience; but have -endeavored, notwithstanding, to beguile the slow-paced hours by a useful -and pleasing occupation; the revision of my geographical studies. - -My papa has kindly procured me Doctor Morse’s last and much improved -edition of Universal Geography, which with the assistance of a pair of -globes he possessed, has afforded me the most delightful entertainment. -When at school, I thought this the most agreeable study allotted me; -never deeming it a task, but an amusement. - -It affords me, as it must every true American, the sincerest pleasure to -be furnished with the means of acquiring this favorite science, by my -own countryman; and the spirit of Columbian independence exults in my -bosom, at the idea of being able to gain an accurate acquaintance with -my own and other countries, without recourse to the labors of -foreigners. - -I think the present generation are under special obligations to the -active industry of Dr. Morse, in providing us with that necessary and -rich fund of information, which his Geography and Gazeteer contain. From -these sources we may derive a sufficient knowledge of the world we -inhabit, without departing from our domestic sphere. - -Come then, my dear Cleora, and without fatigue or expense, we will make -the tour of the globe together. After investigating the local situation -of different and distant climes, we will turn to the historic page, and -examine the manners, government, character and improvements of their -inhabitants. We will traverse the frozen wastes of the frigid zones, and -the burning sands of the equatorial region; then return and bless the -temperate and happy medium in which we are placed; and casting an eye -around, exult in our peculiar advantages of soil and situation, peace -and good government, virtue and religion. - -The fine mornings of this season afford many delightful hours, before -the heat of the day relaxes the mind and enervates the body. Come, then, -enjoy and improve these, in concert with your faithful and affectionate -friend, - - JULIA GREENFIELD. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -Last Thursday, after having concluded the usual occupations and -sedentary amusements of the day, I walked out, towards evening, to enjoy -the benefit of a cool and fragrant air, and the serenity and beauty of -those rural scenes which have a powerful tendency to soothe and -tranquillize the mind. When I had rambled in the fields to a -considerable distance, I crossed into the road, to return home free from -the inconvenience of the dew, which had begun to fall. - -I had not proceeded far, when I observed a female, who had the -appearance of youth and misfortune, sitting by the wall in a pensive -attitude, with an infant in her lap. When I approached her, she arose, -and in the most humble and pathetic accents, besought me to direct her -to some shelter, where she might repose her weary limbs for the night. -The aspect and language of distress awakened my compassion. To know she -really needed charity, was a sufficient inducement with me to bestow it, -without scrupulously inquiring whether she deserved it or not. I -therefore told her to follow me, and I would conduct her to a lodging. - -As we walked on, I questioned her respecting the place of her nativity, -her parentage, and the reason of her being reduced to the situation in -which I had found her. She informed me that she was born in Ireland: -that her parents brought her into this country before her remembrance; -that while she was very young, they both died, and left her to the -protection and mercy of strangers; that she was bandied one from -another, in the village where Providence had cast her lot, till she was -able to earn her own living: “and since that time,” said she, “I believe -the character of an honest and industrious girl will not be refused me.” -How then, said I, came you by this incumbrance? pointing to the child. -“In that,” replied she, “I am very guilty. Brought up in ignorance of -those principles of decency, virtue, and religion, which have kept you -innocent, Madam, I was ruined by a deceitful man, who, under the mask of -love, and with the most solemn promises of marriage, betrayed my -confidence, and left me to reap the bitter fruits of my credulity. The -woman where I lived, when she discovered my situation, ordered me to -leave her house immediately. It was no matter, said she, how much I -suffered, or what became of me. On my own head, she told me, my iniquity -should fall; she would not lighten the burden, if it were in her power. - -“Some of the neighbors informed me, that she had reason to be severe -upon my fault, being once in the same condemnation herself. - -“Having no friend who could assist me, I applied to the selectmen of the -town, who provided for me till I was able to work, and then told me I -must shift for myself; offering, however, to keep the child, which I -refused, being determined that it should never suffer for want of a -mother’s care, while I had life. - -“I am now wandering in pursuit of employment, that the labor of my hands -may support myself and little one. This has been often denied me, either -for fear my child should be troublesome, or because my character was -suspected. I have sometimes suffered so much from fatigue and want, that -I have despaired of relief, and heartily wished both myself and babe in -the grave.” - -On examination, I found her knowledge confined entirely to domestic -drudgery; that she had never been taught either to read or write. She -appears, notwithstanding, to have good natural sense; and a quickness of -apprehension, and readiness of expression, seldom equalled in her sphere -of life. - -I conducted her into the kitchen, and desired she might have supper and -a bed provided for her. My mamma, whose benevolent heart and liberal -hand are always ready to relieve the necessitous, was pleased to approve -my conduct; and having kept her through the next day, and observed her -disposition and behaviour, hired her as a servant; and we have reason to -believe, from her apparent fidelity and grateful exertions, that our -kindness will be well repaid. I have even extended my charity further, -and undertaken to teach her to read. She is very tractable; and I expect -to be amply rewarded for my labor, by her improvements. - -Indeed, Matilda, it is melancholy to see our fellow-creatures reared up, -like the brute creation; neither instructed how to live above their -animal appetites, nor how to die as Christians, when they have finished -their toilsome career! - -This girl is only seventeen. Her age, therefore, as well as her docility -and submissiveness, encourage the pleasing hope of restoring her to the -paths of rectitude and peace. I shall endeavor, as opportunity offers, -to instil into her susceptible mind, the principles of virtue and -religion; and, perhaps, I may lead her to the love and practice of both, -and render her a useful member of society. Her fate impresses more -forcibly than ever, on my mind, the importance of a good education, and -the obligations it confers. Had you or I been subjected to the same -ignorance, and the same temptations, who can say that we should have -conducted better? How many fall for want of the directing hand of that -parental love and friendship, with which we are blessed! Contrasting our -situation with hers, how much have we to account for, and how -inexcusable shall we be, if we violate our duty, and forfeit our -dignity, as reasonable creatures. - -That extreme bitterness and acrimony, which is sometimes indulged -against persons who are unhappily seduced from the way of virtue, may -operate as a discouragement to all designs and endeavors to regain it; -whereas, the soothing voice of forgiveness, and the consequent prospect -of being restored to reputation and usefulness, might rouse the -attention, and call forth the exertions of some, at least, who through -despair of retrieving their characters, abandon themselves to vice, and -adopt a course, alike disgraceful to their sex, and to human nature. - -But though I advocate the principles of philanthropy and Christian -charity, as extending to some very special cases, I am far from -supposing this fault generally capable of the least extenuation. -Whatever allowance may be made for those, whose ignorance occasions -their ruin, no excuse can be offered for others, whose education, and -opportunities for knowing the world and themselves, have taught them a -better lesson. - -I need not, however, be at the pains to enforce this truth upon you: -and, as my head is so full of the subject, that I have no disposition to -write upon any thing else, I will put an end to this incoherent scroll, -by annexing the name of your sincere and faithful friend, - - MARIA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR CAROLINE, - -Happening to be in my chamber, this morning, the maid came running up -stairs in such violent haste, as to put herself fairly out of breath. -Will you be so kind, Miss Sophia, said she, as to lend me a quarter of a -dollar? I put my hand into my pocket, and found I had no small change. I -have nothing less than a dollar, Susan, said I; but if it is a matter of -consequence to you, I will go to my mamma, and procure it for you. She -was loath to give me that trouble; but, if I would, it would really -oblige her very much indeed. Her solicitude excited my curiosity. Will -you inform me what you want it for? said I. O yes; she believed it was -no harm—But there was a woman in the wood-house who told fortunes; and -she wished to know hers, but could not without the money. A woman who -tells fortunes! said I. What fortunes? the past or the future? The -future, to be sure, Ma’am, replied she. Ay, how does she know them? said -I. Has she been let into the secret designs of Providence? or can she -divine the mysteries of fate? She tells fortunes by cards, Ma’am, said -she; and I really believe she tells true. Can you imagine, said I, that -a knowledge of your destiny in life, is to be gained from any possible -arrangement of a pack of cards? Why not Ma’am? Many people have been -told exactly what was to happen. You may depend on it, Susan, said I, -you are deceived. The Almighty who disposes all events according to his -sovereign pleasure, does not unveil futurity to mortals, especially to -such mortals, who by an idle, vicious course of life, counteract his -laws, and disregard his authority. I would willingly give you the money, -twice told, if you needed it; but I cannot consent to your being imposed -on by this worthless vagrant, who has no other design than to pick your -pocket. - -The girl departed at these words; and though I felt an emotion of regret -at refusing to gratify her, yet my reason and conscience forbad my being -accessary to the fraud. - -This curiosity to explore the hidden counsels of the Most High, prevails -not only among servants, but even many from whom better things might be -expected, are under its infatuating influence. - -The Supreme Being has, for wise and benevolent reasons, concealed from -us the future incidents of our lives. A humble reliance on his power and -goodness, accompanied with a cheerful submission to the dispensations of -his providence, is what the Lord our God requireth of us. - -I have heard my mamma relate an anecdote of a particular friend of hers, -who was imposed on very seriously in this way. - -A gentleman, whom I shall call Sylvander, was very deeply in love with -her; but his person, and, much more, his disposition and manners, were -extremely disgusting to her. Averse to the very idea of a connexion with -him, she accordingly refused his addresses. Yet he had art sufficient to -interest her friends in his behalf; who, pitying his situation, -endeavored to soften the heart of the obdurate fair. But in vain they -strove to conciliate her affections. - -In defiance of all opposition, however, he intruded his visits, till she -reluctantly admitted them; and being somewhat coquetish, she at times -received him more benignly; which flattered his hopes of ultimately -accomplishing his wishes. Finding his ardent suit of but little avail, -and perceiving that he made but small progress towards gaining her -favor, he had recourse to art. Surprising her one day in close -confabulation with a fortune-teller, the idea immediately struck him, -that he might effect, through this mean, what all his assiduity and -solicitations could never insure. He communicated his plan to a female -friend, who was equally the confident of both parties. Directed by him, -she conversed with Sylvia on the subject; professed her belief in the -skill of these jugglers; and appeared desirous of taking this measure to -learn her fate. Sylvia joined in her opinion and wishes; and away they -tripped together on the important errand. Meanwhile, Sylvander had been -to the fellow who was to reveal their destinies? and, bribing him to -favor the design, left him instructed what answers to make to their -interrogations. - -They arrived and proposed their business. The mediums of information, a -pack of cards, were brought forth, and mysteriously arranged. Sylvia’s -curiosity was on tip-toe. She listened with profound attention to his -oracular wisdom; and believed him really inspired when he told her that -her former lover, for-whom she had a great regard, was gone to a foreign -country. This she knew to be true and therefore gave him a full -credence, when he added, that he would never live to return; and when he -proceeded still further to observe that another gentleman of great merit -now courted her; that she was not fond of his addresses, but would soon -see his worth and her own error, and give him her hand, and be happy. - -In short, he so artfully blended the past and present, which she knew, -with the future which Sylvander wished, and had therefore dictated, that -she was firmly persuaded that he dealt with some invisible power, and -that fate had indeed predestined her to the arms of Sylvander. Convinced -of this, she attended to his overtures more placidly, contemplated his -person and endowments with less aversion, and endeavored to reconcile -herself to the unavoidable event. - -This she effected; and not long after, he obtained her in marriage, and -triumphed in the success of his duplicity. - -In process of time her other lover returned. Disappointment and despair -presided in his breast. He saw Sylvia, upbraided her with her -inconstancy, and declared himself utterly ruined. Pity and returning -love operated in her mind, and rendered her completely wretched. She -most severely condemned her own folly, in listening to the dictates of a -misguided curiosity; and acknowledged herself justly punished, for -presuming to pry in the secret designs of Heaven. - -These strolling pretenders to foreknowledge are peculiarly dangerous to -the weak-minded and credulous part of the community; and how it happens -that they are encouraged, is to me inconceivable. Did they actually give -the information they promise, how much reason should we have to avoid -them! How many sources of grief would be opened, by the anticipation of -future evils, of which now we have no apprehension! and how often should -we be deprived of the consolatory hope of a speedy deliverance from -present sufferings. - -With every sentiment of respect and affection, I am most sincerely -yours. - - SOPHIA MANCHESTER. - - - _To Miss_ ANNA WILLIAMS. - - BOSTON. - - DEAR ANNA, - -A most melancholy and distressing event has spread a gloom over the face -of the metropolis. Every heart heaves the sympathetic sigh, and every -eye drops the tear of regret. The very sudden death of Doctor Clarke, -who was seized with an apoplectic fit, in the midst of his sermon, -yesterday afternoon, and expired this morning, is a subject of universal -lamentation. - -Not only we, who had the happiness to sit under his ministry, and to -enjoy his particular friendship and attention, but the whole town; and, -indeed, the public at large have sustained a great loss in his -departure. Amiable in his disposition, engaging in his manners, and -benevolent in his whole deportment, he conciliated the affections of -every class. His talents as a scholar, philosopher, and divine, -commanded the respect of the most judicious and learned; while the -elegance, perspicuity and delicacy of his style, joined with the -undissembled seriousness of his manner, rendered him uniformly -acceptable to the devout. In every condition and relation of life, he -was exemplary as a Christian; and as a preacher, an air of persuasion -invariably accompanied him, which arrested the attention of the most -heedless auditors. - - ——“By him, in strains as sweet - As angels use, the gospel whisper’d peace. - Grave, simple and sincere: in language plain: - And plain in manner. Decent, solemn, chaste - And natural in gesture. Much impress’d - Himself as conscious of his awful charge, - And anxious mainly that the flock he fed - Might feel it too. Affectionate in look, - And tender in address, as well becomes - A messenger of grace to guilty men.” - -He was particularly attractive to young people. While he charmed their -ear, he convinced their understanding and excited them to the love and -practice of virtue. - -A striking example of this occurred some years ago, which I will take -the liberty to relate. He preached in a neighboring church on these -words, “She that liveth in pleasure is dead while she liveth.”[7] In -this discourse he painted those allurements of pleasure which surround -the young and gay; more especially of our sex, in the most just and -lively colours. He represented, in pathetic, engaging and refined -language, the snares to which they are exposed, and the most probable -means of escaping them. He exhibited with all their attractions, the -native charms of virtue, and portrayed vice in its true deformity. He -described in the most animating terms, the respectability, usefulness, -and happiness of those who undeviatingly adhere to the path of rectitude -and innocence; and with the most energetic and affectionate tenderness, -warned the youth to avoid the devious walks of vice and dissipation. - -Footnote 7: - - 1 Timothy, v. 6. - -A number of young ladies, who had been his hearers, happening to be -together in the evening, united in the wish to express their gratitude -to him; but not having a personal acquaintance with him, could devise no -better method than writing. - -The following anonymous letter was accordingly penned by one of the -company, and privately conveyed to the Doctor, at the request of all. - - * * * * * - - BOSTON. - - “REVEREND SIR, - -“The well known candour of your disposition, and your apparent zeal for -the promotion of religion and virtue, embolden us to flatter ourselves -that you will pardon this method of conveying to you our sincere and -united thanks for your very seasonable, judicious, and useful discourse, -delivered last Sunday morning, at our meeting. - -“It is much to be lamented, that the depravity of the age is such, as to -render sermons of this nature just and necessary; and it is almost -matter of equal regret, that we have so seldom opportunities of being -benefitted by them. - -“That we oftener hear than receive instruction, is a truth which can -neither be denied or evaded; and can only be accounted for, by that -passionate fondness for pleasure, which prevails to such a degree of -enthusiasm, as to precipitate its votaries into whatever presents itself -under this deluding aspect, without considering whether it be durable or -fleeting. - -“It is certainly a most humiliating reflection, that our sex (which is -the female) should ever take more pains to gain the qualifications of -agreeable triflers than of rational friends; or be more anxious to -become amusing, than useful companions. But sir, does not such conduct -in ladies too often receive the most flattering encouragement from the -gentlemen? How seldom is intrinsic merit distinguished; and the serious, -prudent female preferred even by those who style themselves men of sense -and penetration, to the airy, flaunting coquette! - -“The constant attention which is paid to those who make the gayest -appearance, and the applause which is lavished upon her who has the -largest portion of external graces and fashionable embellishments, -induce many who entertain the good natured desire of pleasing to bestow -more of their time and care on the cultivation of those superficial -accomplishments, which they find necessary to render them acceptable to -most circles in which they fall, than upon the acquisition of those -substantial virtues which they daily see neglected and ridiculed; though -at the same time, perhaps they are convinced of the superior -satisfaction which the latter would afford. - -“But it is needless for one sex to criminate the other. We allow, that, -generally speaking, they are equally to blame. In this instance, -however, as the male assume the prerogative of superior judgment and -intellectual abilities, they ought to prove the justice of their claim -by setting nobler examples, and by endeavoring to reform whatever tends -to vitiate the taste and corrupt the morals of society. - -“Yet, after all, the evil cannot be effectually remedied, but by the -concurrent exertions of both; and we are humbly of opinion, that if this -reformation were more frequently inculcated from the pulpit, in the -delicate, engaging and pious manner of the discourse which now excites -our gratitude to you, and our resolutions to conduct accordingly, it -would be efficacious in bringing about so desirable an event. - -“We entreat your pardon, Reverend Sir, for the freedom, prolixity, and -errors of this epistle. - -“Though personally unknown to you, we doubt not you will readily grant -it, when we assure you, that we are actuated by a sincere regard to the -interests of religion and morality, and by a grateful sense of your -exertions in the glorious cause. - -“The united sentiments of a number of young ladies, who heard and -admired your sermon, last Sunday morning, are expressed above. - -Rev. JOHN CLARKE.” - -It is much to be regretted that Doctor Clarke did not publish more of -his literary labours. - -The universal approbation bestowed upon those, which he suffered to see -the light, is an unequivocal evidence of his merit, as an author. His -“Letters to a Student in the University of Cambridge,” are written in a -most pleasing style, and contain instruction and advice of which no -person in pursuit of a public education ought to be ignorant. His -“Answer to the question, Why are you a Christian?” which has already had -three editions in Boston, and three in England, is one of the best -compendiums of the external and internal evidences of our holy religion, -extant. It is plain and intelligible to the lowest capacity and may -enable every one, without much study, to give a reason for the hope that -is in him. - -From these specimens we may form an opinion of what the world has lost -by his early exit. - -I shall make no other apology for the length of this letter, than the -interest which I feel in the subject; and this, I am persuaded, you will -deem sufficient. - -My affectionate regards wait on your mamma and sister, while I subscribe -myself yours most sincerely, - - JULIA GREENFIELD. - - - _To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE. - - BEVERLY. - - DEAR CLEORA, - -The shortness of time is a very common subject of complaint; but I think -the misuse of it, a much more just one. Its value is certainly -underrated by those who indulge themselves in morning sloth. - -Sweet, indeed, is the breath of morn; and after the body has been -refreshed by the restoring power of sleep, it is peculiarly prepared to -procure and participate the pleasures of the mind. The jarring passions -are then composed, and the calm operations of reason succeed of course; -while - - “———————————Gentle gales, - Fanning their odoriferous wings, dispense - Native perfumes, and whisper when they stole - These balmy spoils.” - -The morning is undoubtedly a season, of all others, most favorable to -useful exertions. Those, therefore, who lose three or four hours of it, -in slumbering inaction, make a voluntary sacrifice of the best part of -their existence. I rose to-day, not with the sun, but with the dawn; and -after taking a few turns in the garden, retired to the summer-house. -This you know is a favorite hour with me. - - “To me be nature’s volume broad display’d; - And to peruse its all-instructing page, - Or, haply catching inspiration thence, - Some easy passage raptur’d to translate, - My sole delight; as thro’ the falling glooms, - Pensive I stray, or with the rising dawn - On fancy’s eagle wing excursive soar.” - -Having a memorandum book and pencil in my pocket, I descend from the -lofty heights to which the immortal bard, my beloved Thompson, had -insensibly raised my imagination, to the humble strains of simple rhyme, -in order to communicate my sensations to you. These I enclose, without -attempting to tell you, either in prose or verse, how affectionately I -am yours. - - MATILDA FIELDING. - - * * * * * - - The morning dawns, the russet grey - Slowly avoids the opening day: - Receding from the gazing eye, - The misty shades of twilight fly. - The ruddy streaks of light appear, - To guide our western hemisphere; - While tuneful choirs responsive join - To praise the gracious Pow’r Divine, - Whose mighty hand with sov’reign sway, - Restores, alternate, night and day. - - Hail, opening morn! thy sober rays - Demand the contemplative gaze: - Unnumber’d beauties please the sight, - And give the mental eye delight. - - O dawn! thy sombre shades I love! - With thee in solitude I’ll rove: - While health expansive gives the mind - To taste thy pleasures unconfin’d. - - Here free from fashion’s artful forms, - Benevolence the bosom warms: - Persuasive virtue charms the soul, - And reason’s laws alone control. - - Let others, lost in sloth forego - The joys thy early hours bestow: - Thy zephyrs far more sweets dispense, - Than Somnus yield to drowsy sense! - - Mild as the beams of radiance shine, - May piety my powers refine: - Pure as the mimic pearls, that spread - Their liquid beauties o’er the mead: - And like yon rising orb of day, - May wisdom guide my dubious way. - - - _To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING. - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - DEAR MATILDA, - -I was last week at Boston; and having occasion for a new hat, stepped -into a milliner’s shop to inquire the mode. The milliner replied that it -was not yet in her power to answer my question. “The spring ships,” said -she, “are later than common; but their arrival is hourly expected, when -we shall be furnished with memorandum books which will ascertain and -determine the fashion for the season.” What she meant by memorandum -books, I could not conceive. I had always supposed them blanks, designed -for noting whatever occurred without inconvenience. Unwilling, however, -to be thought a simple country girl, totally unacquainted with the -world, I sought no explanation from her; but repaired to a particular -friend for instruction; from whom I learned that the chief value of -these same memorandum books consists in their containing imported cuts -of ladies’ headdresses, hats and other habiliments, which are always -sure to be admired and imitated, as the perfection of taste and -propriety. - -This discovery mortified me exceedingly. It justified, beyond any thing -which I had ever suspected to exist as a fact, what I once heard a -European assert, “that Americans had neither character nor opinion of -their own.” - -With due deference to those better judges, who despise the simplicity of -our ancestors, and labor to introduce the corrupt manners and customs of -the old world into our country, I cannot but think it extremely -ridiculous for an independent nation, which discards all foreign -influence, glories in its freedom, and boasts of its genius and taste, -servilely to ape exotic fashions, even in articles of dress and fanciful -ornaments. - -Have not the daughters of Columbia sufficient powers of invention to -decorate themselves? Must we depend upon the winds and waves for the -form, as well as the materials of our garb? Why may we not follow our -own inclination; and not be deemed finical or prudish in our appearance, -merely because our habit is not exactly correspondent with the pretty -pictures in the memorandum books, last imported. - -It is sincerely to be regretted that this subject is viewed in so -important a light. It occupies too much of the time, and engrosses too -much of the conversation of our sex. For one, I have serious thoughts of -declaring independence. - - ANNA WILLIAMS. - - - _To Miss_ CAROLINE LITTLETON. - - (_On the Death of her Mother._) - - HARMONY-GROVE. - - MY DEAR CAROLINE, - -To tell you that I am sorry for your loss, or that I sympathize in your -affliction, would be but the language you daily hear; and often perhaps, -from the unfeeling and indifferent. But you will do me the justice to -believe, that I take a particular interest in your concerns, and really -share your grief. A holy Providence has wounded you by a stroke, which -is extremely painful and severe. Your best friend is shrouded in the -grave. In the maternal breast our fondest affections, and most -unsuspecting confidence have hitherto concentrated; and who can provide -you with an equivalent substitute? To the Almighty Father and Friend of -creation, it becomes you to repair for comfort and support. - -The dying advice and counsel of your dear mamma, which you inform me, -were pathetic, instructive and consolatory, will be a guide to your -feet. Often realize the solemn scene, and remember, that, “though dead, -she yet speaketh.” - -You have great cause of thankfulness, that she was spared to direct you -so far through the intricate and dangerous path of youth; to complete -your education; to teach you, by her example, how to acquit yourself -with usefulness and honor; and above all, to furnish you with that -important knowledge, to which every thing else should be made -subservient—how to die. - -An era of your life has now commenced, which is no less important than -affecting. That assisting hand which formerly led you is now cold and -lifeless! Those lips, from which you have been accustomed to receive -information and advice, are sealed in perpetual silence! And that heart, -which always glowed with the warmest solicitude for your happiness has -ceased to palpitate. - -You must now think and act for yourself. As the eldest daughter, you -will be placed at the head of your father’s family. You must, therefore, -adopt a plan of conduct, conducive to its harmony, regularity and -interest. - -Filial duty to your surviving parent, more tenderly inculcated by your -participation of his heavy bereavement, will lead you to consult his -inclination, and sedulously contribute all in your power to lighten the -burden of domestic arrangements devolved upon him. While he laments the -death of a prudent, affectionate, and beloved wife, give him reason to -rejoice that he is blessed with a daughter, capable of soothing the -pains, alleviating the cares, and heightening the enjoyments of his -life. - -Your brothers and sisters will look up to you as the guide of their -tender years. While their weeping eyes and pathetic accents are directed -towards you, let kindness, discretion, and patience, characterize your -deportment, and engage their confidence and love. - -Having mentioned your duty to others, I cannot dismiss the subject -without dropping a few hints for your direction, in regard to your -personal behaviour. - -A very important charge is committed to you, as well in the duties which -you owe to yourself, as in the superintendence of your father’s family. - -The sovereign disposer of all things has, at an early age, made you, in -a measure, your own guardian. Your father’s business calls him much -abroad. With you, therefore, he is obliged to entrust, not only his -domestic concerns; but, what is still more dear to his heart, the care -of your own person and mind; of your own reputation and happiness. - -Circumstanced as you are, company has the most powerful charms. Yours is -now the prerogative of receiving and returning visits in your own name. -At home, you are sole mistress of ceremonies. This is extremely alluring -to the sprightly fancy of youth. But time, you will remember, is too -important a blessing to be sacrificed to a promiscuous crowd of -unimproving companions. Besides, the character of a young lady will -necessarily be sullied by the imputation of being constantly engaged in -parties of pleasure, and exhilarating amusement. Flattery often avails -itself of the unguarded moments of gaiety; and insinuating its insidious -charms into the heedless and susceptible mind, inflates it with pride -and vanity, and produces an affectation and air of self-importance, -which are peculiarly disgusting, because easily distinguished from that -true dignity of manners, which results from conscious rectitude. Genuine -merit is always modest and unassuming; diffident of itself and -respectful to others. - -Your father has a right to your unlimited confidence. You will, -therefore, make him your chief friend and counsellor. Though he may not -possess all the winning softness of a mother, he doubtless has as ardent -an affection for you, and as sincere a desire to promote your welfare. -Hence you may safely repose your dearest concerns in his paternal -breast, and receive, with the utmost deference, his kind instruction and -advice. Let his judgment have an entire ascendency over your mind and -actions, especially in your intercourse and society with the other sex. -Consider him as better acquainted with their merit, circumstances, and -views, than you can be; and should you contemplate a connexion for life, -let his opinion determine your choice. - -Watch over your dear little sisters with all the tenderness of fraternal -affection; be their protector and friend; instil into their minds the -principles of virtue and religion; arm them against the snares and -temptations by which they will be surrounded; and lead them by your own -conduct, in the way of truth and peace. - -When you have leisure and inclination to write, the effusions of your -pen will always be acceptable to your sincere and faithful friend - - MARY WILLIAMS - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES - - - 1. Added Table of CONTENTS. - 2. Silently corrected typographical errors. - 3. Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - 4. Enclosed italics font in _underscores_. - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Boarding School, by Hannah Webster Foster - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BOARDING SCHOOL *** - -***** This file should be named 55558-0.txt or 55558-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/5/5/55558/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was -produced from images made available by the HathiTrust -Digital Library.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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. 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