This leads me to say that female education should be of a Practical description. The girl is destined to be a house-keeper, and yet she is, perhaps, doing almost nothing to prepare herself for that station. She thinks a knowledge of housewifery comes by instinct; and so it is that she cares more for her French and her piano than for those studies which would fit her for domestic duty. But in vain do this sex receive high degrees of culture, if they are still unable to apply their knowledge to any useful purpose. Why train the mind so sedulously, if it prove in the end but a leaden instrument, too flexible for service? Every woman should be trained for a variety of situations. Let her be educated for self-subsistence. What a miserable creature is she, if incompetent to obtain her own livelihood. That she is now placed in independent circumstances, affords no assurance that she will be always thus situated. Can any one forget the fearful reverses of fortune, especially in this land of pecuniary adventure and adversity? A lady, who had once rode in her own carriage, and lived in Eastern splendor, was seen, not long since, seated in Broadway, New York, selling nuts to the passengers. Talk we of independence! Who are free from bondage to others, and slavery to time and circumstance, but those who cannot earn their own subsistence?

Among the causes for gratitude, that woman now has, not the least is the circumstance that new avenues for female industry are constantly opening in this age. To some one at least of these, should every young lady direct her attention. No one should be entirely unskilled as a teacher, a housewife, and above all, in the use of the needle.

But let it not be imagined that I advocate the education of females for any one station or class of circumstances. Let her who is prepared to support herself by toil, either mental or manual, be also qualified, should Providence elevate her in life, to grace the highest social and intellectual circles. If there have been any single error in the training of this sex, more prominent than all others, it has been this, that they were prepared for one station, or for one event only, and that every influence was deemed quite unimportant, save those which tended to qualify them for that station or relation alone.

But it was not surely for marriage alone that God fashioned this associate and moral equal of man. Neither was it for high life, or low life, or middling stations, for east, west, north, or south, that she was made in the sacred image of her Creator. For all these circumstances, if Providence so appoint, should she be prepared. In one word, her whole nature, physical, intellectual and spiritual, should be fully developed; then is she truly educated.

Especially should the school-room give personal Virtue. It should train the conscience, the heart and its affections aright, and guide to consistency of character. "Want of perseverance," says Madam Necker, "is the great fault of woman, in every thing, morals, attention to health, friendship, &c." Her intellect is cultivated too exclusively, in our times. It is to be feared that her education now gives her little moral energy. This is a grievous error. Instead of being more frail in body, and less firm in mind, or thorough in morals and piety, than in past ages, she should be endowed with new force of character. Amid the increased dangers of society, what is to protect her, and lift her from feebleness and degradation, if not personal character? Man is to be educated for a vigorous encounter with the world; in him the stronger qualities, tempered by sensibility and affection, should predominate. Woman should be prepared to co-operate with him in the station he may fill, not openly and directly, but by a wise, gentle, and steady, domestic influence. In her, love should be the ruling star; but that love will avail him comparatively little, unless joined to a well trained intellect, a cultivated mind, and sound judgment. Amid the darkness, and tempestuousness, and growing perils of these latter ages, she should be a Pharos-tower, giving light and life to tempted man. If her moral culture do not correspond to her literary acquirements, they will prove but dangerous weapons in the hand of the lawless. Catharine de Medici was renowned, like her family, for talent and learning. She possessed unbounded influence over her son, the prince. But the horrid massacre of St. Bartholomew, the work of her spirit, is sufficient to render her name as infamous as it is distinguished. Let the intellect of this sex continue to be highly cultivated. But let

"such respect To woman's noiseless duties sweetly blend And temper those high gifts, that every heart That fears their splendor, loves their goodness too."

Mrs. Jameson inquires, and very properly, whether "where woman is idle and useless by privilege of her sex, a divinity, and an idol, a victim, or a toy, her position is not quite as lamentable, as false, as injurious to herself, and to all social progress, as where she is the drudge, slave and possession of man?"

Another scene for the education of woman lies in circles for Conversation. This is a pre-eminent means, not only of pleasure, but of improvement. It is a quickener of the intellect, a purifier of the affections, and an instrument of heightening our spiritual aspirations. I doubt whether woman especially is not more indebted to this, than to all her other facilities, for mental and moral advancement.

But how shall it be made conducive to the highest possible good? It must be studied, as an art. A girl may as easily be taught to converse well, as to recite lessons in philosophy. Persons differ, in this talent, it is true, as regards fluency; but this is by no means essential to useful conversation. Good sense, a respectable education, and a pure heart, are the great requisitions. She who has these, cannot fail, with suitable efforts, of becoming agreeable and edifying in her discourse.

To give the utmost effect to your privileges in this respect, learn first the talent of listening to others. Never pass even a few moments with one skilled in this accomplishment, without earnest attention. You will thus not only gather knowledge, but observe how this great art may be practised. You will perceive that no affectation and no insincerity are needed to enable you to improve in this precious power. Simplicity, naturalness, a truthful air and manner are, indeed, more frequently the result of labor than their opposites. It is hard, in this world of artifice, to be perfectly artless.

To educate yourself in this talent, resolve, in the outset, to speak always from your own mind and your own heart. Nothing is more fatal to improvement than being the echo of other voices. Let your remarks be like the gentle stream from the hill-side, which spreads freshness and verdure on its banks. Better say a simple thing of your own than a wise one purloined from your neighbor. Regard this great principle, and you will grow in the gift of conversation, and you will also keep your soul unpolluted by guilt.

Adhere sacredly to the truth. Avoid exaggeration, the sin of the young and the ardent. Rather understate than exceed the facts of a case. This rule will save you from the two great vices of social intercourse, flattery, and detraction. It is right to tell another precisely what we think of his merits, if done discreetly. But to give him a better impression of our estimate of his character than the truth will warrant, is, although very common, a plain violation of the laws of God. Adhere to the truth, and you will always exhibit charity in your discourse. This central luminary will shine on your words with a noon-tide brightness. It will dispel the mists of scandal, and beautify, and write the law of kindness on, your lips.

Speak much of principles, and little of persons. You have enjoyed a good education, and why should you prefer the discussion of such beggarly topics as dress, or the private concerns of your neighbor, to those noble thoughts, which learning, morals, and religion, would always supply to your mind? Determine to carry with you childhood's innocence, and angel love, and you will find the field of topics spread out before you an illimitable harvest of good fruits.

Make your Friendships a means of intellectual and moral improvement. God has graciously given us this boon, as a burnisher of our existence:

"Nature, in zeal for human amity, Denies or damps an undivided joy. * * * Joy is an exchange; Joy flies monopolists; Delight intense is taken by rebound."

The friendships of woman, from her being gifted with strong affections, exert a peculiar influence on her character and destiny. Therefore is it, that a young lady should choose her intimate associates with care. Let it not be accident, still less unhallowed gratifications, prejudice, pride, passion, folly, which form the basis of this holy structure. Where our friends can be selected, they should be those of attainments superior to our own, of pure principles, and virtuous habits.

The pursuits of the school-room afford opportunity for forming the closest friendships. The address of Helena to Hermia, is applicable to very many females who associate early in seminaries of learning:

"We, Hermia, Have with our needles created both one flower; Both on one sampler, sitting on one cushion; Both warbling of one song, both in one key; As if our hands, our sides, voices, and minds, Had been incorporate."

Let the youthful female beware, in school and everywhere, of hasty preferences, of taking home to her inmost confidence the acquaintance of a day. Her own character is too precious to be exposed in heedless traffic. Purity and love, the loftiest powers of our nature, not time alone, but eternity also, should form the seal of her lasting friendships.

Educate yourself at home and in private. By fireside fidelity the soul is expanded and our being lifted toward God. View your relative connections as each a Heaven-sent teacher. Incline your ear to them, as if through their lips an oracle uttered its decrees in your hearing.

By your Reading, much may be accomplished toward correcting your taste, enlarging your intellectual vision, and sanctifying your spirit. Form now the habit of daily reading some volume with reference to your personal improvement. Let no engagement seriously interrupt this practice. Read the writings of your own sex. Woman takes up her pen, usually, from the promptings of sympathy and affection. The temple she builds to literature, may have an altar consecrated to reason, or to imagination; but it is love, a high and holy love, which she inscribes on its portals. Her works thus not only elevate the taste but amend the heart.

Woman is addicted to the eager perusal of works of fiction. I regard this fact as an indication of a want of her nature. Not, therefore, to eradicate but to control, and direct, and restrain, this propensity, would I make an endeavor. In the words of the afflicted Lady Russell, used on the anniversary of her husband's execution, I would say, "I do not contend with nature, but keep her as innocent as I can." Select only such writings of this class as some judicious friend has recommended. Read poetry. If it be true poetry, it is the twin-sister of religion. It will exalt and ennoble your soul. Study history. From that you will draw unfailing draughts of knowledge and wisdom. Be familiar with good biography. Above all, make the Word of God your constant study. So will you be educated for every stage of your existence, and ripe clusters of virtues will adorn your life.

But louder than those of books are the praises of Meditation. Reflect on your reading. Let each line raise a rivulet on the bosom of your being; let there be in it no stagnant waters. Be active in mind; meditate on your daily experience, your prospects, your deficiencies, your progress, your hopes. Wouldst thou have peace in this world,

"From the soul itself must issue forth A light, a glory, a fair luminous cloud Enveloping the earth; And from the soul itself must there be sent A sweet and powerful voice, of its own birth, Of all sweet sounds, the life and element."

Wouldst thou enjoy peace in the interminable future, "lay these things to thy heart." Then shall thy inward beauties shine with a fadeless refulgence. All true power shall be given thee. Thou shalt be "a lady," not indeed of an earthly kingdom, but of that high realm, boundless as thy desires, and enduring as God.



Chapter IV.

HOME.

Domestic virtues the glory of a country. Views taken of Home. The Spiritual one. Scripture females distinguished at home. The Filial relation. Burns' touching description. Daughters of Milton. The Father. The Mother. Mrs. Sigourney on the "living lost." The good Sister Wordsworth. The Teacher. Other Inmates. Domestics. Home friendly to the Virtues. Health. Industry. Order. Frugality. Noble sentiment of Lady Jane Grey. Gratitude. Disinterestedness. Elizabeth of England. Charities. Quietness. Spirituality. Piety at home the zest of Joys. It gilds the darkest cloud.

Wherein consists the true glory of a people? Their prosperity does not lie simply in outward abundance. It depends far more on the solid virtues and the Christian graces of the young in their midst. And these qualities appertain not only to our sons, in whom it is often imagined the whole strength at least of nations is concentrated. Our daughters likewise are concerned in the advancement of this high object. One of the sacred writers implores for his countrymen this blessing; "that our daughters may be as corner stones, polished after the similitude of a palace." They must be "corner stones," lying at the very foundation of the social edifice, and therefore an essential part of its support. And to their power must be added moral beauty. They are to be "polished after the similitude of" that most splendid of structures, "a palace."

Observe also the relation through which the sex may afford this aid to their race. It is not petitioned by the writer referred to, that our women may become all eloquent orators; or be fitted to bear the sword, or sway the sceptre; nor yet that they may rival man in physical achievements; nor even is the prayer that they may be renowned for genius and intellect alone, or supremely. But to a far less conspicuous and imposing sphere are our thoughts directed by the Psalmist. It is to home, to "our daughters," and through them to the domestic relations in general, that we are pointed for the elements of public prosperity. "Happy is that people," among whom these are assiduously cherished. Happy are they, because a people "whose God is the Lord."

What views are usually taken by the youthful female of her parental home? It has various aspects. To one it appears pre-eminently as the place in which she is to find the necessaries, comforts, and, perhaps, luxuries, of life. The heads of the family are appointed to toil for her. At her feet must brothers and sisters lay the daily tribute of service. She exacts from each inmate all the attention that can be rendered to one born to command. She is, in one word, a household divinity.

Another regards her home as a scene for display. The furniture, the style, the outline, and the filling up, must be all for the eye of the visitor. If she consent to give her own hand to the work, the main motive is for fireside decorations.

A third is alive to the natural ties which bind her to one and another; but it is chiefly as a matter of sentiment, that she contemplates even the nearest and most sacred relations. Has she been absent for a season, how fervent are her salutations, on returning to her native spot. Does sickness assail a parent or a brother, and life seem exposed, what tears, what wringing of the hands, what uncontrolled wailings are heard. But the test of true love is not here. It is the personal sacrifices we make for another, the toil, self-denial, watchfulness and patient service we bestow on him, that reveal the sincerity and depth of our affection.

Still another class are those young women who esteem the great purpose of their home to be the furnishing all possible facilities for their literary instruction. If they attend school constantly and improve their time there, then they have a claim on all their connections to wait their bidding, and execute their mandates, in every interval of study. The whole being is thus absorbed in the intellect.

There remains one more view of the fireside, and that is the moral, spiritual, religious one. This I believe to be the grand figure on the canvass of domestic life. Every other should be subservient to this. It should stand forth with a commanding interest, and address us in a tone of authority. Our home may be welcome for the conveniences and comforts it affords. We may take a just pride in its external aspect. Our hearts are allowed to fix some of their affections on its objects. It is right that the young should seek earnestly the means of intellectual culture at the hands of parental care. But these are all "lesser lights." They can only borrow and reflect. There must be in the highest heaven a "greater light," even the Sun of Righteousness, or life sinks beneath a darkness that may be felt.

The Scriptures assign this rank to the moral bearings of home. The patriarchs exhibited their fairest virtues in the private relations of life. Judaism was penetrated with a domestic spirit. The age of the wise man could furnish qualities, of which, in the book of Proverbs, we have an illustrious picture, in the character of a perfect matron and wife. Sarah, Rebecca, Ruth, Hannah, where was the scene of their glory? In home. Equally does the New Testament exalt the spiritual influence of the domestic relation. Who was the immortal Mary? The mother of Jesus. What gave Martha and the other Mary their renown in the gospel? They were sisters of Lazarus, and partly from their fidelity as such, were loved by their Master. She who cast the two mites into the treasury, among the rich the richest, was the more commended because a poor widow. Lydia, not only gave herself, by the baptismal seal, unto God, but honored the cause in her household. Thus does home blend its waters with the river of life. Fidelity to its trusts is an inseparable ingredient in the cup of salvation.

Therefore would I conjure the youthful female to value her domestic bonds as a means of moral culture, and never, under sunny skies, or beneath clouds that lower, to lose sight of this use of them. She should carry into the detail of her daily walk religious principle. Not the slightest act should she perform, which is at war with her spiritual culture. Love, duty, trust, these may enter into the very soul of her being. Let her place them before her, and pursue them steadily, and she shall become the "corner-stone" of her family, "polished" with a divine lustre.

But, to render a greater aid to her who desires and wills domestic excellence, let us now speak of the particular relations of home, and their natural, consequent claims on the young of her sex.

The filial relation is replete with moral incentives. To both parents a daughter is indebted beyond even the powers of requital usually granted her sex. From the hour of her birth up to the present moment she has been to them an object of unceasing thought, care, and solicitude. The little being, over whom, as she graced the cradle, they hung with the deepest joy, spoke to their hearts the more eloquently, by her very inability to tell of her wants, by her utter helplessness. No labor was spared, no sacrifice withheld, did they promise to advance her happiness. A few weeks pass, and she is radiant with smiles, the emanations of light and love; but they are smiles effaced often by tears, and for these, the parent cannot rest till they dry on the cheek. And soon her age exhibits character, dispositions, propensities. How anxiously is their earliest developement observed. What plans are devised, what efforts employed, what prayers nightly ascend, that she may prove an heir of grace and godliness.

"The parent-pair their secret homage pay, And proffer up to Heaven the warm request That He who stills the raven's clam'rous nest, And decks the lily fair in flow'ry pride, Would, in the way his wisdom sees the best, For them, and for their little ones provide; But chiefly, in their hearts with grace divine preside."

That father, with what meditations, and watchfulness, and alternate hopes and fears has his soul been visited, as he looked on this daughter. How has his daily toil been cheered by the anticipation that its fruits would afford means to meet her wants, to educate her well, and to furnish resources for supplying the outward and inward necessities of her responsible age.

Can she love, respect, and honor this benefactor? Can she avoid it rather, who does not ask? I know how much has been written, in romances, of the devotedness of daughters; and yet the warmest coloring of this sentiment seems never beyond parental desert. There are scenes in which this truth is strikingly illustrated. It was a severe task for the daughters of Milton to read to their blind parent, languages sealed to their own understanding; but was it not the discharge of a simple duty? We are struck with the Roman instance of filial piety, in which the life-blood was shed by tender woman to save a father. Yet when should one meet a voluntary death, if not for the redemption of a parent?

Let the daughter confide then in her father, and seek so to demean herself that his eye might dwell fondly on the very secrets of her heart. Let her refer to his opinions, consult his wishes, and conform to his tastes and habits. His reception as he returns at evening to his fireside, should not consist in ceaseless importunities, nor of aught which terminates in unreasonable regards for self. How much better were a studious concern for his wants, and the bestowal of some act of delicate attention.

His pecuniary circumstances should be thoughtfully considered. Perhaps he is destitute. Then do not press him with calls he is pained, but yet compelled, to deny you. It may be that his fortune has recently been marred. Consider this, and be willing to relinquish personal gratifications and adapt your feelings and desires to his present situation. Or he is thrown, perhaps, on the bed of sickness. Manifest now the reality of that affection you professed for him in his health. Delight to bathe his fevered brow, and to perform those unnumbered services, for which Providence has qualified your sex.

In his old age be still more devoted. Point out to his failing vision the path he would tread. Let him feel that you are striving to solace his declining years, and to requite that love which was shed upon you, the earliest moment of your consciousness. Can you do less for him, now that desire fails and the grasshopper has become a burden and he must soon go to his long home? Of you may it be said,

"Amid the giddy round of prosperous years, The birth of new affections, and the joys That cluster round earth's favorites, there walked Still at her side, the image of her Sire."

But, if all this be due to a father, how shall we describe the claims of a mother? To this parent the daughter owes her very being. These are the arms which never tired of supporting her in infancy. For her the step was light, the voice hushed, the breath almost suppressed. To minister to her wants the social visit was forborne, and home made the one thought, until the cheek grew pale, and the eye dim for sleeplessness. The sickness of her daughter poured new waters into a cup, that seemed already filled with cares. To clothe and adorn her, every personal comfort was cheerfully foregone. That she might enjoy the best mental and moral culture, this mother discharged daily those services, which the domestic walk daily demands.

In sorrow there is no bosom that consoles like a mother's. Into her ear the child pours its every trial. When the world censures, she will soothe. Let injury, degradation, distress come upon us, let us dread the eye of others, or, through guilt, shrink timidly from them, we flee to her for refuge. This affection is bestowed on the daughter with a fulness and a permanence, which she cannot comprehend, and remain still insensible.

In view of her relation, the true daughter will always sympathize with, and aid, this her greatest earthly benefactor. It will be her study, not to throw every burden on her spirit, because she is willing to bear them. No, her point of view will be the opposite of this. "How much," she will ask, "can I do for my mother? Is there nothing in which I can relieve her from her toils? The utmost I can render her is but a meagre compensation for her countless sacrifices for my sake."

The daughter may not only think of those domestic duties which require manual efforts, but in the general education of her brothers or sisters, she may prove a powerful ally with their natural teacher. Having composed the infant to rest, let its childhood continue to be her care. She can aid it to lisp the first accents of its native tongue. In the rudiments of knowledge she may be an efficient instructor. For this work her age peculiarly qualifies her. As the breath of spring quickens the tender bud, so let her youthful spirit infuse vigor into these minds yet younger than her own.

For the sake of a mother's heart and hopes she should strive for a spotless character. What joy and pride will her obedience to Jesus impart. Let her know, that the virtue of her daughter is dear to a parent as life itself. What a weight is thrown on that bosom, if she fail of goodness. Death is grievous:

"But ye, who for the living lost That agony in secret bear, Who shall with soothing words address The strength of your despair?"

Weigh well the influence you exert on this parent. God has ordained that the child should re-act on the parent in his riper years, that the daughter should become in her turn the counsellor and the confidant of her mother. Let her wield this power with wisdom and in purity of conscience. Never take advantage of your influence, to secure a sanction of the wrong. But lead your mother, and aspire yourself, toward perfect integrity, and the sinlessness of heaven. Let the portraiture of a holy life be drawn on the canvass before you; then will you enjoy the sweet anticipation, as your tears bedew her grave,

"My mother—where thou art gone Adieus and farewells are a sound unknown. May I but meet thee on that peaceful shore, The parting word shall pass my lips no more."

If the claims of a parent be such as I have described, then no defect of character, still less any outward deficiency, can justify the daughter in a disregard of father or mother. Wealth does not increase the filial obligations, neither does poverty diminish them. Honors, dress, fashion did not lay the foundation of your duty to love and respect your parents. Let them then live in obscurity, or be constrained to wear plain apparel, or have unfashionable furniture, or lack graceful manners, none the less are you solemnly bound to honor and comfort them.

There is one circumstance, especially, which leads some young ladies cruelly to neglect their parents, and yet with no reason whatever. The daughter has received a better education than they; she has spent a few months, perhaps, at a boarding school, and learnt music and French. But what are these, and all her accomplishments worth, if they have but taught her to despise or neglect her truest benefactors? Can she cast off, in their old age, those who toiled and bore unnumbered burdens, to procure for her these literary privileges? If she do this, then, woe to her; and woe to the unfortunate being, to whom she may be joined as a partner. For no sin does the curse of Heaven more surely descend on one, let it be delayed as it may, than for unkindness to parents.

Nor does their guilt dissolve the bonds of filial duty. Every offender deserves more our pity than our cruelty or wrath. Who then should be commiserated and watched over, whose evil should we seek to overcome with good, and whose heart to melt by love, if not an offending parent's?

Another relation, happily suited to promote female virtue, is that of Brother and Sister. Here are those united, not only by nature, but by all those sacred and dear ties which belong to the associations of childhood. Theirs is not the conjunction for an evening of planets, whose orbits lie all apart; but it is a union that dates from the earliest moments of life. And it is one as pure as it is primitive, giving scope for unalterable attachment, and deep joys, for kind offices and sincere virtue.

But let it not be imagined that all these fruits spring from the soil spontaneously. Not of necessity is a sister happy in this relation; and the reason is apparent. She is not coerced into sympathy, and self-sacrifice, and devotedness to her brothers, and without these qualities no outward connection brings peace and pleasure to the heart. It must be her study to devise means, frame plans,—and to execute them faithfully,—of promoting their good. Far will it be from accomplishing this most desirable end, to make protestations of her love, when prompted by impulse. Her actions must be the still, small voice that conveys the rich tones of her heart. If she refuse to enter into the schemes and prospects of a brother, and to render him those minute services, which both indicate affection and prompt to it, she will regard this relation as a dull thing. It may be but a source of alienated feelings, of vexation and strife.

Especially must the sister guard well the avenues to moral danger, which beset her brothers. Let her strive to make home attractive in their sight. Is she competent in music, she has here a means of ever-new interest, and of affording that variety of recreation for which the young man thirsts. By pleasant conversation, and by reading occasionally a volume to a brother, she may bind him to the fireside. Does he desire to pass the evening abroad? Better join him, even at some cost of personal ease, or of taste, than leave him exposed to seek places of equivocal character. Be his confidant, his adviser, constant in demonstrations of kindness. Perhaps he is aiding your progress in the walks of intellect. How can you so well requite his care, as by a steady emanation of moral and spiritual light? A sister's love is often an amulet to the subsequent character of a circle of brothers. She whispers to them, when on the brink of temptation. Her form is ever present. Their thoughts wander often to their childhood's home, and in secret self-communion the sentiment re-visits the heart,

"For I, methinks, till I grow old As fair before me shall behold, As I do now, the cottage small, The lake, the wood, the waterfall; And thee, the Spirit of them all."

The services of a sister are peculiarly to be appreciated by the other sisters. If they comprehend most fully the joys of one another, so do they those sorrows, with which no "stranger intermeddleth." They, who have shared one mind and one heart, from their early days, can comprehend those sufferings which not even the parent, from her elder age, entirely participates. In sickness they may be true angels of mercy to each other. And in those trials, to which their condition through life subjects them, no sympathy is dearer than a sister's.

How unnatural is a deficiency in these holy dispositions. Can it be that the one is ever an object of envy, or jealousy, or ever regarded with distrust, coldness, or still more with hostility, by the other? Let them beware of the first approach of a contentious spirit. Their manners,—as indeed those of all in a family circle,—should never be rude, or careless, but ordered with watchfulness, delicacy, and propriety. The manner between sisters may be such as of itself to enshrine and secure their mutual kindness. It may too, by negligence, become a provoker of dissension and enmity. The fairest of maidens, is not she whose cheek mantles in beauty; but she whose gentle, Christian, courteous, carriage with brother and sister, radiates a perpetual moral beauty.

The eldest of a band of sisters is by nature appointed to teach, intellectually and spiritually, those of her circle younger than herself. How can she so well fulfil all righteousness in the domestic sphere, as by cheerfully sharing with her mother this office? Her age and experience qualify her to instruct the mind and train the affections, and tempt forth the virtues, of pliant childhood. Neither sister nor brother can estimate, in this life, all they owe to such a teacher. Eternity will reveal the extent, and complete the reward, of these sacred services.

The young woman may be useful, still farther, to all the Inmates of her father's dwelling. Not one of the number can witness her daily deportment, without receiving from it some impression of her character. And now what shall this be? Do all testify that she lives unto others, that the noble spirit of the gospel is inhaled, as the life-breath of her moral being? She has constant opportunities to deny herself for the sake of some member of the household. Does she seek, or does she shun, such opportunities?

It is not the parent alone, who has demands on her kind consideration. Nor yet is this duty restricted by the fraternal bond. Her remote relations should be sedulously regarded. Let me add that, if her situation be a favored one, her poorer relations should be objects of thought and attention. How ungrateful for her own blessings were she,—and how forgetful, that soon she also may experience the buffetings of fortune,—did she treat such a relation with negligence, or with a haughty, condescending, patronizing, which is often a heart-lacerating, attention.

Why should a visitor be despised because her age, or manners, or dress are not perfectly agreeable? Woman has been celebrated by travellers for her universal hospitality. Let it not be strangers alone, and these the learned and prosperous, who enjoy her smiles. All, who come beneath a father's roof, should be made to feel that the daughters are Christian ladies.

Nor should Domestics fail of receiving a respectful and generous treatment from the young females of the family. They are endowed with the same nature, body and mind, as ourselves. Why then demand of them tasks, which only the mere animal can sustain? We should strive to assist ourselves, for their sake, no less than our own. Spare them in their sickness. Speak to them always in a tone of gentleness. If an overbearing manner in the head of a family be hard to meet, how must it strike a domestic, when coming from the younger members? Above all, provide something for the mental, moral, and religious, good of the domestic. Can you not lend her a volume, or read aloud to her yourself? Can you not, occasionally at least, facilitate her attendance at church? Remember you must meet this being at the common judgment-seat of Christ; and let this thought pervade your whole manner toward her.

Having contemplated a part of the duties growing out of special domestic relations, let us now advert to a few of the prominent moral virtues, for whose culture home is peculiarly congenial.

I begin with what some may regard as hardly to be dignified with the name of duty. But if Health be essential to happiness, and the basis,—as it doubtless is,—of several Christian qualities, who shall deny the sacred title of duty, to the care of the physical system? Whence proceed that morbid sensitiveness, that sickly sentimentalism, and that puny selfishness, which sometimes mark the delicate woman? They spring from ill health; and while no means are employed to remove the root of these moral evils, in vain will the branches of each month or each day of her life be pruned diligently away. If there be no muscular energy the nerves become irritable, and the temper a source of perpetual disquiet, not only to one's self, but to every associate in the household.

It is therefore a duty of the young woman, for health's sake, not to allow a kind mother to become her waiting maid, but to exert herself in the performance of domestic, manual services. If she permit the needle to engross those hours, a part of which should be sacredly devoted to physical exercise, then let her know that God is thereby dishonored; for laws, which he thought worthy to establish, are, by her negligence, daily and directly violated.

Home is a moral school for the acquisition of habits of Industry. It is a singular fact that, while every young man is trained to a regular occupation,—even the sons of the wealthiest are so,—and to have no business or calling is, with this sex, deemed a reproach, young ladies are, in some circles, not only excused in indolence, but regarded as disgraced, if they are industrious and useful. Is this a pure state of society? Are not all who thus judge, and all who thus live, sadly deluded?

God has wedded industry and happiness, and ordained that they shall never be divorced. Idleness corrodes the mental faculties, and thus causes depression and gloom. It is the disturber of conscience; for nothing makes us so miserable, as the thought that we are wasting our lives, and are drones in society. Blessed are the poor; for they know the sweets of toil. Pitiable are the rich, if their treasures generate a selfish indolence.

Equally true is it that diligence is indissolubly bound to virtue. The mind, when unoccupied by profitable topics, roams on forbidden ground. Folded arms are accompanied by a distempered imagination. The tongue of the idle often setteth a world on fire; for scandal and gossip vegetate to rankness in the garden of sloth. The degradation, therefore, is not on the side of work. Be not ashamed to labor; for it is Heaven's decree that all should labor. Conceal not your industry. It is honorable, and honored by all good minds. In a republic especially, where the follies of caste should never enter, let woman, if she must glory, glory in being scrupulously devoted to some useful occupation. So living, she will find grace and goodness attend on her steps.

Where is the habit of order better acquired, than amid the routine of a well arranged household? In what school can a girl so well learn lessons of energy and firmness, as in that where she relieves a mother more and more, as her ability increases, of the charge of her family? Neatness is of primary importance. The care of a brother's linen, or even so humble a teacher as the duster, may inculcate this virtue. Let her, who prizes cheerfulness aright, know that never does she sing lullaby to an infant sister, or act as a peace-maker between two contentious brothers, without making music in her own heart.

At the period of my writing no quality is more loudly commended than frugality. It should always be encouraged, for its Christian influences. She, who is prodigal of her father's possessions, is seldom mindful of the calls of charity, or marked by propriety of dress, and the subordination of the appetites. I have elsewhere spoken of habits of industry as a preparation for reverses of fortune; but were a young lady perfectly assured of pecuniary independence through life, for the sake of her own character, she should be diligent and frugal. Let her expend freely for her mental culture, and devote large sums rather to the relief of the needy, than to selfish indulgences. She who belongs to the mass in this country, removed alike from the extremes of wealth and poverty, can never with impunity allow herself in habits of extravagance. This thought should be kept daily in mind, as she pursues the round of domestic duty. The wardrobe and the table constantly suggest it.

The duties of the fireside are friendly to Contentment. Why are females so often restless and disquieted at their own abode? Why does ennui prey on their spirits, save when some visit or visitor is in prospect? How should it be, that daughters, blest as those of America now are, should pant for the excitements of a round of public pleasures? Providence designed our institutions for the promotion of woman's content and peace, no less than for that of man. Her hearth-stone was intended to be dear to her soul. She, who takes right views of herself and her duties, will ever find it so.

Here is an individual, who is disturbed by ambition. Her own little family circle is too narrow a sphere for her. But she mistakes the springs of content. Let her know that the wreath she wears should rest on her heart. The reply of the illustrious Lady Jane Grey, to those who informed her that her father had left her the crown of England, is worthy of her sex. "I am not so young, nor so little read in the smiles of fortune, to suffer myself to be taken by them. My liberty is better than the chain you proffer me, with what precious stones soever it may be adorned, or of what gold soever framed;—if you love me sincerely and in good earnest, you will rather wish me a secure and quiet fortune, though mean, than an exalted condition, exposed to the wind and followed by some dismal fall." Her melancholy fate, which occurred within ten days from the utterance of this language, gave a new and sad proof of her rare sagaciousness.

She who is faithful in the domestic walk, enjoys singular opportunities for the exercise of Gratitude. Not only may she, by her assiduous attentions, partially requite a mother's services, but she can thus express her grateful sense of the superior elevation now allotted her sex. At the table and the fireside she may cause man to bear witness to, and rejoice in, the use she is making of her increased privileges. Here may she describe, in Christian colors, the much sought "line of beauty."

Our country has done for her what Greece and Rome proudly denied her sex. It has conferred on her the blessings of education, equality of companionship with man, new means of benevolence, and the pledge of new spheres of action, so far as nature qualifies her, and the paramount claims of undeniable duty shall permit. What returns shall she make? Her country asks but one. Fresh zeal in self-tuition and in training those subject to her charge, for domestic fidelity, for true citizenship, and for immortal virtue and blessedness.

Another moral aspect of home, to be regarded by woman, is that it affords room for the practice of habitual Disinterestedness. A selfish man is an object of painful contemplation. How much more is this defect to be deplored in woman. She, whose nature, so ardent and susceptible, prompts to an almost instinctive kindness, cannot fail in this quality, without shedding a blight on her entire character.

But designate a female insulated by circumstances from the usual family connections, uninterested in domestic duties, and how often do you see one destitute of sympathy and an expansive benevolence. Elizabeth of England had no love of home; and what do we hear of her? That she had a lion-like port; but woman-like, Christian-like, humane, she certainly was not. She passed through life, it is said, without a single friend.

She who performs the domestic duties aright, will find time for, as she must have calls and incentives to, Charitable services. The Sunday school is a sphere in which her fireside virtues prepare her to instruct. Teaching in general accords beautifully with the inspirations of home. Every female should be an intellectual and moral guardian to some portion of the young around her. In bestowing of her substance, and especially of her personal attentions, on the sick and the poor, she will find all she has done of good at home an invaluable prompter and aid. For the sake, therefore, of others, as a social and responsible being, let the flame she would support on the public altar be kindled from the vestal fire of the domestic one.

Again, what purity would it infuse into her Friendships, did the young maiden love first and serve best her own kindred. Let her deep affections be developed by fireside fidelity, and how may she expend, of these heart-gathered riches, on the friends she is making of her own sex. What a pledge has she given too of constancy in every new relation she may form.

Piety at home is friendly to that Quietness which is the "work of righteousness, and its effect" also. She is the true gentlewoman, who nurtures most faithfully in herself the calm virtues of the domestic walk. Heaven is a tranquil abode; let the soul be attuned for its harmonies by the quiet measures of fireside melody.

I close by saying, that in the family we may best cultivate a Christian Spirituality. There may self-communion be enjoyed. There too can we indulge in the perusal of those writings, which invigorate our faith, and give a firmer tone to our religious sentiments and our moral principles and habits. Be frugal of your moments, and each day you will redeem the hour for this duty, which God and the future demand. Commune habitually with that Being, whose countenance beams brightly on our dwellings. It is morning; trust not yourself to the trials and temptations before you, without commending yourself to your Immortal Guardian. It is evening; enter the sanctuary of the Holiest,

"And take the thought of this calm vesper time, With its low murmuring sounds and silvery light, On through the dark days fading from their prime, As a sweet dew to keep your soul from blight."

To all your literary acquisitions, and to every accomplishment, as a relative and a friend, add piety at home. That shall be an ornament of grace to thy neck. If God prosper your domestic ties, piety will give fresh zest to every homefelt joy. And should He call you to those trials, disappointments, and sorrows, of which, when they come on a household, woman must drink the dregs of the cup, how will you sustain them, without the love of God in your heart? Make Him your early trust, and He will gild the darkest cloud, with a ray of that mercy, which falls never so welcome as on the stricken heart.

"Earth may forsake—oh! happy to have given, The unbroken heart's first fragance unto Heaven."



Chapter V.

SOCIETY.

Dangers on entering Society. Of cherishing a Passion for it. Sensitiveness to Public Opinion. Dress; Miss Sedgwick's view of it; connected with virtues. Mrs. Hancock. Exposure of Health. Affectation; of extreme sensibility; of insensibility. Conversation for Effect. Entertainments. Nominal Morality. Two guards, Moral Independence, and Ingenuousness. Dangers in regard to your own Sex. Envy. The Swiss sisters. Jealousy. Detraction. Ridicule. Flattery. Cultivate Gentleness. Dr. Bowring in regard to Ladies in the East. Kind Feelings. "The art of being Pleased." Good Sense. Good Taste. Amusements. A holy Purpose.

We spoke, in the preceding chapter, of the paramount demands of home on the youthful female. This was represented as the central luminary of life. We are led naturally, in this place, to note those influences adverse to domestic piety. There are planets, in the moral heaven of woman, whose orbits are so eccentric, that their motions are of fearful import to her heart. When she enters society, an equal among elders, it is a trying exigency; a crisis then occurs in her character. Her temptations are numerous, while her moral energy is usually less decided than at subsequent periods.

Among the perils appertaining to this stage, of a general description, I name, first,

That of cherishing a Passion for Society, to the neglect of domestic duty. To one issuing from an ordinary light, into the broad glare of the sun, there is danger that the vision may suffer. How often has she, who might have graced her home through all coming years, had she retained her first love of it, failed and fallen from this height, by being overpowered by the dazzling charms of a round of new pleasures. In vain has a brother, distant from home, entreated that she continue a sisterly correspondence. To no purpose has the gentle voice of a mother been at length raised against her dissipating course. The spell of a sorcerer is upon her. She is a doomed woman; there, in the gay world, fluttering, perhaps the admired of all admirers. Her own hearth-stone is deserted; and what must we anticipate, should she be placed at the head of a new household?

Another exposure, always to be feared in society, arises from the sensitiveness of woman to Public Opinion. In our country this influence brings danger and evil to both sexes. The language of Cecil, if true of London, is more so of America. "Doing as others do is the prevalent principle," he affirms, "of the present female character. This,—so far as it avails with man or woman,—is the ruin, death, and grave of all that is noble, and virtuous, and praiseworthy." An inordinate desire to please every one is surely a snare to integrity and purity of character.

But who so tempted, in this respect, as a young, dependant, and almost helpless, female? Such are the customs of society, that woman is placed beneath the protection of man. A consciousness of this position cannot fail to awaken a strong desire for his favor. This sentiment, always active, will have a superadded sway over one just entering the path of social life. In future days she will gain, perhaps, new confidence in herself, and rely more on her inward resources, while in the world. But now, she must lean much upon others, and will, almost insensibly, conform unduly to their wishes and practices. Let a guard be early stationed at this post of peril.

In regard to her Dress, the young woman is liable to subject herself completely to that form of public opinion termed fashion. This power, elsewhere an idol, seems in the realm of dress a very Moloch. How often are our children cast into its fiery arms, and the cries of the victim, or rather the cries of duty, and reason, drowned by the harsh music of the world.

Not only at evening parties, in the streets, and at Lectures, but in the very house of God, you shall see the dominion of this tyrant. I quote, on this topic, an eminent female writer of our country. "From your youth upwards you are accustomed to hear such remarks as follow: 'Did you observe Mrs. M.'s dress last Sunday? She must have got it from France; it was something so out of the common way, I could not take my eyes off from her all church time.' Another wore some article so old, or ill-fashioned, as to be unfit to be seen at church. A third looked so ugly in black that she 'must detest going into mourning.'" Now is not all this unworthy a rational and immortal being? Shall even the sanctuary be profaned by this polluting intruder? It is only our familiarity with such scenes, that prevents our shedding angel tears over this sin.

Why should it concern us, that Paris is glittering with some new token of her passion for outward adorning? It is sad to see the devotion of this young republic to the customs and follies of the old world. The gardener tells us, that a tree or a flower, unless imported from abroad, has almost no value in the sight of our boasted horticulturists. Let us reform this spirit of servitude, and, repair to our own fields and forests for specimens of beauty. Let the good sense and the good taste of the American woman, shew to the nations abroad, that we will not servilely depend upon them, for every turn of a collar, or form of a bonnet. Had we more of "the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit," yes, a quiet, contented, and Christian spirit, we should devise for ourselves meet fashions and modes of apparel.

My reason for dwelling on this subject is, that it has important Moral relations. I do not deny that dress may be properly regarded, both from a reasonable conformity to custom, and as an expression of the sense of beauty. Nay, I believe it may minister to several of the virtues. Neatness, economy and purity, rank high in the Christian scale of attainments, and all these are promoted by propriety of dress. It is indeed a good index of one's character. Modesty and simplicity, those prime moral qualities, are very often manifested by the mere materials, or the construction, or adjustment, of the dress. Let it never, therefore, be viewed as a matter of indifference. Still less should a lady excuse herself in negligence in this respect, even for the care of her family, or the culture of her mind. Least of all should she affect a total unconcern about dress. The wife of John Hancock was remarkable, to the close of her life, for her attention to the neatness and beauty of her apparel. "I will never forgive," said she, "a young girl who does not dress to please, nor one who seems pleased with her dress." Literary ladies are sometimes strangely negligent in this respect. They may imagine that carelessness about personal appearances will be taken for a proof of genius. But men do not thus judge. On the contrary, they regard her as truly great, who is eminent for learning and talents, and at the same time not unmindful of dress and manners.

The sin of this matter lies in a breathless devotion to outward adorning. This is fatal to the inward and Christian graces. She who foregoes a reasonable regard to economy, for the sake of dress, is decidedly culpable. We are told that "a collection of three hundred and fifty pounds was once made for the celebrated Cuzzona, to save her from absolute want; but that she no sooner got the money than she laid out two hundred pounds of it in the purchase of a shell cap, which was just then in fashion!" Something of the same prodigality is often exhibited, only on a smaller scale. She who thinks more of her apparel than of her language, more of adopting the latest fashion than of conversing with intelligence, and demeaning herself as becomes a disciple of Jesus, must beware of her moral exposure.

Let it not be conceived, that whatever of error woman exhibits in her attachment to fashion is to be charged on her sex alone. The other sex have, in too many instances, extolled and idolized foreign modes of dress. It has been to gratify man,—and he knew the disposition that prompted it,—that such folly and excess have been shown in her apparel. Yet will I say that it is not so with us all; few, very few of our sex are propitiated by an extravagant care for fashions. Most men are pained by the attenuated forms and pale countenances of those, who are slaves to every new mode of dress. They prefer the bloom of health, and the evidences of good taste, good sense, purity and propriety, seen in a well-dressed female, to the caricatures sanctioned only by the name of some foreign city.

The care of a young lady's health is another interest affected much by her entrance into society. The little girl is a picture of bloom and buoyancy. And why? Because fashion permits her to sport in the freedom of nature. The laws of God are allowed, in her case, to be so regarded as to secure her health. But for our young lady, it were rude and disreputable in her to indulge in those bodily exercises essential to her physical wellbeing.

There is much ignorance, I am aware, among this sex, in reference to the conditions of health. Yet more are they who sin in this respect against light, than in the absence of it. Is it not known that the exposure of the feet to wet and cold, in shoes genteelly thin, may induce disease? Can it be, that the multitudes, who compress the lungs and chest into half the space designed for them by nature, and thus occasion diseases of the spine, if not even consumption, sin all in ignorance? A slender waist was not regarded in ancient Greece as an attribute of female beauty; in Paris it is now usually deemed a deformity. When will this perverse taste in America be corrected? Let gentlemen cease to praise such distortions of the frame, and let ladies exhibit the intelligence and regard to the laws of God, which will second and secure a reform. Who does not know that the Chinese barbarity of a pinched foot is contrary both to health and true taste? Why should we refuse instruction from the ancient models of beauty, on these points, more than on others? Is it not known that to pursue the dance in winter through the chills of midnight, and return to one's home, as the day dawns, in summer apparel, is treading that path which has led thousands to consumption? Yes, too often are these guilty practices indulged in merely from the bondage of fashion. Not only are parental voices unheeded, but personal convictions are silenced, rather than violate its Draco-like laws.

There may be men who encourage woman in the culture of a false delicacy in reference to her health. There must be somewhere a power, before which these unhappy beings do homage. Else had we never witnessed that affected fastidiousness of appetite, and that affected sickliness, so fashionable in some circles. Let this sex, however, for the sake of self, and of posterity, of man and of God, rise above that wretched servitude, which calls for the sacrifice of sound constitutions, and sometimes even life itself, rather than permit the "tender and delicate woman to set the sole of her foot on the ground." Let physical vigor, attended by mental excellence and moral soundness, become a part of her noble adorning. No more may childhood and youth be the only seasons, in which public opinion shall tolerate those generous exercises in the free air, by which buoyancy and vigor may be prolonged even to old age.

Fashion, if allowed its entire sway, leads woman into many modes of Affectation. Rosseau affirms that "artifice is a talent natural to woman. Let," he says, "little girls be in this respect compared with boys of the same age; and if these appear not dull, blundering, stupid, in comparison, I shall be incontestibly wrong." Does this, if it be true, explain in any measure the strange fact that the servants of fashion must never be known as industrious, still less laborious in any useful avocation? that they must be always at leisure for the morning call and the evening levee? Nothing, in some circles, would prove so fatal to a lady's reputation for gentility, as the character of a working woman. The more idle and dependant on others, the greater the renown.

And then, too, to be in high repute, one must feign an ignorance of every kind of employment. To be a good housewife, to understand every domestic duty, is degrading in the extreme. It is thought a proof of vulgarity to be acquainted with ordinary things. Pride is taken in egregious mistakes as to certain persons, places, and pursuits. To show a knowledge of what is done beyond her own caste would be to forfeit her rank, and would expel her from the highest circles in society.

How many in the fashionable world conduct as though an excessive refinement of feeling were the chief praise of their sex. They cannot witness any spectacle of suffering and pain; it shocks their nerves to be present with the sick. O how fallen is she from the high station, for which God created her, who thus shrinks from scenes where the beauty and glory of her nature may be so nobly displayed! Can it be that an affected sensibility shall shut one of this sex from the chamber of sickness? Lives there the man, who commends this wretched sentimentalism? If there be one such in this land, we devoutly hope that our soil may soon cease to be polluted by his steps. Let him take refuge among the nobility of man's fabrication; for God hath denied him a place among his.

There is but one species of affectation, to be more severely reprehended, in this connection, than that now considered; it is the opposite of this, a feigned Insensibility. I once heard a lady, who was about parting from a circle of most valuable friends, parting too from her own native spot, on being asked if she did not feel deep regret at the thought of leaving those scenes, reply, "What good would it do to cry about it?" The expression might manifest the philosophy of a Stoic, but a Christian philosophy, I am sure it did not. And a more unfeminine spirit than it discovered, I have never known in one of her sex. If it be weak in woman to exhibit great sensibility, it argues no moral strength, to guard against this by affecting to be a stock, or a stone. "The haughty woman who can stand alone, and requires no leaning-place in our heart, loses the spell of her sex."

Another form of the disposition in question, to be avoided by her who is entering society, is Conversation for the sake of Effect. It is feared by some that the simple truth, simply expressed, will fail to attract and impress. Hence come departures into the boundless field of imagination. Ridicule is employed to color, and give zest to, the truth. Or Mirth suggests the addition of some new fact to a story, that the laugh may be universal and loud. Exaggeration is employed. The plain food of truth must be seasoned by here throwing in a circumstance, and there suppressing one. An emphatic tone, a nod, or a gesture, intimate far more than the lips dare express. A favorite phrase is continually recurring, or a set of superlatives, shewing that nothing common occurs in the sphere of this individual. Perhaps Irony is indulged, to such unreasonable extent, that a stranger to our young lady's habits of conversation, would be totally at a loss to judge when she was in earnest, and when trifling with the truth.

Now all this "colloquial romancing," as one styled it, is a violation of duty to God and our fellow creatures. It is a deviation from the truth of God; it is unjust to those, of whom, and to whom, it is daily addressed. She, who is soon to be exposed to this moral contagion, should be kindly forewarned of its approach. Honor, affection, and her personal good, through the range of her whole being, forbid her to yield to the temptation.

In the world, a young woman is in danger of a love of Fame, as concerns her Personal appearance, her style of Living, and especially the Entertainments given, on her account, by her parents. It is right that we love the approbation of the virtuous; nor may we violate good taste for the sake of defying popular opinion. But she, who allows her desire of human esteem to supplant the higher sentiments and principles of our nature, clearly does wrong. And are there not those, who pine in secret, because they receive less notice than their ambition craves? It is nothing to such that hundreds are won, so long as a single heart refuses them homage. What condition more truly deplorable than this insatiable thirst for applause? We are told that Elizabeth of England, "who referred everything to self, was even jealous of the beauty and the dress of her maids of honor. When advanced in years, the sight of her face in a mirror would throw her into transports of rage, and so exasperated did she become, as finally to lay her mirror wholly aside."

You shall see this same spirit manifested in an excessive care for showy furniture, in the encouragement of artificial and numberless wants, and in a willingness to live on resources dishonestly obtained, and on means belonging rightfully to another, sooner than relinquish one particle of former splendors. In ambitious entertainments, how often is woman tempted to lift herself above those, whom it should delight her to meet in society as her equals. If they can afford only plain walls, hers must be garnished. Her chamber must exhibit tapestry, and her windows the silken and fringed curtain, or she will not surpass them. Her table must groan beneath the productions of all climates. Already it is said, we in America expend in our dwellings, on a slender income, more than many in Europe, who have millions at their command.

Now let the young woman be made acquainted with these facts. Although a fond father or mother would fain make her presentation eclipse the displays of her richest neighbors, let modesty dissuade her from this course. She may save a parent from bankruptcy. He, who is a true friend, will assure her that life is not that rose-colored thing, which some of her companions describe to her. Let her know that a vortex is before her, and ere her feet are within its feeblest eddies, let her prudently escape the peril. A quiet life, inward adorning, should be the jewel worn nearest her heart. If she cherish a thirst for outward exhibitions, too late may it be her doom to feel that the sunshine of the world's favor and applause, has but beamed upon her, to make more fearfully distinct the caverns and wastes of her ever unsatisfied heart.

The young woman is passing into a state of society in which she will find much merely nominal Morality. At home she has probably been nurtured amid sincere hearts, and under the high standard of Christian action. In the world she will hear indeed the same standard, for the most part, verbally commended. But let her not anticipate the same practical conformity to its requirements. She will still be told that purity of mind, soul, and manners, is the shield of her sex, and yet, in some circles, practices shall be tolerated, or fashions of dress, or conversation permitted, which to her all-unsophisticated reason must seem absolutely indefensible. History tells us, that in the thirteenth century, when the plague raged in Florence, it spread through the suburbs of that city, from the exhalations of certain beautiful flowers. See, my young friends, that the lovely associates of your life, even by their most interesting traits, do not betray you into, first slight, then graver, and at length into serious, departures from rectitude and purity.

As a check against the corrupting influences of popular opinion and practices, woman should cultivate two virtues, Moral Independence, and perfect Ingenuousness. If she determine to cleave sacredly to her homebred convictions of right, let the world commend or condemn her, she will maintain the royalty of her sex. Her path will be broad, free, upward, and ever toward God and felicity. But let her succumb to society, and bow to every mandate of fashion, and she shall become a mental and moral slave.

Equally would I incite you to the retention of your youthful Frankness, and Simplicity. When a child, you expressed precisely what you felt. Let not womanhood rob you of this angelic trait. Shun art; abhor affectation. Set to your seal, that, if detected in this habit, you will lose the confidence and the respect of all noble minds. Know that if you are always ingenuous, you will secure self-respect, and a conscious integrity of heart. Let clouds lower, let the storms of deceit menace the circle you grace, on you will all eyes fix,—and none more benignantly than the All-seeing one above;—and in you will all behold the blue ether of Heaven.

If the general dangers which beset a young woman, on her entrance into society be great, those which have reference to her own Sex require of her a peculiar watchfulness. Let philosophy explain, as it may, the cause, nothing is more certain than that the feelings, and deportment, and speech, that occur between her and her sister females, are a source of constant temptation. Man has charity for the faults of woman; and she has much for the errors of his sex; but for those of her own sex how contracted is her mercy. Never are her Christian principles so tried, as when the character of another is in any wise impeached. Curiosity, opening paths filled with snares, often leads her to venture, where angels dare not tread. Let her mark well its perils, and beware how she intermeddle, with tongue or thought, in the secrets of her neighbor.

A root of iniquity in this world is Envy. In the lower grades of society what pining and misery might be traced to this baleful passion. Why are the actions of a rich rival, or one endowed with personal charms, or gifts in conversation, and the object of attraction in society, so often disparaged, and ascribed to any but pure motives? Whence is it, that a woman of talent and literary claims shall be thought by so many of her sex tinged with "blue?" Why the secret endeavor to awaken ill-will toward the distinguished, and the reluctance to join in the defence of such, when unjustly accused? Too readily are the faults of a compeer rehearsed, and too slowly are her virtues acknowledged. Should the modesty of some one be commended, may it not be because her diffidence gives us room to pass before her in the public eye?

During the middle ages, the young and the beautiful were sometimes burned at the stake, on the charge of having dealt in magic. If the body be not thus sacrificed, in this latter age, truth knows that the peace and happiness of many an innocent young woman are devoured by insatiate envy. Imitate, my young friends, the sweet temper of those ladies in Switzerland, who are reported to be so firmly knit together in the Infant Societies peculiar to that country, as often to meet, after separation, in the meridian of life, with the affection of sisters. A love like this would scorch and destroy each germ of envy, while it gave life, vigor, and permanence, to a gospel charity.

Akin to envy is the passion of Jealousy. The conscious possession of eminent attainments exposes one to this sin. Let it not be palliated, as if consistent with humility. It is the child of a morbid selfishness. It is pride, which makes us jealous of inferiors; never does humility. Observe the manners of her who is infected with this spirit. Does that lofty carriage, do those averted eyes, and that sullen lip, speak of self-abasement? Woman, dwelling in and for her affections, is prone insensibly to indulge the risings of jealousy. A female writer says, "Our sex are apt to be more aristocratic than men." The aristocracy of claiming attention, friendship, promptly and unremittingly manifested, the aristocracy, in a word, of the heart, who can doubt that this sex often does cherish. Counsel, therefore, calls them to be vigilant, lest they offend in this respect, even unawares. Is a young maiden in prosperous circumstances? Let her know that the growing fortunes of another will excite her to temptation and prejudice. Even now the branches of the oak, that will tower and shade her whole being, might be detected in the acorn. Has God endowed her with personal charms? Prudence would apprise her, that "if the body be a paradise, it needs a cherub to guard the spirit within it."

Especially, in this connection, would I warn my female friends against the vice of Detraction. There are those, who find pleasure in repeating what they hear of the sins of a neighbor. If a misfortune befall another, it is made food for calumny. Her adversity is made the occasion of intruding on her most private concerns, and exposing them to the world. Compassion is expressed, and yet in a tone that betrays a secret exultation. Faults are descried and magnified; no sympathy is felt for the sufferer, but a vulgar curiosity bruits the ill-natured rumor, and many hearts must hence bleed in their unseen solitude.

How easily may a few words, spoken concerning an enemy, or a rival, kindle a village into flames. Recklessness may prompt speeches, full of mistatements, wounding the fame of another, which a life may be insufficient entirely to correct. The young woman must set herself resolutely in opposition to this practice. If she once form the habit of selecting the errors of others of her sex for her usual topic of discourse, time may make it like the change of the leopard's spots, if she ever thoroughly reform. A light word, a breath, may so scatter the Sybil's leaves, that no human power can again reduce them to order.

A most dangerous weapon, when employed by one of this sex against a sister, is Ridicule. Not only does it rob her who indulges it of the rich joys of admiration, but it poisons the depths of her own spirit, and breaks the peace of her associates. Few are they, who have not some foible or personal defect, on which this vice may fix itself. One is an object of taunts for her ignorance; another for a plain face; a third for an impediment in her speech; and how many suffer this infliction for some article of dress proscribed by that mistress called fashion. Too often are we reminded of the fabulous Melusina, to-day, a theme of wonder, for her grace and eloquence, to-morrow, a loathsome reptile, with a tongue full of scorpion stings. How does every attraction we feel toward her, who was framed with powers of speech to obey the highest law of God, wither, as flax in the flames, when the lips thus breathe desolation around them. The eye of the eagle is there piercing all depths by its intelligence; but the soaring wing of that bird is wanting.

It is the office of woman, her high privilege indeed,

"To heal and pacify distempered spirits."

Can she then sufficiently dread and shun dissensions with her own sex? Allow that an associate has reached that eminence, which you could not attain, be it in learning, affection, or fortune. Will you foster toward her a spirit of animosity? Is there one of this sex alive to the noble capacities of her nature, that can descend so low, as to seek redress for fancied or real injustice, by girding on the armor of retaliation and resentment? Remember Jesus, and you will bow to the wrongdoer meekly, magnanimously.

Nor should our young friend yield to a disposition to Flatter her favorites, any sooner than one to depreciate a rival. We may praise another simply to gain a return in kind. Or we may do it thoughtlessly, and by impulse. In each of these cases, we not only injure her by inflating her vanity, but wrong our own souls. Nor are all commendations right, which spring from a desire to gratify others. Ill-timed or excessive praise often does serious evil. It is only that which is just, rational, and moderate, that we should bestow on a friend. Avoid flattery; express precisely the approbation you feel, professing no affection you do not possess, and promising no fidelity, that circumstances may forbid you to manifest, and you will then speak the words due to merit, perfectly free from falsity, and acceptable in the sight of God.

To speak now of the positive view of our subject, I would name a few virtues and graces, of primary concern in a young woman's intercourse with society.

There should be Gentleness of Manner. In this term we include not simply external appearances, though these are of no trivial importance. If manner impress and accomplish much in the sterner sex, as we all have felt, it is in the other, almost omnipotent. Dr. Bowring informs us that, in his recent travels in the East, he found the Samaritan, Syrian, and all Mussulman, ladies were accustomed to veil themselves in public. He was asked whether "the English women were so immodest as to walk out with uncovered faces?" Thus highly are gentleness and modesty prized by the heathen. Should they be less so by us? What object more revolting than a coarse and rude woman? In such we expect,—and we are seldom disappointed,—to find a rough character, a destitution of the gentle spirit of goodness and Christ. Will not one of this class flame against her dress-maker, if some point of fashion be violated by her? Must we not fear that animal impulse will control her actions? I recommend no courtly airs, no studying of gesture, or look. But I must think that, simplicity, freedom from pretence and affectation, modesty, self-possession, escaping both reserve and boldness, and a perfectly frank, truth-speaking manner, are deserving the culture of every female, who seeks the true adorning, and who would give pleasure, and do good, to others. Octavia was none the less marked by a Roman severity of virtue, because gentleness and grace shone through her bearing. Neither is the Christian woman the more pious, for an utter disregard of the courtesies of life.

But lest some should misinterpret these remarks, I will add that there must be grace at heart. Kind Feelings, or the most accomplished manners are but a splendid hypocrisy.

Avoid discourtesy, but avoid still more a hollow, insincere, merely outward, gracefulness. If the feelings be correct, the manner will usually be so. Corregio painted three furies, represented by as many young women, with beautiful forms and regular features. Looking intently on the hair, you might see a single serpent wreathed in its tresses; and studying the expression of their countenances, you detected in them cunning, malice, and cruelty. Such "beauty" and grace are truly "vain."

No single quality is so essential in society as a willingness to be pleased. "There is one art," says a late writer, "which those whose object it is to charm, would do well to cultivate, the art of being charmed. For it rescues many an hour from listlessness and discontent, by freshening all the springs of life and action, awakening in old age the energy of youth, and persuading the weary and desponding that they have still the power to please, and that even for them the world has happiness in store." Opposed to this stands caprice, a morbid desire of attention, a self-consequence, which would draw all eyes and all thoughts to its own important person. This spirit is full of coldness, jealousy, and every unamiable sentiment. Let the young woman forget herself, and study the feelings of others. She will then notice the modest, encourage the diffident, and strive to call forth concealed talent and virtue. She will scrupulously avoid all allusions, that would give pain to the hearer. His ill-fortune, the trade he pursues, if unpopular, or his low extraction, or the faults of his connections, and his own misdemeanors, will be carefully kept out of view. Thus will the inward man be perpetually overflowing with Christian courtesy.

Good Sense is another requisite of female civility. "The excitable imagination and ardent feelings of woman," says a female writer, "expose her to exaggeration of sentiment." Ignorant and weak women mortify their friends and disgust many others, in society. They talk for the sound's sake, giving flippant utterance to the commonplaces of the day. But did God endow this sex with speech, to be exercised only on folly and nonsense? No, we have seen too many living examples to the contrary, of women

"alike from careless levity remote, And a behavior schooled by selfish rules, Alike removed from rashness and from fear."

Is not this better than the indulgence in perpetual trifling and tattle?

How long shall it be charged on this sex that they often yield, without an attempt at self-control, to their supposed natural volatility? If man be constitutionally grave, and life be with him all a serious affair, then should woman supply this want by careful self-culture. I would not frown on the innocent gratifications of the tongue; but I would entreat this sex, instead of seeking their pleasure in discussing the concerns of their neighbors, to pause, consider, and resolve that they will set their feet in a new path. Do not reveal the secrets of a family, because accidentally made acquainted with them, or privileged with their intimacy. Disdain, as unworthy your nature and your sex, the practice of prying into the domestic affairs of others. Cultivate a taste for reading, and talk of books and principles, not persons. And never forget that "for every idle word you must give account" hereafter. Be so filled with good sense and knowledge, that of you it may be said, mark

"that fund of truth and sense, Which though her modesty would shroud, Breaks like the sun behind the cloud."

Good Taste is needful in society. There are those, who so appear, as "thoughtless of gracefulness, to be yet grace itself." This is the native endowment of some; but all may approximate toward it. Propriety is a rich ornament of female speech. Modesty is a cardinal point in good taste. But let it be sincere. In the early ages of Rome, the women, in general, wore veils in public. Latterly they were worn by certain of the beautiful, but disreputable of that sex, partially to shade the face, and thus add to their unholy fascinations. Beware of a tincture of this spirit. Let your deportment be always so pure and self-respectful, that "guilt shall seem a thing impossible in you." Consummate the marriage intended, under Providence, between Taste and Virtue.

The last topic I name in this connection is Moral Courage. There is a tyranny of circumstances which you may sometimes fail of successfully resisting. But never may you desist from the attempt to do this. Strive to maintain, mildly, yet firmly, every particle of the ground of right and duty.

Perhaps no one source of temptation will so try your moral energies, in this respect, as that of amusements and recreations. God intended that you should sometimes rest from toil, and find relaxations to repair your exhausted spirits. Pursued for this purpose, they will ever prove more than innocent; they will be useful, and acceptable before Heaven.

I would not specify particular amusements. For, perilous as are theatrical entertainments, and protracted dances, there is, sometimes, greater guilt in the scandal of those who condemn, than in the character of those who pursue, them. But why desire these exciting indulgences? Why risk health and morals, for the sake of a few hours' pleasure? Excitement do you seek? Where is there more of this, so far as it is rational and safe, than in leaving your studies for an hour's domestic avocations; for a walk amid the enchanting beauties of nature; or for a cheerful interview with a tried friend? In the very change of employments, there is a fund of recreation. To train a few flowers for the hand of the sick, or prepare a dish of fruit for a neighbor, is a blessed amusement. Of such enjoyments you would never be constrained to ask, "May I safely partake in them?" They are sweet at the moment, and hallowed by the ever-fresh joys of memory.

Enter, finally, the world, with the holy purpose of passing its fiery ordeal unharmed. Let not fashion enslave and consume your soul. If society would degrade your nature, say to it, "Get thee behind me, Satan." So will it exalt, and purify, and save, instead of overwhelming, you in perdition. Avow before all persons, your attachment to principle, to your Savior, and your God. Fix your eye, not on this vanishing scene, but on that land, where lies "the pearl of great price." Submit not for a day to the dominion of an outward adorning. Let the jewels you wear, be fastened on "the hidden man of the heart." Be ornamented with incorruptible robes. Secure, most of all, not the renown of earthly admiration, but that honor, which, when the world and its charms shall be dissolved and melt like the morning vapor, will crown you with laurels that fade not away.



Chapter VI.

LOVE.

Delicacy of the topic. Love, how regarded. As a Mystery. Burns' lament. As an Illusion. An Impulse. A Weakness. A Disease. Romantic views of Love. A Fatalism. "Matches made in Heaven." Some say, "Love can be Suppressed." Associated with Lower Propensities. A theme for Jesting and Sport. Quotation, shewing its holy nature. The mind not to dwell constantly upon it.

In approaching the topic named at the head of this chapter, I am by no means insensible of its difficulties and its delicacy. But no one can contemplate its bearings on the happiness of woman, without feeling that a work, treating of her duties and prospects, in which this subject is studiously avoided, must be regarded as essentially defective. It is the remark, I think, of Madam de Stael, that "love, which is but an episode in the life of man, is the whole history of woman." Without subscribing to this opinion in full, we must still contend that the destiny of her affections is to her a theme of vital interest. She cannot but reflect much upon it; and since her views may affect so deeply her ultimate decision in reference to a matrimonial connection, is he a true friend who fails to give her all the light, and counsel, and guidance in his power, on this point?

It is well known that not a few among the insane of this sex have been made so by their erroneous ideas relative to the exercise of the affections. I may be pardoned for adverting, in this place, to some of the many and various views entertained in regard to the sentiment of love.

One considers it a Mystery, something with which the understanding has no concern, and which is never to be reasoned upon, although we may exercise that prerogative on all other subjects. Hence, according to the Roman mythology, Amor, the God of love, is represented as blind-folded. His arrows inflict wounds, it is said, of which the sight can take no cognizance. The language of the poet records the bitter experience of woman, often consequent on this delusive impression:

"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted."

The opinion under consideration is egregiously erroneous. Woe to her who abandons the helm of judgment, in forming that connection, which is to decide her whole fortune for life. Ill-fated must she be, who concludes that the head and heart must be divorced, before she can experience that sentiment, which binds human souls in the sacred tie of marriage.

Another believes love to be an Illusion. She thinks it a subject fit only for the fevered imagination of the poet, or for tales of fiction and romance. With the realities of life it has no concern. In this plain, matter-of-fact, working-day world, there is no room, she thinks, for this creature of the brain. Therefore does she determine to fortify herself against its approaches. Others may pursue the phantom, if they will, but she is resolved to be never so cheated, as to "fall in love" with a man.

The enthusiast may subject herself to severe disappointments, and may find ultimately that the husband she loved and married, under the sway of the blind god, falls far short of that mysteriously exalted being she deemed herself connected with for life. But far more to be deplored is her fate, who entered the matrimonial state with the Stoical faith that love was all an "illusion." What sympathy can those, thus joined, but not wedded, feel in the season of sorrow? How little will they share, or even imagine, those joys which spring up between hearts that have been pledged, exchanged, and cemented.

There are those, who regard love as of necessity a mere Impulse; a thing not subject in any wise to human control, but fitful, an outbreaker, a tyrant. They can govern other emotions and sentiments. Anger, envy, jealousy, resentment, pride, they believe capable of being moderated, if not wholly suppressed. But love is lawless. Its mandates must be obeyed, and that instantly; they may not be opposed, no, not even questioned.

Who has not seen some young woman of talent and virtue sacrifice herself to this mistaken impression? The plume of the soldier, the gay air of the debauchee, the flippant beau, the half-insane tippler, could she not have seen her doom in being affianced to one of these poor pageants of humanity? Ah, but "she loved; she could not help loving;" she gave herself a victim at the profane shrine, because she always thought she must love where and whom, her unbidden, irresponsible, feelings should direct her to love.