LETTER I.

I AM honored, my dear sir, by the correspondence with which you favor me; and gratified, by the friendly man­ner in which you write to one, who can lay no other claim to your friendship, than that which arises from your benevolence. While your observations, on the princi­ples of society and government, entertain, they improve the mind. There is a pleas­ure, in finding the sentiments of others accord with our own; and mutual advan­tage may arise, by an interchange of ideas, while glowing friendship becomes more ardent and more pure: there is a luxury in friendly intercourse, unknown to vul­gar minds; nor can the vicious ever taste its purest delights.

[Page 14]THE sincerity of your friendship, I have never doubted; but am not so ready to ensure you against an imputation, on the soundness of your judgment, in the press­ing request you make, for my "sentiments on a mode of domestic education, suited to the present state of society, government and manners in this country." The sub­ject is important; it involves all the best interests of society, of families, and of in­dividuals: but it has been the subject of so much disquisition; so many treatises have been written, and so many plans laid before the world which promised success; that it may be deemed exhausted, and drained of all materials for fabricating a new system, or even for adding to, or im­improving upon, the old. Education, however, like an inexhaustible fountain, may be drawn upon perpetually, without being drained: secret springs will remain in this extensive and complicated science; and succeeding generations will explore their hidden channels, and greatly accele­rate the improvement of the human mind, [Page 15] the progress of virtue, and happiness of the world: it is an art, a science, on which our being, virtue and happiness so much depend, that it must ever be an object of anxious attention, with thoughtful and af­fectionate parents.

HITHERTO, education has been so con­ducted as to contract the powers of the mind, by directing the current of intelli­gence in a narrow channel: the object of it has been to teach WHAT TO THINK, rather than HOW TO THINK. The end of education, is, to unfold the latent pow­ers of the human mind, direct them to suitable objects, and strengthen them by exercise: it is the art of preparing child­ren for the duties of life. The difficulty in giving a system of education would be comparatively small, if there was a general similarity in the circumstances of men: but these being various, their situations and views vary with them, and occasion many exceptions to general principles, or rules.

IN order to conduct the business prop­erly, it is necessary to distinguish accurate­ly, [Page 16] the exceptions arising from particular cases; and, which lead us to depart from general principles. Here assistance is most needed; and here it is most likely to fail: for the cases are so numerous and complicated, that they fall not within the compass of imagination to conceive, nor of human skill to arrange.

THERE are, indeed, general exceptions and variations, which may be distinguished with greater precision, and less difficulty: those which arise from difference in climate, mode of government, and general circum­stances of society. The systems of educa­tion written in Europe, are too local to be transferred to America: they are generally designed for a style of life, different from that, which it is necessary for the inhabit­ants of the United States to adopt: they do not reach our circumstances, and are not suited to the genius of our govern­ment. We have already suffered much by too great an avidity for British customs and manners: it is now time to become independent in our maxims, principles of [Page 17] education, dress, and manners, as we are in our laws and government. To promote this kind of independence, for which the late revolution opens a glorious theatre, shall be my humble attempt, in the sequel.

YOU will be so good, as to make my respectful compliments to Mrs. —, who, you inform me, is about to place her daughter at the female academy: the design, I think, is laudable▪ for I am con­fident she [...]ll continue to exercise her in those domestic employments, which will be useful in every condition and period of life. Much has been said on female edu­cation; and much remains to be said on that subject, and on the dignity and im­portance of the female character. I hope, in the course of these memoirs, to con­tribute something towards rescuing this gem from the state in which the pride or inattention of man has too long kept it; and without which all attempts to improve the mode of education will be vain.

IN my next, I will offer you some thoughts preparatory to the object in [Page 18] view; and, in the mean time, must solicit your candor: for it will not be in my power to observe rigid order, in the course of epistolary writing, on a subject which involves so great a variety of transactions.

LETTER II.

I FELICITATE you, most sincere­ly, my dear Sir, on this auspicious day,^* which exhibits to the world a government, founded in the empire of reason; a con­stitution, which, established in equality and justice, secures the rights of individ­uals, and promises the greatest happiness that can be derived from human institu­tions; committed to gentlemen of tried abilities and integrity, with those at the head of the system, whose fame for patriot­ism and valor will live while the rights of men are dear to them; and whose virtu­ous [Page 19] example will not fail of an happy in­fluence on public opinions, customs and manners.

ENCOURAGED by these auspicious cir­cumstances, I shall proceed to some con­siderations preparatory to my design, with this unpleasant assurance, after all that can be said, that the subject will not be com­prehended by some, and will be unattend­ed to by many: carelessness and ignorance will be the fault of many parents, and the ruin of many children. To address in­struction to the infant mind, and to con­duct that period of education, which may be called the season of impressions, so as to favor the main design of it, requires much prudence and application.

IN America, children are generally reared up in a domestic state, and by their parents: few are put to nurse; fewer still committed to the care of private tutors. In general they are to be brought forward by the fostering hand of education, in those little distinct societies which usually consist of parents, children and servants; [Page 20] all of whom have a reciprocal influence upon each other: here the first dawn of mental, as well as animal life commences. In this mixed society, the mind is to re­ceive its first tints; the models from which it takes first impressions, sen [...]ments, and maxims, are always present▪ in this situ­ation, education is to be carried on through the several stages of infancy, childhood, and youth, unto mature age. Here the sparks of genius are fanned or extinguished; the disposition, like the flowing current, takes its course; and hab­its are formed, which are carried into life.

NOT only the order and tranquillity of the domestic state; but of society, depend on what passes here.

THOSE who are accustomed, in their youth, to the restraints of domestic disci­pline, will invariably make peaceable and worthy members of society: their habits are suited to the government of the com­monwealth, to whose laws they will cheer­fully yield obedience: and that parent who leaves a family of children, early [Page 21] trained to knowledge and virtue, be­queaths to his country an inestimable legacy. But, if the heart is not formed to virtuous principles, while under the tu­telage of parents, they will remain stran­gers to virtue and order: accustomed to th [...] unrestrained indulgence of passion at ho [...]e, they will not patiently submit to the restraints of government abroad. From such undis [...]lined members, arise domestic animosities, discord between neighbors, opposition to lawful authority, and dis­turbances in society: [...] orde [...] that pas­sions, so pregnant with mischief, be re­strained, and the public [...]uillity pre­served, it is necessary that [...] proper system of domestic education be established.— What that method is, which promises most success, remains a question: but it is nec­essary that all maxims should be brought to the test of experiment.

FACTS are, not only stubborn things, but afford the most instructive lessons; and, though they do not always shew us the reason of things, yet they shew us [Page 22] things themselves. To elucidate the sub­ject, in question, most effectually, I will present you with a domestic portrait, taken from the life; which will have all the ad­vantage of instruction, and force of exam­ple. As the family, whose memoirs I shall essay to write, afforded one of the most pleasing pictures in human life; so it is my real wish, that the portrait may not do them injustice: but to delineate every fea­ture, and give the finer touches of native expression, would require an abler artist than

LETTER III.

BEFORE I name the family I have in view, it may not be amiss to inquire in­to the nature of domestic society, and the obligations which reciprocally bind each to the other. As they live together in the most compact manner, in these distinct societies, their mutual happiness, as well as the progress of education, depends on [Page 23] what passes there. It is necessary, there­fore, to consider the principles, on which this miniature of society and government is founded; and to become acquainted with the rights and duties of the several departments of it. A more full illustra­tion of this will take place in the progress of the business before us.

WHEN the great Parent of the Universe brought Eve to the father of mankind, he doubtless had the happiness of both parties equally in view; and to perfect their con­dition as social beings, united them in the nearest compact for life. Why, then, are not the married more generally happy? Because their hearts do not beat in unison; they have separate pleasures, opposite dis­positions; and from trifling differences, which prudence should lead them to ac­commodate, proceed coldness and reserve: feuds and animosities succeed; domestic enjoyment is forever banished; and, the once peaceful dwelling, is turned into a scene of perpetual hostilities.

[Page 24]IT is, therefore, indispensably necessary for persons, who are about to unite in these sacred bonds, to consider in what respect they are qualified to render mutual esteem lasting, and the married state happy. Riches and beauty may, for a while, strengthen the tie; and good sense render it more permanent: but mutual felicity cannot be secure, without a similarity of temper and disposition, a reciprocity of affection and sentiment; a "thought meeting thought," a "will preventing will." Parental affection can only have a genuine and permanent existence, where there is a union of hearts. "The passions of those who may be differently united, are, it is true, owing to the principles of nature; but misdirected, or violently forced into unfortunate circumstances. They are, like sparks of heavenly fire, designed to animate and bless; but falling on improper materials, they waste or in­jure the property of mankind." Parental affection, in minds united by low interests, by ambition or intrigue, but not congenial, [Page 25] may be tender sometimes, but not uniform in its operations.

THIS affection, virtuously founded, hav­ing the complicated charm and enchant­ment of that undefinable union which blends excellent minds, is among the most glowing in all nature; and leads parents to regard a child's interest in preference to their own. On this affection, is found­ed that parental authority, which, in its nature, is absolute: but great prudence is requisite in the exercise of it: the seat of this empire, should be in the affections, and not over the person.

TO the mother, nature has committed a most important trust; the education of girls wholly, and of boys, until they be­come proper subjects for the regular dis­cipline of the father; on whom the wis­dom of God, and the consent of all ages, have devolved the protection and govern­ment of this little community. He is formed by nature for the arduous business of providing for his household; and he is worse than an infidel who neglects it. [Page 26] His social connexion, conjugal ties, and parental affection, combine to dispose and excite him to seek and promote the good of the whole.

THE calls of depraved appetite, have sometimes precipitated worthless men into gratifications inconsistent with their in­come; and led them to neglect their families. The most fatal consequences have followed from such conduct: the minds of children left uncultivated, with examples of vice continually before them, have grown up, like those evil weeds that infest the neglected soil, and become the pest of society. Some, indeed, under all these disadvantages, have, by the strength of genius, and the goodness of their dispo­sition, gained their proper rank in the world; but many have fallen among the splendid ruins of human nature, and been forever lost to the world.

BUT no man of reflection, or of benev­olence, will thus abandon those he has chosen for his inmates, or whom nature has committed to his care. He will uni­formly [Page 27] exemplify before them, whatever he would have them practice; and study to promote the ease and convenience of all his household. He will never appear as an arbitrary ruler over them; but as an affectionate and benevolent patron. In­fluenced by the gentle spirit of Christian­ity, he will banish from his breast all mo­roseness and peevishness which would em­bitter his own life, and render his family unhappy. Inspired with a soft and cheer­ful temper, the mildness and equity of his government will meet every expression of filial affection, and respect in return.

HOW pleasing the scene!—a good man assisting with soft language of conjugal af­fection, the cares of his dear partner; pa­rental fondness swimming in his eyes; gentle and kind to his servants; doing a thousand offices of tenderness, which en­dear him to his little flock; and smiling on all around. This, surely, is the abode of tranquillity; content and cheerfulness are their inmates! Here, the rudiments of knowledge and virtue are first planted. [Page 28] Here, under the nurturing beams of do­mestic education, the mind, like the open­ing blossom, is gradually expanding and maturing, until it yields solid and delicious fruit.—Of this, the family to which I promised to introduce you, affords a pleas­ing specimen.

LETTER IV.

ON the margin of one of those large and beautiful rivers which intersect the great continent of North America, and, winding its way through a vast extent of territory, empties into the Atlantic ocean, stood the ancient Bloomsgrove mansion; more distinguished by the virtues of its inhabitants, than the magnificence of its appearance. Indeed, it would be impos­sible to do justice to its owners, or fully to describe the felicity of this domestic re­treat. I shall only aim at some leading traits of their domestic history. If, by doing this in a plain, simple narration of facts, with such incidental remarks and [Page 29] hints on domestic education as shall occur, I excite either envy or emulation, I shall conclude the portrait has some merit: for the shafts of envy are always directed up­ward, and emulation presupposes some­thing worthy of imitation.

PERMIT me, sir, to conduct you into this enchanting mansion, where dwell the happy pair, whose hearts are inseparably joined in conjugal affection. To attempt a description of their situation and enjoy­ments, by allusions to magnificent build­ings, splendid equipage, and a numerous train of servile attendants, would be to les­sen their merit, and degrade their eleva­tion of mind. To give a romantic pic­ture of the beauty and pleasantness of this healthful situation, would be doing injustice to that which is real.

NATURE had done every thing that could be wished, to make it susceptible of the improvement of art, the embellishments of taste, and the culturing hand of industry— qualities which remarkably united in the possessors of this delectable spot. Under [Page 30] the auspices of such advantages, what will not the imagination figure to itself, of beauty, elegance, and taste? How is the eye allured away through opening pros­pects, where it meets a variety of pleasing objects! Now surveying the slow, but ma­jestic movement of the river, which flows down in lengthening sweep and loses itself behind yonder hills; affording a variety of landscapes, which arrest the attention and excite the philosophic speculation! Then, wrapt away to shady groves and spreading lawns, where mingle in romantic concert, the hoarse echo of the distant cascade and the soft response of the purling stream. But we need not the aid of the imagination to enrich or decorate the scene: real en­joyments can receive no accession from the regions of fancy.

SITUATED on the summit of the rising ground, which ascends from the western bank, and falling south, the commodious, and decently elegant mansion, command­ed an extensive and beautifully variegated prospect. On this favored spot, the rosy [Page 31] morn first shed its placid rays; and soft zephyrs breathed health to its inhabitants.

THE lowing herd, the prating fowl, and tuneful birds, all conspire to enliven the rural scene. The garden, interspresed with trees, bending with delicious fruit, invites to walk; the cooling arbor, to sit in social glee and inhale the fresh fra­grance which arises from the floweret's bloom; and, while the eye was pleased with the beauty and variety, the taste was gratified by the vegetable productions of this spacious garden.

THE society, of this enlightened and amiable pair, invited many a visiter, both from the country and the city. Here, all of every class, met a polite and hospitable [Page 32] reception. Persons of the several learned professions, found entertainment in their society, and improved by an acquaint­ance with them: and men of different re­ligious persuasions, forgetting distinction of sect, united in friendly sort, and, warm­ed with social fire, partook the liberal joy.

BUT, you ask, whence sprang these par­agons of domestic virtue and happiness? what parents were so happy as to give them birth? Be not too curious, my friend; in my next I will give all the in­formation necessary to our purpose. A­propos—of curiosity; there is a strange propensity in many to inquire into the dark and inexplicable part of subjects; which are always least useful. This dis­position leads them to doubt upon every subject, and cavil at every proposition. I am sorry to say, our friend — is verging upon this scepticism: He scarcely believes any thing, because he cannot comprehend every thing. Shall we reject the light be­cause our organs of vision are not fitted to see objects in the dark?

[Page 33]P. S. I WILL advertise you of one cir­cumstance which cannot attend these me­moirs, and which would be necessary to recommend them to vain and empty minds; but with the wise and considerate, would avail nothing. They cannot grat­ify the ear with pompous titles; nor daz­zle the eye with gilded sceneries. They cannot accommodate you with the disqui­sitions of philosophy or logic; but may amuse you with a variety of childish mat­ter. I shall not introduce you into pal­aces, courts, or parks; nor, into the com­pany of MY LORD, or MY LADY; but, in the plain style of republicanism, to an ac­quaintance with Mr. and Mrs. —, who dwell in houses, made for covering and convenience; where, if you should not be served with so many dainties for the palate, you will have wholesome food for the mind.

LETTER V.

NOT far distant, westward, stands an inland town of respectable size. In the region of this settlement, lived the worthy parents of Mr. and Mrs. Blooms­grove: the one a magistrate of great in­tegrity, and activity in the discharge of his office. He was literally "a terror to evil doers and a praise to those who did well." The other, though a gentleman of public education, was a FARMER of great indus­try, economy, and virtue; equally famed for generosity and beneficence. Both were patrons of the poor; promoters of knowledge and useful arts among all classes of people. They were, especially, atten­tive to the establishment of schools for the benefit of the children of the poor as well as the rich; and by these means, learning was generally diffused; the youth were not only preserved from the destructive effects of idleness and ignorance, but trained to knowledge, industry, and vir­tuous habits.

[Page 35]THE houses of these worthy gentlemen, presented an interesting picture of order and decorum: the education of their chil­dren had been an object of constant at­tention; and the effects of it amply re­warded all their endeavours.

IT, fortunately, happened that the eld­est child of one of those families was a daughter; that of the other a son: their education was similar, as it respected the principles of virtue, or the economy of life. They were sent abroad to complete their education, and give a polish to their manners; but were not kept abroad so long as to lose their knowledge, or relish for domestic concerns; or to acquire a false taste, or romantic ideas. An early cultivation of the moral qualities of the heart, and a taste for acquiring useful knowledge, seasonably infused, afforded them a balance against the seductions of vice and the illusions of fancy.— I am agreeably interrupted by the arrival of your friend —, whose tarry in this town will be so short, that he will scarcely [Page 36] give me opportunity to shew him how much I honor your letter of introduc­tion.

AS the post goes in a few minutes, I have only time to assure you of the esteem and affection with which

LETTER VI.

THE similarity in their age and ed­ucation, formed a congeniality of temper and sentiment, on which rest mutual es­teem and confidence: their hearts beat in unison, and accorded to every thing benevolent and good. They inherited the good qualities of their parents, and improved on their virtues. Their habits being fixed on the same principles and by similar causes, they conceived an early at­tachment to each other; which, being founded on mutual esteem, grew by degrees into an ardent affection, and was followed by their marriage on the evening of the 27th of October, in the year —. Now [Page 37] had the rolling seasons crowned the ex­pectations of the husbandman, and amply rewarded all his toil: prolific nature had poured a profusion of her delicious fruits into the lap of industry, gladdening every heart with a portion of her goods. Such was the flattering season of their nuptials— joy sparkled in every eye, at beholding the union of the happy pair; in whom they anticipated the virtues of their excellent ancestors.

THEY were not disappointed in their expectations: like the opening flower, that gradually unfolds to the sun, their virtues expanded on every occasion, and came forth to view. The incidents of life, fell in train, so as to strike out the latent qualities of the heart, and produce great and worthy actions. Education too often contracts the affections to the narrow cir­cle of kindred and family connexions: but this is a degree of selfishness unknown to generous minds. But, theirs had been conducted on so liberal a plan, that, while they were attached to their connexions, their genial influence extended to all around them.

[Page 38]EDUCATION, properly managed, has reference to every relation in life: it teaches to think and act on a large scale; and to discharge the duties of every rela­tion and circumstance in life with fidelity. The transition, of a well educated person, from filial piety to conjugal affection and parental tenderness; to kind master, or mistress; to good neighbour, faithful friend, obedient subject, and good mem­ber of society; is natural and easy. Into all these shapes, will that philanthrophy, which such an education inspires, trans­form itself, as occasion requires. Indeed, love, like the law of attraction, operates more forcibly upon those who are nearly allied to us by the ties of nature, than those at a distance, or those with whom we have no connexion. This is a very happy cir­cumstance in the constitution of things; otherwise our social affections would be lost amidst the multiplicity of objects, without being able to fix on any. These affections are now directed first to those, with whom, on all accounts, we are under [Page 39] the stronges [...] obligations to live in h [...]mo­ny: from these, they extend to remoter circles; still expanding to all mankind.

NOT only their friends and neighbors, but others at a distance from this region of hospitality, felt the effects of their benefi­cence. Here, the child of want and dis­tress never sued for relief in vain; no [...] was insult or unkindness ever added to af­fliction. Here, the widow's heart was made to sing for joy; and the blessing of many ready to perish came upon them. The light of their domestic virtues in­creased with their years, and with the in­crease of their fortune. Industry and her handmaid, economy, added to the sources of beneficence; and the accessions of wealth were considered as fresh obligations to charity.

MR. Bloomsgrove would have been hap­py to have confined himself to his farm and domestic concerns; but his talents were too conspicuous to pass long unno­ticed. He early discovered marks of brilliant genius; and shewed he had a soul [Page 40] formed for noble deeds. The public good demanded the exertion of his talents: he yielded to the solicitations of his friends; and served his country, in various depart­ments, with great dignity and reputation.

BUT, as domestic enjoyments were his peculiar delight, (and this is the particular trait of his character, with which we are at present concerned) he returned, with ea­gerness, from the noise and bustle of pub­lic, to the calmer scenes, of domestic life. Here, he was always sure to meet a friend­ly reception from his amiable wife, and the two children which kind heaven had committed to his care.

LETTER VII.

THE love of domestic retirement, for which Mr. Bloomsgrove was remark­able, and the open hearted reception he always met from his family, shew the im­portance of mutual attentions and assidui­ties to please in domestic society: and af­ford a monitory lecture to those husbands [Page 41] and wives, who treat each other with neg­lect and indifference; or, do not study to render themselves mutually agreeable.

A FRENCH lady, who, by her conduct towards her husband, had driven him to seek enjoyment abroad, makes the follow­ing curious declaration. "Yes, unhappy I am; I know all my follies, all my cap­rices; I have passed fourteen years, with­out reflecting one moment on the advan­tages, which might have resulted from mak­ing a friend of my husband. It is scarce eighteen months since I began to think about it; since which time I have seen with other eyes; or, to express myself better, have observed him, listened to him; and have learned, with inexpressible sur­prise, that if I had not loved him before, it was merely from inattention, and be­cause I was taken up with other things."

OF all the wretched conditions, to which man is liable to be reduced, none are so much to be dreaded, as that of having, for enemies, those of his own house: other causes of disquietude, he may escape; but [Page 42] with these he is destined to live in an in­timacy, which must make him perpetually miserable. That, which should be his se­cure retreat from vexations abroad, is be­come the principal source of uneasiness. But, as long as a man's house affords him a sanctuary from the disappointments and vexations of the world, he will retire to it, as to a castle of defence and security, a­gainst the inroads of all his foes. Of all the animosities to which the human pas­sions expose us, those of a domestic nature are most to be dreaded, because they wound the tenderest feelings of human na­ture. It has been justly observed, "there are two things that affect the heart of every ingenuous man most deeply, viz. good na­tured and generous offices from those, to whom we have been injurious; and an ill natured, unkind treatment from those to whom we have been kind and affectionate. As to the former, we can bear their hatred, because we have deserved it; but we can­not bear their love, it quite confounds and overcomes us: and as to the latter, it is [Page 43] certain we can endure the utmost rancor and malice of others, better than the least coldness and indifference from those, whom we have made it our constant en­deavor to please."

WHATEVER comes from our nearest friends, as an expression of love, we re­ceive as a substantial obligation; and feel the most delicate touches of pleasure from the smiles of friendship: but neglect and unkindness, from nearest friends, blast ev­ery joy, and give the most sensible pain. To be always sure of that frank and cheer­ful reception at home, of which Mr. Bloomsgrove never failed; to be united with those, to whom we may discharge the fulness of the soul, unburden our cares, and share our joys, must be an unfailing source of domestic peace and pleasure: for sor­row, like a stream, grows weaker by being divided; and joy, like light, increases and brightens by being communicated.

MR. Bloomsgrove, ever studious of the happiness of his family, was careful to car­ry more of those attentions and civilities [Page 44] into his own house, which he observed a­broad, than is usual. There would be little occasion for domestic strife, if men were as solicitous to please at home as they are, when abroad. Whatever our do­mestic character may be, we choose to appear in the most favorable light before the public: On the public theatre, we appear in the most advantageous attitude; we wish the esteem of others, and endeav­or to gain their respect by our dress, atten­tions, and address. Behind the scene, we are in a dishabille: here our true charac­ter appears: our domestic behavior is the proper test of our virtue and good nature; for our good or ill breeding is chiefly seen abroad; our good or ill nature at home.

IN a family, there are continual oppor­tunities for those little acts of civility and good humor, which, though trifling in themselves, are great in their conse­quences. As a little spark kindles a great fire, so virtues of the first magnitude spring from these small beginnings. Our be­nevolence is seldom called into exercise [Page 45] by any great event, which gives us op­portunity to make a brilliant display of it: but in a domestic state, occasions are often occurring; and, it is in a daily and uninterrupted discharge of the common offices of life, by saying many obliging things, and, if possible, doing more, that the habits of it become fixed and estab­lished. On the other hand, by indulging an occasional fit of ill humor, we prepare the way for another; and so for an habit­ual sourness of temper: and by harbor­ing a spirit of contradiction, we cherish a temper that degrades the character of man; disturbs the common peace, and destroys domestic enjoyment.

IT should be considered, that many weaknesses and imperfections attend us: that the fairest characters are not spotless. Subjected alike to infirmities, we should exercise mutual lenity and forbearance; and construe all doubtful actions in the most favorable point of light. It is a truth, I believe, verified by common ob­servation; that those who have the most [Page 46] foibles and faults of their own, are most im­patient with those of others: they are soon­est provoked and hardest to be reclaimed. But he, who desires the candor of others toward himself, must learn to exercise the same gentle spirit towards them.

IF you recollect that domestic educa­tion is carried on by example as well as instruction, you will at once see that har­mony between the heads of the family is necessary; and, therefore, that these ob­servations are not out of place.

LETTER VIII.

IN a family, where the heads acted in concert, as if informed by one soul; a­dopting each other's cares, uniting their friendly beams, and jointly promoting the common happiness; the education of children was comparatively light and easy. Such was the advantage enjoyed in the Bloomsgrove family. No sooner was the important trust of children committed to [Page 47] them, than they consulted upon the best method of educating their charge. They found it was in vain to read the systems of education then extant: little else could be collected from them, than general prin­ciples for preserving health, and teaching them letters, and figures. They were suited to a distant meridian; and had ref­erence, either to the management of the children of nobility, or to the public edu­cation of young gentlemen destined to one or other of the learned professions. None of them extended to the culture of the heart,^* and that domestic education which lays the foundation of virtue, and is most useful in training children to or­der.

KNOWLEDGE may be acquired at schools and under preceptors; but virtu­ous principles are of incomparably more worth than mere science. The culture of the heart, and exercising children to virtu­ous [Page 48] habits, falls chiefly to parents, and especially, to mothers. Avoiding, there­fore, the track marked out in any system, they had recourse to the intimations of nature; to the state of society, govern­ment, and manners in their own country. They considered education as an appren­ticeship for the employments of life; and that to be qualified for those employments, was an object of the highest importance: that, to prepare them to discharge the offices of good husbands and wives; good parents; dutiful children; affectionate relations and friends; useful members of communities; and benevolent citizens of the world; was the province, and the in­dispensable duty of parents. The prin­ciples of these duties are similar in all men; and the measures to be taken with all children, to render them moral agents, are similar. Those which were adopted in the Bloomsgrove family, were proved to be most judicious by the success which accompanied them.

[Page 49]THEY considered, that the qualifications necessary to render domestic connexions happy, were, a heart susceptible of deep impressions; a mind possessed of a lively discernment of merit; a sense of honor, and delicacy of moral taste, which would prevent their sacrificing to appetite, what should be yielded only to affectionate ten­derness and friendship; an attachment to truth and fidelity; with a fortitude so strong and firm, as would carry them through every toil and danger, rather than violate deliberate engagements. They were convinced that an education which had these important objects in view, could not be conducted so much by precept, as by exercises alluding to those situations.

"THE use and abuse of power; the union of real tenderness and judgment; the difference of genuine prudence or a desire of happiness, and the passions of av­arice or ambition; the wisdom and good­ness requisite in conducting a family to be a blessing, and not a nuisance or a curse: these cannot come by chance; the mind [Page 50] is apt to revolt, if enjoined with severity to adopt them; and the likely method to obtain our purpose, is by numerous and judicious experiments, blended with the incidents of our family, and calculated to produce conviction and habit.

"THE duties and obligations of chil­dren; of brothers and sisters; of friends; of magistrates and subjects; and of men to each other in all variations of situation, climate, and government:—these are in­cumbent on all men, and the business of education should be, not merely to furnish the memory with arbitrary maxims, but to qualify us for them, by occurrences and incidents." Thus reasoned Mr. Blooms­grove. And this is the method pointed out by reason, philosophy, and the com­mon usage, in particular cases: youth, for instance, when qualifying for any partic­ular occupation or employment, are not taught the art by dry lesson or precepts; but are, for a long time, exercised in the practical branches of the employment to which they are destined.

[Page 51]AS the moral character grows out of the intellectual, so it is necessary that the de­sire of knowledge be directed and stimu­lated; and that curiosity be guided to proper objects of inquiry, but never checked by severity, or perverted by indiscretion: in the former case, an im­portant faculty will be disappointed in its exertions; in the latter, habits of creduli­ty and superstition may become fixed, which cannot be removed; and in both cases, infantile improvements will be ob­structed.

IT has been ingeniously observed that, "the great and general qualities, which constitute all the virtues we can practise, are few, simple, and to be taught in the early years of infancy. These are, atten­tion to the names, properties, and rela­tions of things; and a desire thoroughly to understand them: the use of knowledge in providing for our wants, conferring benefits, and doing services: and the nec­essary effects of reciprocal benefits, in producing attachments or affections; the [Page 52] the general ingredients of all the vir­tues."

IN this respect the parents of Osander and Rozella (for so we shall call them) followed Rousseau's maxim, but not his method; they were constantly pouring instruction into their minds. His Emile is not to be taught any thing until twelve years of age, and yet he spends his whole time in giving him useful lessons; assist­ing the growing genius, and communicat­ing the materials which his own experi­ence had collected. Though he is to learn nothing from books or schools, yet he is to have the benefit of all the knowl­edge with which a whole life, of study and observation, had furnished a learned pre­ceptor.—He must be a blockhead indeed who does not improve in such a school!

BUT every man, to whom the care of children is committed, is not a Rousseau, nor is every child an Emilius or a Sophia: neither are we aerial beings, that we should subsist on sentimental diet: application to labor, or some kind of employment, is [Page 53] NECESSARY for most people, and PROPER for all. It is humiliating, I confess, that we are obliged to spend so great a part of time in procuring the means of supplying the perpetual wants of a body we must soon throw away: but, degrading as it may seem, it is unavoidable; and it is the more necessary, as the organs of this cor­ruptible mass, are the only vehicles of the intelligence within. To keep those organs in repair is one part of education. At­tention to this, and to the discharge of the social offices, will be an effectual bar against parents having their children al­ways in their sight: and it is impossible to say what impressions they may receive from the object then before them.

WE must take children as they are, en­dued with a variety of humors, disposi­tions, and propensities; and endeavor to make them what we wish them to be; consider the circumstances which actually surround them, and not figure to ourselves an imaginary situation, in which we might suppose education could be carried on to [Page 54] advantage. Fine spun theories may amuse the vivid imagination; but, it is practice only that makes perfect; and vain are all the hopes of theory, when unsupported by experiment▪ Whoever will be at the pains to cast his eye on the world, and ob­serve the d [...]fference which marks the char­acters of men, and trace this difference up to its source, will at once see the import­ance and advantage of a regular education from infancy.

THE success of education depends on the steps which are taken in the early stage of life, before any bad impressions are made. Numerous are the avenues to the human heart. Easy of access, and un­veiled by disguise, it admits the images which first offer themselves; and these images are not easily effaced. Too early an attention, therefore, cannot be paid to the case of those helpless creatures who are committed to the mercy of parents, unconscious of their own condition, and of the effect the impressions then made will have upon their future character and [Page 55] happiness. Fully convinced of this, the parents of Osander and Rozella adopted measures of treatment accordingly; as we shall go on to relate in our next.

LETTER IX.

AGREEABLY to your request, my dear sir, I will now give you an epit­ome of their method of proceeding with the two promising children: and then follow them step by step through the sev­eral stages of education from birth to ma­ture age.

AS parents are to be the models, upon which children are to form their temper and manners, so they should understand what they would have their children ac­quainted with; and be themselves what they wish their children to be. In their parents, Osander and Rozella saw the fair form of virtue in its most pleasing atti­tude: their example acted in concert with their counsel, and seldom failed of its proper effect. They were careful to ac­quire [Page 56] an entire authority over their child­ren, which they continued to exercise without severity, or having recourse to any violence. The propriety of this step will appear, if we consider that reason, in children, is feeble even after i [...] [...]egins to exert itself, and that parental authority is the substitute which nature has provided for the period of impressions:—"and, as no work of God is left imperfect, children are directed by instinct to obey their pa­rents; and if they be not unkindly treat­ed, their obedience is not only voluntary, but affectionate. This is not a picture of imagination: every one who has given attention to the infant state, will bear wit­ness, that a child clings to its mother, and is fonder of her than of all the world be­sides. By this admirable plan, children who have but little reason, are commonly better governed, than adult persons who possess a considerable share of it; the former are entirely obsequious to the rea­son of another; the latter, not always to their own." From the mild and gentle, [Page 57] but firm and steady exercise of this au­thority, many other advantages flow, be­sides that instruction which may be more easily conveyed to the mind. It is an ex­cellent preparative for social life; and for that self command, which we have occa­sion frequently to exercise through every part of life.

THERE is a false tenderness, which pre­vents many parents from exercising that authority over their children which their humors require, lest it should give them pain: but they consider not that they are sacrificing the happiness of their offspring, in the future part of life, to save themselves a few moments present pain. But such parents do not obtain the end they aim at: for the humors and caprices of children increase by indulgence: and, being tol­erated in children, they become their own tormentors, and deprive their parents of that quiet and peace which they did not choose to have disturbed by seasonably correcting their childish error.

[Page 58]IT was the happy lot of these children to be under the direction of wise and vir­tuous parents, who corrected their errors by removing their causes: and by observ­ing and adjusting their little deviations in season, put it into their power to enjoy a much greater degree of happiness than others; "while the essential principles of future excellence were taking root in their minds." Sensible of all these advantages, they failed not to allure their children to obedience, by all those endearing methods which render it as agreeable as it is useful.

THIS foundation being well laid, no ef­fort was wanting to erect the superstruc­ture. They were careful to remove all bad examples from their sight: and con­sequently, were cautious whom they ad­mitted into their family. The assiduity of parents, to educate their children, will be lost without an attention to this cir­cumstance: the advice and example of a subtle and vicious servant will do more towards deluding children to devious courses, than all the counsel and re­monstrance [Page 59] of parents can do to the contrary.

THESE obstructions to domestic educa­tion being out of the way; and the parent­al authority established, they taught their children a right deportment to them­selves; to each other; and to all other members of the family; and exercised them in the practical branches of the du­ties they taught. They were habituated, from infancy, to observe the sabbath as a day devoted to God, and serious purposes; and to attend public worship, as the best school of good manners, as well as the nursery of religious principles. They were not only taught the principles of benevolence and charity to men; of ten­derness and compassion to insects and an­imals, but trained to practise upon those principles. Their curiosity was directed to proper objects, and generally gratified. As they advanced in years, their parents endeavored to lead their minds up to God; to view him as a being who had no beginning, and will have no end; possess­ed [Page 60] of all power; perfectly wise, and in­finitely good: as a being who is every where present, and never changes his na­ture, or disposition; who governs all things, and is peculiarly pleased with the pious and good.

AS soon as they were capable of distin­guishing between virtue and vice, the lat­ter was presented to the mind in all its odious colors; the former, in the most pleasing light. Truth and integrity, be­ing essential to every good character, and the foundation of every other virtue, they were careful to represent fraud, falsehood, and deceit in all their deformities: and they had the pleasure of noticing an in­stance of frankness in Osander, at the age of twelve, which did him honor; while it afforded his parents the most heartfelt sat­isfaction. At a neighbor's, on a visit with his mamma and sister, he happened to re­main in the house while the company were walking in the garden: being alone, he began to play with a tennis ball which he had in his pocket: it accidentally fell [Page 61] upon a pile of china cups, and, by over­setting them, broke a number: but, as he was alone in the room, and had not been missed by the company, he was not in danger of being suspected; but his gen­erous soul disdained to have others suffer for his faults: he frankly informed his mamma of the accident, and desired her to inform Mrs. —, the lady of the house, lest some person should be wrong­fully accused. Sensible that a mind so open and candid would be exposed to the seductions of the vicious, unless guarded by the principles, and exercised in the habits of virtue, they carried a watchful eye over his increasing years.

IN the progress of these memoirs, we shall have occasion to speak of several in­stances of frankness and generosity in Ro­zella: at present I shall only observe, that she had great sensibility; was possessed of a mild temper, and, for a child, had a good understanding: a little pertness, however, appeared sometimes. This gave her mamma great uneasiness, especially as [Page 62] it had discovered itself in a few instances, by a degree of imperiousness towards ser­vants; for Mrs. Bloomsgrove entertained a most delicate sense of the rights of hu­man nature; and the greatest tenderness towards servants, and all persons of infe­rior circumstances. To check every de­gree of this temper, which, though com­mon with children, is extremely disgust­ing in adult people, she employed her con­stant efforts: and i [...] order to render them successful, she kept her little daughter much under her own eye; and, by steady management, in time, cured her of the disease.

A CHILD possessed of this temper to a high degree, will make itself amends for a temporary restraint and submission, in the presence of the parent, by being perverse to servants and impertinent to playmates, when out of sight. The more submissive it is when only occasionally with the pa­rent, the more untractable it will be with others: and then, instead of being cured of one vice, it becomes guilty of another. [Page 63] The mildness which the child shews in the parent's presence, is only the effect of submission, or temporary restraint, and in time will become hypocrisy and deceit. It is necessary, therefore, the parental eye be over it until reason, time, and habit, shall have wrought the cure, by giving a new current to the disposition.

MRS. Bloomsgrove early gave a check to the passion for dress which appears in fe­males, by representing to her the folly of a gaudy dress, and the greater neatness of a plain modest apparel. The female mind is often rendered vain by a profusion of external ornaments in childhood. An­other instance of the prudent management of Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove, was, their patiently waiting the progress of nature, to mature their children for the stage of ac­tion. Parents who have been ambitious of pushing their children forward sooner than nature had prepared the way, have had reason to regret their folly: children, brought forward to public view before the judgment has had opportunity to form, [Page 64] frequently mortify their parents by indis­cretions, from which those are saved who wait the progress, and follow the intima­tions of nature.

AS every part of the human character is formed by habit, and habit by practical exercises, they wisely determined to ac­custom their children to diligence and in­dustry; with such intervals of amusement, as were necessary for health, cheerfulness, and vigor. Their amusements, too, were so contrived, as to six habits of industry and promote the knowledge of business, suited to their respective sex: our young master is furnished with a little spade and other tools suited to his age, that he may cultivate a spot in the garden for himself; in dressing this he vies with the gardener. While he is thus amusing himself, he is acquiring habits of industry and some knowledge of agriculture.

ROZELLA, besides making and dressing her doll, and other female amusements, was furnished with a little bed in the gar­den; this she dressed with her own hand, [Page 65] which vied with the lily in whiteness: she often visited her flowery; and watched, with increasing delight, the opening tulip, the expanding rose, the blushing violet, the unfading amaranth, and the various flowers which adorned her knot. This amusement combined exercise and indus­try, while it contributed to health, which bloomed in her prominent cheeks.

ALL amusements, kept within proper bounds, contribute to promote the design of education; for such is the connexion between bodily organs and intellectual operations, that the vigor of the latter de­pends on the tone of the former. But when they can be so contrived, as to effect these purposes, and exercise children in useful habits also, it must be a combination worthy of the attention of parents and preceptors.

ADIEU, my dear sir; I have given you the outlines of a portrait, which I shall en­deavor to fill up as I have leisure.

LETTER X.

ALREADY has it been observed, and sure I am you will not contest the truth of it, that first impressions are deep­est and most durable; and that the hap­piness of human life, depends much on the manner of our entering on the great theatre of the world. It is equally true, that the prosperity of the domestic state is determined by the manner of its com­mencement: a full conviction of our en­tire dependence on the providence of God; a determination to discharge all the relative duties of life, as a dictate of na­ture and a duty of moral obligation, are qualities requisite to the security of do­mestic enjoyment.

THOSE who have neither tried this ex­pedient, nor attended to the connexion between the natural and moral world; nor to the influence of piety on outward pros­perity, and especially on our domestic con­dition, may laugh at the idea. But do not those very persons wish to seek their [Page 67] safety under the banner of religion, as the only sanctuary in times of trouble; as the only source of comfort under the disap­pointments of life? Impious men can look up to no protector in the time of trouble, while good men commit themselves, with trust and hope, to the care of heaven. "The human mind, naturally feeble, is made to feel all its own weakness by the measure of adversity. Dejected with evils which overpower its strength, it relies no longer on itself. It casts every where around a wishing, exploring eye, for some shelter to screen, some power to uphold it; and if, when abandoned by the world, it can find nothing to which it can fly in the room of the world, its state is truly forlorn. Now whither should the vicious, in this situation, turn for aid? After having con­tended with the streams of adverse fortune till their spirits are exhausted, gladly would they retreat at last to the sanctuary of re­ligion."

THIS provides a source of comfort for the mind in the gloomy shades of solitude, [Page 68] or the painful hour of adversity; the dis­tress of sickness, or the infirmities of age. In those periods and conditions, when de­jection and horror oppress and affright the vicious, the man of piety enjoys compo­sure of mind: he has within himself a re­source, which, though it may be interrupt­ed, can never fail him; and, indeed, it is often the case, that as the world lowers and darkens before him, the light that is within him grows brighter; his hopes re­new their strength; his desires rise to nobler objects; his religion transports him into regions new and boundless, where the most enchanting prospects open to view; and the surrounding objects are suited to alleviate the burdens of life, to scatter its gloom, and inspire the heart with joy in­effable.

THE early habits of piety had produced the happiest effects upon the temper and disposition of Mr. Bloomsgrove, and his amiable consort, and qualified them in the best manner for the part they had to act in domestic life. These habits restrain [Page 69] those passions which are the principal oc­casion of discord, and meliorate the tem­per, while they elevate the mind above low attachment and sordid gratifications. Piety unites in one point of view, the smiling aspect, both of the powers above and the objects below. It reflects a sun­shine from heaven upon the prosperity of the world. Where the heads of families are thus holden together by the ties of re­ligion, the gentle influence of it will be felt through every branch of the family. The voice of peace, the simple song of cheerfulness and content, will be heard in that dwelling.

OF so much consequence it is, that we lay the foundation of domestic prosperity and happiness, deep and firm. I have therefore dwelt the longer upon this, which was a distinguishing part of the character of those whose domestic me­moirs I am giving.

LETTER XI.

THE following story of an amiable youth, who, on embarking upon the the­atre of life, committed himself to the care, guidance, and protection of divine provi­dence, I think worthy a place in these memoirs.

THE fact (for it is not a fiction) is re­corded on the faithful pages of ancient authentic history. He was encouraged by a dream, which seemed to portend great future prosperity to himself, and the family he was about to form. It had such an effect on his mind, that he im­mediately resolved never to forsake that being who had appeared, at so early a pe­riod, to favor his domesticating views;— for you will observe, he was going in quest of a wise;—but, that he would ac­knowledge him in all his ways. Apro­pos—our worthy friend — has found a companion nearer home. I cannot for­bear to mention it in this place, as you will feel so deeply interested in the event. [Page 71] Yes, believe me, my friend, he is this very evening to call the lovely Eliza, HIS.

ADIEU—I am this moment called to the celebration of the nuptials. If I have time, I will add a line after my return.

P. S. IT is done: they are no longer twain, but one flesh: a more pleasing sight perhaps you never saw: the fair E­liza blushing consent to the most solemn vows; while a pleasing confusion added new graces to her glowing bridegroom. They have a most flattering prospect be­fore them. His uncommon industry, and her knowledge of domestic economy, qual­ify them in the best manner for living; and promise fair to make them prosperous and happy.

LETTER XII.

I AM no visionary; nor do I believe in that mystical divinity which finds a spiritual meaning for every remarkable incident. Yet I see no difficulty in ad­mitting, that an all pervading spirit can [Page 72] communicate his mind to men, by means, of which we can have no conception. I cannot conceive any difficulty in the Fa­ther of our spirits having access to our mind in such a manner, as, by a vision or dream, to stamp upon it things necessary for our information or encouragement; and that too by such images, as cannot fail to express their meaning. Of this kind is the justly celebrated dream to which I alluded, and which makes a dis­tinguished figure in the most ancient writings.

I RELATE it with the more pleasure in this place, because those writings were the delightful study of Mr. Bloomsgrove; and he seems to have copied his maxims from the sentiments which the dream in­spired.

IN the ages of simplicity, when rural occupations, and domestic cares and pleas­ures, divided the time and attention of mankind; a pious youth, as ancient story tells, undertook, in obedience to a parent's command, a long journey to seek a dam­sel [Page 73] worthy his espousal. The custom of his father's house required, that all mar­riage alliances should be formed with some collateral branch of his family. The venerable father, fearing lest so promising a youth should be tempted to form a dis­honorable alliance with the tawny daugh­ters of the land, where they then dwelt; hastens his son away to seek a wife among the daughters of his kindred. The piety of the rather interposes its influence, to prevent him from a marriage, where it might have a dangerous tendency on his morals.

THE journey is long and tedious, through a dreary wilderness, where are no accom­modations to refresh the weary traveller, except those which provident nature fur­nishes. But a young man, pursuing the dictates of duty, is always the object of divine patronage; he is never alone. The ever present spirit of wisdom and love is with him, in the hurry of travel­ling; in the silence and slumbers of the night; in the noise of the town, or the [Page 74] solitude of the desert. This ever present and indulgent spirit accompanied our young adventurer, in his long and lonely journey. It fell out on a day as he trav­elled, that he reached a little village, where he determined to lodge, it being about sunset. Whether there was no public inn for the accommodation of travellers, or whether from prudential motives, and ac­cording to the simplicity of the age, he chose it, does not appear: but, by the se­quel, it seems he lodged in the field; where he took a stone for his pillow and laid himself down to sleep. But his im­agination is awake. While soft slumbers sooth all his cares, and hovering angels guard his bed, his active mind is impress­ed with the figure of a ladder, of such a­mazing length, that while one end rested on the earth, the other reached the very heavens and lost itself among the clouds.

ON this visionary ladder, those benevo­lent agents who are supposed to be always attendant on good men, seemed to be con­stantly ascending and descending: this [Page 75] indicated that a constant intercourse was preserved between heaven and earth; and shewed him the favorable influence of piety, in procuring the blessing of heaven upon him, in his individual and domestic state; for he particularly observed that the Lord stood above it. From this ele­vated station, the great Parent of all is rep­resented as addressing the amiable youth, in language of paternal affection, assuring him of his favor and protection; that his present enterprise should be successful; and prosperity crown his future days.

SO clear was the vision, so audible the voice, that he awoke from sleep in a pleas­ing astonishment. And, pouring out the grateful and pious effusions of his soul, he made a solemn vow of fidelity to him, who had appeared to patronize him in his pur­suit; that he would set up his BETHEL, daily pour incense on his domestic altar; and never cease to call on the name of the Lord:—nor were these transactions the illusions of fancy. In the future part of life, the whole was realized, and he lived [Page 76] to bestow his benedictions on his child­ren's children. So much does the hap­piness of life depend on the manner in which we first set out; the connexions we form, and the habits we contract. If we associate ourselves with the virtuous, and especially in the great article of marriage; if we acquire habits of sobriety and good­ness, we may hope that gentle gales of prosperity will waft us over life's vary­ing surface, and safely land us on its ut­most verge: or should not our days be crowned with outward prosperity, we have still the means of domestic tranquil­lity, and a resource within ourselves which never fails.

LETTER XIII.

FROM the short account already given of Mrs. Bloomsgrove, you will eas­ily believe, that in every part of life, she was able to discharge the duties of it with propriety. It would detract from the superior beauties of her mind, to say any [Page 77] thing of the elegance of her person. She is now a wife, with all the charms of the conjugal relation; a mother, with all the tenderness of maternal affection. The dignity of her deportment inspired all a­bout her with respect: the mildness of her temper secured her the most cordial affec­tion of all her acquaintance. In Mrs. Bloomsgrove, modesty happily united with understanding; dignity, with humil­ity; and cheerfulness, with religion.

SHE was well qualified to carry into ef­fect, the design she early formed, of giving sustenance, as well as instruction, to her tender offspring. This was a res­olution propitious to the education of her children; for the foundation of it is laid at the breast: there, the future temper and disposition commences: and this, by reaction, has its influence in producing health, beauty, and cheerfulness; and greatly facilitates the cultivation of moral qualities.

OF all the animals, of which we have any knowledge, man enters into life in the [Page 78] most helpless condition; and is, for a longer term than any, dependent on the care of others. But the God of nature, who always provides means for the sup­port of the most helpless creatures, has, by an admirable contrivance, implanted, in the breast of parents, an instinctive prin­ciple, which prompts them to the care and preservation of their feeble offspring. This principle is connatural to the pa­rent. It is not the effect of reasoning; nor can it easily be eradicated from the human heart.

SOFT and gentle, it operates, in the mother, in a manner perfectly suited to that kind of duty which the first stage of life requires. In the father, it prevails in a way suited to the succeeding stages of childhood and youth. It pushes him to great exertions in providing for the sup­port of his children, and in training them up for usefulness in life. By this instinct, providence has founded in nature, a suf­ficient balance against the fatigues and anxieties of nurturing their young. [Page 79] The soft and tender passions of the moth­er; the strong and robust affections of the father, wonderfully prepare them for the important task which nature has devolved upon them.

THAT education commences with our being, and that the nurse is our first pre­ceptress, were maxims upon which Mrs. Bloomsgrove uniformly practised: and they are as indubitably true, as they are important. What prudent mother then will trust the commencement of the edu­cation of her child in the hands of a mer­cenary nurse; and suffer one, who knows little more than how to yield nourishment to an infant, to be the first preceptress of her son? If we trace education up to its source, we shall find that the quality of food fixes the state of the constitution; that the temper is affected by the same cause, and by the situation in which the infant is first placed; that the objects with which the eyes of an infant are most con­versant, have their influence also on the body and mind. These will have a last­ing [Page 80] effect on the muscles of the face; and therefore, go into the determination of its beauty; on the cheerfulness of the mind, and goodness of the disposition; and con­sequently, have their share in fixing the after propensities to virtue and vice.

THE same reason which Lord Kaimes assigns, that a female should banish all dis­mal thoughts, and preserve herself as calm and cheerful as possible, during her pro­gressive state, holds equally good in the nursing period, viz. Agreeable impress­ions may be made on an infant mind: and, if agreeable, by consequence, disa­greeable ones may be made also. It is then by no means a matter of indifference, what kind of objects, or countenances, are presented to children; or what manage­ment they receive; for the impressions, the habit will be lasting.

I WAS a firm believer in the doctrine of sympathies, and antipathies, till Doctor Moore wrote so learnedly against it: nor am I an infidel yet. He has convinced me that ingenious reasonings may be employed [Page 81] against it, but not of its falsity. Facts are stubborn things. I knew a child, maim­ed exactly in imitation of a servant, who was frequently before the eyes of its mother, during the time of her advance­ment; even his bones were distorted and out of place. This, and numberless other instances of a like nature, I think, prove the truth of the doctrine, be the cause of these phenomena what they may. The little Osander and Rozella, enjoyed what­ever advantages arose from an agreeable assemblage of objects; and came forward into life, with the blessings of health, ge­nius, and good temper: circumstances, which contributed not a little to their en­joyment and usefulness in the world.

IN America there are comparatively few mothers so unnatural, as, of choice, to put their children out to nurse. Some, indeed, there are, who do this from a love of ease, or a fancied superiority to the drudgery of giving sustenance to their helpless offspring, to whom they have giv­en existence. It should be considered, [Page 82] that the obligations between parent and child, are reciprocal; and if neglected by the former, it can hardly be expected that they will be fulfilled by the latter. It was well observed by Rousseau, that the child should love its mother before it is sensible of it as a duty. If the voice of nature is not strengthened by habit and cultivation, it will be silenced in its infan­cy, and the heart will perish, if I may so express myself, before it is born.

LETTER XIV.

THE sentiments, contained in my last, were familiar to Mrs. Bloomsgrove. She had too much goodness of heart, to omit any circumstance of duty. Impell­ed by motives of duty and maternal affec­tion, she sacrificed every personal consid­eration to the care of her helpless charge. Retired from the gay world, and all the pleasures it offers, she studied her own health with more attention than common, that she might communicate to it the best [Page 83] means of support and health. In the midst of her family and friends, she is seen with her playful infant, smiling in her arms. Beautiful and interesting was the sight, to behold her thus fulfilling the first duties of nature. For what she now does for her child, who does not so much as know her, proves what she will be capable of doing one day for him, when she en­joys the happiness of being beloved by him, and when she has assured to herself more right to his tenderness.

THE first seven years of life are a period, of much greater importance, in the busi­ness of education, than is generally imag­ined. Within this period are laid, the foundation of health; the temperament of the body, on which depend the passions and affections of the heart. On this foundation is to rise the fabric of virtue and excellence. So great a part of the management of children, through this stage of it, falls to the lot of mothers, that, during its continuance, I shall have but little occasion to speak of Mr. Blooms­grove. [Page 84] Happy in the entire confidence of her husband, and enjoying all his aid and influence, she took charge of the in­fant days of the children; and being a lady of great judgment, she adopted a sys­tem of her own, and pursued it with per­severing steadiness.

OSANDER was born the twenty fourth day of September following their mar­riage; and Rozella, about two years after him. The difference in their ages was so little, that the same manner of treatment, allowing for difference of sex, soon an­swered for both.

IN my next I will give you some ac­count of her method with them.

N. B. THE want of method in training up children, may be assigned as a princi­pal reason of the well meant endeavors of so many proving abortive. Parents are often governed more by their feelings than their judgment. The exercise of such capricious government soon falls into contempt: instruction is thrown away, because counteracted by example; and [Page 85] all the good ends of domestic education, lost, thro indiscretion. After all our best systems, we are imperfect creatures: this, however, proves the necessity of them; that in our worst humor, we may have the assistance of that model which was the effect of cooler judgment.

LETTER XV.

TRUE, sir—"Life and organiza­tion never can result from a blind con­course of atoms; nor will the chymist, with all his art in compounds, ever find sensation and thought at the bottom of his crucible." But, by a seasonable at­tention to those curiously organized bod­ies, which the Creator hath given us, we find, both thought and sensation, may be rendered more quick and active, than they otherwise would be. We are mechanical beings; and, after all our boast of reason, we are influenced, thro life, by me­chanical powers. In the first stages of life, we are governed by no other princi­ples. [Page 86] Reason has little or no share in the direction of our actions, till we have passed several years under the government of in­stinct.

THIS was the term, in which Mrs. Bloomsgrove attended to the formation of her children's constitution, and to give a right direction to all the instinctive pow­ers and principles of nature. Mrs. G—, you know, was forever humoring and fondling her children; by which means their constitutions are ruined. Pale and wan, they appear but half animated; and are doomed to drag out a life of weakness and disease, without genius, vivacity, or powers of self enjoyment. But Mrs. Bloomsgrove, sensible that "a sound mind, in a sound body," was a blessing in the first rank of life; and that these are connected together, first turned her attention to their health. Cleanliness, air, and exercise, she considered as the stamina of health, and therefore let them play in the open air. She was less fearful of cold than heat, and had them temperately clad both [Page 87] summer and winter: by varying their dress but little, with the seasons, she pre­served a regular temperament of the body. This idea she probably received from Mr. Locke, who tells of persons in England, who wear the same clothes summer and winter, without any inconvenience, or more sense of cold than others. I am ac­quainted with those in America who prac­tise the same; and never put on a loose coat but in foul weather, who appear to suffer less from the cold, than those who are loaded with garments.

THIS depends on use: our faces are naturally as susceptible of cold, or heat, as any part of the body; it is only by habit, that they harden, and become capable of enduring either.

THE Scythian philosopher gave a proper account of this matter, in his an­swer to the Athenian, who inquired how he could go naked in frost and snow? How, said the Scythian, can you endure your face exposed to the sharp air? "My face is used to it," said the Athe­nian. [Page 88] "Think me all face," replied the Scythian.

MR. Locke recommends that children should lie without a cap at night, as soon they are able to run about without one by day; and assigns this reason for it. "Nothing more exposes to headachs, colds, catarrhs, coughs, and several other diseases, than keeping the head warm." For the same reason, I should suppose the child ought never to have a cap on its head. By exposing it to the air, it gathers strength; the solids become more tense, and act more vigorously, in propelling the circulating fluids. All the parts being more active, they repel many dangers to which they would otherwise be exposed; the business of thinking, reflecting, and reasoning, will be carried on with greater activity and vigor.

CERTAIN it is, that health prevails more in cottages than in palaces; and, no doubt, the organs of the body are in bet­ter order for mental operations. To what cause can we ascribe this, but to its being [Page 89] fed and clothed in a more plain and sim­ple manner; and more exposed to air and exercise? Osander and Rozella, have a bloom of health, and a sprightliness of mind, which distinguish them from most other children, of their age and condi­tion.

MRS. Bloomsgrove, observing that the children of a poor neighbor were seldom troubled with colds and coughs, which often attended those of a wealthy family in the same neighborhood; reasoned thus with herself: "those poor children acquire a hardiness from the necessity of having their feet frequently wet, being al­ways badly s [...]od; while the others never fail to take cold when, by accident, they wet theirs. To such accidents all child­ren, male and female, are sometimes ex­posed. And, besides, when the feet are not inured to a little hardiness, they suffer much from the tenderness, they acquire, by too much warmth."

THUS reasoned this excellent mother; and as she determined not to be governed [Page 90] by false tenderness, or the indiscreet prac­tice of others, in the education of her children; she was induced, from her own observation on its advantages to other chil­dren, to inure her's to feel alternately wet and dry, both summer and winter. Even the little Rozella, is suffered to wet her feet, while at play on the green in the back yard; where runs a murmuring rill, con­ducted from a distant fountain. The rose and the lily bloom on their cheeks, while they slide on the ice, which this lit­tle current affords in the winter; till their feet become wet with the snow which melts upon them. The tender mother is pained at the sight. She has almost for­gotten the period of such amusements, and shivers with the cold which she thinks they endure. A struggle between mater­nal tenderness, and more solid judgment, ensues. She is about to call them in; but they play on the snow and ice, with­out appearing to have the sensation of cold. "Their own feelings, said Mrs. Bloomsgrove, are the best standard for [Page 91] them; why should I call them in on ac­count of the cold, since they seem not to perceive it?" Her judgment prevails: they divert themselves until fatigued, or it is time to call them in to dinner:— They are not suffered to go to the fire, but are kept in motion, until the balance is well restored, and they are in a proper temperament to be at rest.

LETTER XVI.

ON a day, when the declining sun had tinged the mountain tops with its milder rays, and reddening skies invited the tuneful choir to serenade the groves, with the faint lays of their evening song; these happy parents were invited, by the serenity that followed the shower, to the gravel walk. At the instant of their re­turn, a little affair happened in the ver­dant back yard, which, were it not for its consequences, would not be worth relat­ing; but on account of those, deserves [Page 92] our notice. To this place the little brother and sister had been allured, by the same causes which induced their pa­rents to walk; the shower had swollen the rivulet beyond its usual size; they wish to see it overflow its banks. Ac­cordingly, they set about stopping its course with such materials as they can collect. They ply with vigor, and seem just ready to accomplish their design, when, lo! an unforeseen accident damps the rising joy; so precarious are all our prospects, all our enjoyments!

THE little Rozella, now about three or four years old, is deep laden with materi­als; and, in attempting to deposit them to the best advantage—O! dire to re­late—she plunges headlong into the over­flowing current. The parents, who had just returned, and were viewing the play­ful scene, ran to her relief, not much a­larmed, indeed, from the depth of water. On this occasion Mrs. Bloomsgrove shew­ed a great degree of self command; a nec­essary attainment for those who have the [Page 93] care of children! she caught her little daughter in her arms, and pleasantly said, "The ducks paddle in the water, there­fore Rozella is a little duck." Rozella took hold of her frock, and held it out, crying—Her mamma looked at it, and, smiling, said, "What, my dear, did you like to have wet your new frock? come, let us go and dry it." The surprise sub­sides: the child ceases crying, and soon begins to smile. A frown, on this occa­sion, would have broken her little heart, without the least possible advantage. Mrs. Bloomsgrove availed herself of the opportunity to wash them both, in the same water in which they had been at play; and found it salutary, in abating an eruptive complaint which attended them. By repeating the same, she soon found the complaint entirely removed. Convinced of the utility of the practice, she continued it, at short intervals; but frequently washed their heads and feet in cold water, through all the seasons. She was often heard to say, after her children [Page 94] were grown up, she believed scarce any thing had contributed so much to remove little complaints; to prevent great ones; and to consolidate their constitution, as this practice.

THE open air, where it can be enjoyed, undoubtedly, is far preferable to any house for children to divert themselves in; for, by degrees, they habituate themselves to those vicissitudes of weather, to which they will be exposed all their days. Their bodies will be of little use to them, in this variable climate, if they cannot endure those changes; nor can they enjoy life, unless prepared for them by early habits. The only objection Mrs. Bloomsgrove has to open air, is the danger of tarnishing her daughter's fair complexion. Against this she guards as effectually as she can; and the green plot serves, in a great meas­ure, as a preventive: and she considered that health, and sprightliness, which are no less ornamental to the sex, than a fair complexion, and which are promoted by those means, as a full compensation for the risk she ran.

[Page 95]N. B. THE pamphlet on female educa­tion came safe to hand; it contains many excellent observations on that subject: and though some parts of it may be condemn­ed by the gay, and inconsiderate; yet I will venture to say, the maxims it offers are more suited to the state of society, and government in this country, than the practice of those who explode them.

LETTER XVII.

PLAINNESS and simplicity, in food and drink, were the maxims which governed Mrs. Bloomsgrove in the man­agement of her children. Milk, and far­inaceous food, are most suitable for them. Custom has a great effect; and the palate may be formed to almost any thing; but, it by no means follows, that the stomach can safely receive every thing to which the palate may be reconciled. It was the o­pinion of the great Mr. Locke, that most of the diseases in England were to be imputed [Page 96] to eating too much meat, and too little bread. He therefore advises to avoid giving children any meat till they are two, or three years old. He supposes "they would breed their teeth with much less danger, be freer from disease, while they are little, and lay the foundation of an healthy and strong constitution much sur­er, if they were not crammed so much as they are, by fond mothers and foolish ser­vants, and were kept wholly from flesh the first three or four years of their lives!"

AS the palate may be formed to any thing, so it was prudent in Mrs. Blooms­grove, who received the entire approba­tion of her husband therein, to confine her children to a simple, unoffending diet. Butter, oily substances, gross meats, or any heavy bodies, such as high seasonings consist of, oppress the stomach, heat and vitiate the blood, and bring on unnatural drought, langor, and drowsiness; and therefore, are improper for children. This unnatural drought will only be in­creased by drinking; for it is certain that [Page 97] frequent drinking creates drought. This has led writers, on education, to caution parents against suffering children to have recourse, too frequently, to any kind of liquor. Drink is often given children to silence their crying; and whenever they see others drink, it excites an inclination to the same in themselves; and, if grati­fied, will induce a dangerous habit. The abovementioned writer says, that he once lived in a house where, to appease a frow­ard child, drink was given to it, as often as it cried; so that it was constantly drink­ing; and though the child could not speak, it drank more in twenty four hours than he did. A person may be guilty of intemperance in the use of cold water as well as of ardent spirits.

LETTER XVIII.

"THE experience of ages shews, that food should be plain, nutritive, and in plenty; and that the intervals of meals [Page 98] should not be distant, or formal, with children, whose constitutions digest rapid­ly. Food should be given, merely to sat­isfy hunger."

IN imitation of Augustus, who, when he was the greatest monarch on earth, tells us he took a bit of dry bread in his chariot, Osander ate little else than bread, milk, roots and vegetables, until near five years old. He was not confined to set meals, but ate when he was hungry, and drank when he was dry; unless those ap­petites appeared to be the effect of caprice, or were excited by seeing others eat; for children are imitative beings. In that case, he is tried with a piece of dry bread or fair water; if the appetite be not strong enough for these, it is a false one. By this simple, temperate manner of living, he ac­quired all the strength, sprightliness, and agility, of the young Romans, who were fed in the same way, and were remarkable for strength and activity.

NATURE is the best directress in those cases; and it is safest following her dic­tates. [Page 99] The habit of eating at a particular hour, when we rise into a family state, be­comes convenient: business, company, and the order of society, render it unavoid­able; but it cannot be necessary that child­ren should be compelled to eat then, or to suspend eating at other times. When the habit is contracted, the child will feel the cravings of appetite at the stated periods; and will indulge merely from habit, or to gratify an imaginary want. The conse­quences will be, a depression of spirits, ill humor, and fretfulness.

ALTHO Osander is permitted to sit at table at the age of five, yet he is not often helped to any meat, and seldom wishes for any; much less does he ever ask for this or that, as fancy may dictate; as is the manner of some children, who are made perfect epicures at ten years old. And as to Rozella, tho, like the Spar­tan misses, she is bred up to some degree of hardiness, yet she can scarce be prevail­ed upon to taste meat till she is six or seven years old; but she is as plump as a par­tridge, and fresh as a rose.

[Page 100]IN the article of fruit, with which the garden abounded, they were indulged, with very little restriction, except that the fruit be ripe. In a situation like theirs, it would be impossible to lay a restraint with­out creating a temptation to violate orders, and giving encouragement to rapacity. The same observation holds good of all market towns, where children's coppers will procure fruit without the parents' knowledge.

TO prohibit their use of it, or even to attempt to restrain it, would only make them ravenous after that for which they would never hanker, if laid open to them at will. And, besides, the rotation of summer fruit is admirably suited, to cor­rect the blood and juices, and afford a balance against the excessive heat of that season. The vegetable acid serves as a powerful antiscorbutic, while the rich pulp nourishes animal nature; and if children at any time overdo a little, they will find by experience the necessity of more caution for the future.

LETTER XIX.

MY Mercury is on the wing, and admits not my continuing the subject:— but, while he is adjusting some little mat­ters, I snatch a moment to take a turn with you in the garden. Large and commo­dious, it contains every kind of delicious fruit, together with roots and vegetables for the use of the family; I may add, of many a poor family also in the neighbor­ing village, who share the bounty of its owner. This is a lively emblem of Mr. Bloomsgrove! who always blends the useful and agreeable in a happy manner. In the midst of this garden, is a spacious walk: trees and flowers, on either side, afford an assemblage of agreeable objects as we pass. At the yonder end, is an ar­bor which has an air of elegant simplicity, and affords a cool retreat from the heat of the sun. The woodbine, interspersed a­mong its sashes, makes a beautiful appear­ance, and dazzles the eye with an infinity of reflections, which glitter among the [Page 102] leaves. The seats are so entwined with savin, as to have the appearance of a green sofa. On either side is a fish pond, with a bathing font at the end, constantly sup­plied with fresh water from beneath a dis­tant rock. As the principal walk runs in a vermicular direction, and all the others in a similar manner, they do not intersect each other at right angles; but in every direction are cut into segments of circles. This is imitating nature: for she no where, in any of her works, exhibits a right angle; and it affords a romantic ap­pearance. By this contrivance the foliage has much more benefit from the air, than if they were in direct lines. As you enter the gate, your eye follows the slow wind­ing course, and surveys, partly thro the trees, the bowery at the other end, which has a fine effect upon the imagina­tion. But, I must clip her wings, and bid you adieu.

LETTER XX.

THE period, of which we now speak, is not a season for the acquisition of much understanding. But I will venture to say, in the first seven years of our life, we gain more knowledge, than in the same term, during any other part of life. Children are so inquisitive concerning the names, properties and relations of things, that there are but few objects, with which we generally become acquainted, but fall within the limits of a child's knowledge. We afterwards view them in a different manner, because we have more under­standing of their properties; we become more able to investigate the causes, and trace the effects of natural objects; for children acquire their knowledge, by per­ception only; but men gain understand­ing by reasoning, comparison, and deduc­tion. After all our mighty boast of un­derstanding, it is but a poor pittance compared with the knowledge we get by perception: and mankind, in general, are [Page 104] influenced more in their sentiments and manners, through life, by the latter, than by the former. Tho chil [...]ren cannot form syllogisms, or make a set of argu­ments, ye [...] they do something very similar, and which has a like effect on their actions. A child, at the breast, will be pleased, or displeased, affrighted, or soothed, by tracing the lineaments of its mother's, or nurse's, passions in the face.

THIS you will call a mechanical influ­ence on the infant passions: be it so: who does not see the effect this will have on the temper, and future character of the child? Before it can understand the mean­ing of any word, it will be greatly affected by the tone of voice; by harmony and discord. Parents should therefore take care, what sounds are familiar to their children; should be mindful of the lan­guage they use in their presence. Child­ren know more than people are generally aware of. The disposition is now form­ing: the little plant of reason is now in embryo; these should be guarded against [Page 105] noxious vapours, and cherished with pru­dent culture. As they are now moulded they will continue.

LETTER XXI.

THAT children should be taught to submit to necessity, that is, to bear any unavoidable pain, with patience, is not only right, but the most useful lesson in life. It will be to little purpose, however, to tell a child, in a fit of the colic, that it is unavoidable; painful necessity already convinces him of that. It is the little as­perities of life, the cross events, the disap­pointments we meet with, and our inabil­ity to gratify our wishes, that irritate the passions, and call for the exercise of mod­eration and patience. Happy would it be for children, if parents were more gen­erally possessed of this quality. Precept would then have its influence, and more [Page 106] powerful example would not fail to per­suade. The passions of the heart are la­tent qualities, which lie concealed till some occurrence strikes them out; as the prop­erty of heat in certain bodies does not ap­pear until brought forth by collision; and altho these passions will always be ex­cited by those objects, or occurrences which make the collision, their effect may be so directed and limited, as to [...]duce the happiest consequences. To do this effectually, requires judgment, attention, and vigilance. This is the most difficult, and, at the same time, the most important part of education: for on the regulation of our passions, depend our own comfort and the happiness of those about us; our progress in virtue, and the discharge of all those duties we owe to God, our fellow creatures, and ourselves.

TO the honor of Mrs. Bloomsgrove, it must be said, that she managed this crit­ical part of education with wisdom and prudence. Though soft and gentle in her manners, and mild in her government, [Page 107] yet she has irritable qualities, and a tem­per susceptible of emotion. This is often put to the test among children; but judg­ment is the pole star which guides her. She well knew the importance of shewing her children that she could command her own passions, and submit to unavoidable evils; in order to train them to so useful an exercise as that of self command. This is a task which requires great exertion. Parents must often do violence to them­selves, and frequently stifle their real feelings.

OSANDER and Rozella, like other child­ren, are born with the various passions and propensities of human nature. They see some of the servants fearful, when it thunders, and run to their mamma, in a fright, for shelter: she appears cheerful, and pleasantly says, "The sun will shine clearly, and the birds will sing prettily, after this." Whatever might be her feel­ings, on the occasion, it was very prudent to appear cheerful, and improve the cause of their alarm to so agreeable an end. [Page 108] The least appearance of timidity, in her, would have confirmed their fears, and deeply impressed their minds; for they think "papa and mamma know every thing." Afterwards, when a thunder gust is rising, she calls them to her own room, which is in the southeast corner of the house, and looking thro a lattice formed of honeysuckle, commands a most beautifully variegated prospect; and

Mrs. Bloomsgrove, with the aid of her husband, if he is at home, amuses the child­ren with the various beauties that offer themselves to view, and with such enter­taining stories as arise in her mind. The habit of doing this rendered them quite fearless of thunder, and the reasons she used to assign to them, in order to excite their fortitude, had a happy effect in con­firming her own.

[Page 109]WHATEVER objects affright them, unless they are such as should warn them of real danger, she reconciles them to, by rendering them familiar: this is done by degrees, with a great deal of management, and with an air of pleasantry. No stories of ghosts and hobgoblins have ever yet reached their ears, nor ever will, if the vigilance of their parents can prevent the evil. Mrs. Bloomsgrove once caught a young woman, who had lately come into the house, telling some wonderful story to the children: she concluded, by their at­tention, that it partook of the marvellous; and immediately called her to her own room, as if to do something, where she lectured her upon the folly and danger of alarming the apprehensions of children with bugbear stories; and assured her, that if she ever did the like again, she must immediately quit the house. Great care is requisite to guard children against the follies of servants: they are generally fond of marvellous things, and children are pleased with the same, because they have [Page 110] not reason to balance those passions which are excited by them. Many people suf­fer, thro life, with the fear which the imprudence of nurses and servants early impressed on them, by rehearsing stories of ghosts, witches, apparitions, and the like.

OSANDER and Rozella have no more fear from those chimerical inhabitants of darkness, than we have from those of the planet Herschel: their ignorance is their protection against all such fairy beings. Having no knowledge of them, they go to bed in the dark, with less fear than most oth­ers do with a candle; they say their pray­ers; repeat their evening hymns, and fall asleep, with as little apprehension of dan­ger, as if in their mother's arms.

NOTHING could have been more di­rectly in point—A friend, who, this mo­ment, has called on me, informs me of the death of an unfortunate youth about eighteen years of age. A more promising child perhaps never blest a mother's arms, until twelve years old; when a servant, [Page 111] who had made him extremely timid, by relating stories of ghosts and apparitions, came suddenly upon him in the dusk of an evening, in an attitude, in which he had represented their appearance. Seeing by the help of the dim light, from a pale glim­mering candle, at a distance, as he sup­posed, one of those infernal agents whose image had so often been presented to his mind, the shock was too great for na­ture to sustain—He fainted instantly—He fell—Every effort was used to recover him. At length, he seemed to awake, bu [...] in the greatest fright imaginable—He fell into convulsion fits, which deprived him of all rational exercises, and reduced him, alter­nately, to the state of a madman and an idiot. He could never be left without one to guard him, and in the night was, for years, confined in a cage; this morning, breaking loose from his confinement, he ran to a pond near by, and plunging into it, was drowned before he could be recov­ered, tho closely pursued. Thus end­ed the life of an only son, the hope of his [Page 112] parents, by the folly and imprudence of a servant; who, in vain, lamented the mis­eries he brought upon them.

LETTER XXII.

A VARIETY of cares and atten­tions occupy the mind, and divide the time of wise and prudent mothers.^* It is theirs, not only, to feed them with salutary diet, and watch for their personal safety; but to cherish the principles, and exercise them in the practice, of gratitude to ben­efactors, love of truth, justice, benefi­cence, and whatever qualities are requisite to render them amiable, useful, and happy in life. If this attention is wisely em­ployed, it will not fail to produce every [Page 113] virtue necessary to the human character: but an injudicious management will gen­erate the opposite vices; ingratitude, self­ishness, falsehood, cruelty, revenge: these are not the offsprings of nature, but of mismanagement in childhood; and entail mischiefs which no future care can pre­vent or remedy.

MRS. Bloomsgrove guards her children against rashness, by suffering them to ex­perience the inconvenience of it, when very young. Rozella, pleased with the lustre of a candl [...], cries for it: she is per­mitted to handle it, and to burn her finger a little: she never wishes for so dangerous a bauble again. If Osander cries for a shining knife, i [...] is given him; but craftily drawn so as to [...]t his finger: he feels the inconvenience of the glittering thing, and willingly gives it up; nor does he soon forget the danger attending it.

CHILDREN brought up together, in the affectionate manner they were, have few differences; but the most perfect educa­tion will not wholly prevent these. The [Page 114] idea of property, and sense of personal rights, take place very early in the mind. Interferences of interest, or of passions, will produce contentions; and these, com­plaints: but so prudent a mother will rarely indulge children, in coming to her with complaints one against the other. To allow of this, on every trifling occa­sion, would be to encourage a complain­ing disposition. To receive, and decide on, their controversies, unless some real injury is done, would have a tendency to excite enmity between them. She makes light of their complaints against each oth­er, telling them that such trifles are not worth minding; but privately admonish­es the aggressor. If Rozella catches up her brother's top and runs away with it, and complaint is made, or her mamma sees the playful trick, she is told to restore it and never to take any thing that does not belong to her—"How would you like to have Osander get the pieces of china out of your baby house, or the flowers from your knot in the garden? and besides, a [Page 115] top is not a pretty thing for girls to play with." If he, at any time, invades her property, the same useful lesson is taught him. By these means they are learning to feel the force of that social rule of con­duct, "DO AS YE WOULD BE DONE UNTO," before they understand any thing of its origin or extent.

EVERY action, that had the appearance of revenge, was treated with such marks of disapprobation, as to convince the child both of the impropriety and inconvenience of it. They were taught the most pleas­ing kind of revenge, doing good to the injurious, &c. by little stories suited to their capacities, and which illustrated the subject in the best manner. A little af­fray happened between the children one day, which, for the many useful lessons it produced, deserves to be related. But on account of the length of the story, I will reserve it till my next.

P. S. A RECENT instance, of the at­tention which children sometimes pay to what is said by their parents, deserves no­tice; [Page 116] and, lest it should escape me, I will give it you here; for it shews that parents should never be off their guard in talking before their children. "A lady said, be­fore one of her little girls who seemed not to hear, that Mrs. —, a neighbor of theirs, was an agreeable woman, when she had not a drop in her eye. Soon after­wards this same lady was on a visit to the little girl's mamma: the child look­ed at her with uncommon attention: the lady observing it, says—"Why do you look so earnestly at me, my dear?" The little innocent replied—"I am looking to see if there is any drop in your eye."

LETTER XXIII.

IT happened one day, as Rozella was running in one of the cross walks in the garden, she stumbled over the handle of Osander's hoe, which he had heedless­ly left in the way. She fell upon his bed, [Page 117] and broke down a favorite vine, which he had nourished with more than ordinary care. He came into the garden just as she had arisen, and stood looking at the vine she had unfortunately broken. O­sander seeing what she had done, and not knowing by what means, in the first sally of passion, ran to her knot and pulled up by the roots the most beautiful tulip she had in all her flowery. Grievous com­plaints from both sides go up to their mamma; for she is the arbitress in all their childish disputes. Both are plaint­iffs, both defendants. She hears them patiently, speaks kindly to both; and dis­misses them for the present, telling them to go wash their faces, for they had been crying, and to ask Caspina, the maid, for a piece of bread.

TAKING them separately, she inquired into the affair: as Rozella was the first, in the seeming transgression, she was sum­moned first. It appeared, on examina­tion, to be an accident in which she came very near losing one of her eyes. She [Page 118] sobs, and was very much troubled, to think she had hurt her brother's vine, and offers to replace it with some of her sweet brier. She is dimissed with a caution to be more careful in future, and a charge always to love her little brother. Sweet innocence sat on her little brow, and with a low courtesy said, "thank you, mamma," and went out.

OSANDER was then called: he appears guilty. Such is the different effect of actions voluntary, and those which are unavoidable. Washing in cold water had stilled the tumult of his passions; eat­ing with his sister had opened all the ave­nues to the heart: he felt the force of conviction, and owned the fault. He said he would never hurt his sister's things any more; that he intended only to pull off the tulip, and the whole came up by the roots: but he would replace it with his double pink holyoke, and that when her cousin Fanny came, they should both pick as many of his strawberries as they pleased; and that the next time [Page 119] his sister fell down, he would run and help her up, instead of hurting her flow­er bed.

SELF CONVICTION is the best foun­dation for amendment. The action was revengeful, and deserved pun­ishment; and the prudent mother put him into a way to inflict it on himself. She gravely said, "My dear, I am glad you see your error. I only wish you had seen it before you committed it; because revenge is the worst thing in the world: for the future, you must think what you are going to do, before you do it; and never do wrong to others if they have done so to you. But your sister did not design you an injury; and besides, she had like to have lost one of her eyes in the fall." The mention of this quite over­came him. He burst into a flood of tears, saying, "what would my poor little sister have done, if she had lost one of her eyes?" Every circumstance helped to prepare the way for useful lessons, and generous actions. Rozella, being called [Page 120] in, her brother catches her round the neck, and, kissing her, calls her his dear little sister; is sorry he spoiled her beau­tiful tulip; laments the danger, she had been in, of losing one of her eyes; offers her any thing, every thing in his garden; and, above all, promises to be kind to her always. The little generous creature de­clined all his offers except the last; and says, "that is worth more than an hun­dred tulips, and she does not desire any thing else."

EVERY thing being now calm and se­rene, and the children more affectionate than ever; the happy mother sees new beauties in them, and is delighted with their prattle and playful tricks. While the mother is thus enjoying domestic pleasures, the father, who had been at­tending the judicial court at —, re­turns to partake in the happy fruits of his wife's prudent management, without knowing what had passed. He enjoys the cheerfulness of his wife, and the prat­tle [Page 121] of the children,^* who hang around him, till the clock strikes seven, then bid­ding their papa and mamma good night, they go to bed in more harmony and cheerfulness than ever.

AFTER they were gone, Mrs. Blooms­grove related the whole affair to her hus­band, with all the circumstances of her management, and the effect it had upon their minds; of which he had just been a witness. Perhaps a wife never appeared with more dignity or amiableness in the eyes of her husband, than she did on this occasion. He highly applauded the meas­ures she had taken. He saw, at once, the mechanical effect of cold water to mode­rate the passions; and the influence which [Page 122] the act of eating together had in produc­ing harmony of affection. He dwelt largely on the vast advantage of the pru­dent care and wise management of a mother to young children; and bestowed many encomiums upon her, and declared himself extremely happy in having a wife so competent to the business of educating the objects of their mutual affections. Ye affectionate husbands, who are blest with wives who nurse the infancy, and guard the childhood of your offspring, consider their painful task, the variety and diffi­culty attending it; and never cease to al­leviate their condition by tenderness, and reward their goodness by applause! Mrs. Bloomsgrove has a mind superior to van­ity; and could enjoy no pleasure from applause, unless conscious of having en­deavored to discharge her duty. The cool approbation of Mr. Bloomsgrove, however, could not fail of affording her sensible pleasure: this she expressed by a modest reply, becoming the delicacy of her sex, and the affection of a wife to the best of husbands.

[Page 123]WHILE the full orbed moon, which guides the benighted traveller, ascended our hemisphere, and silvered every object around; these happy parents beguiled the lapsing hours in pleasing conversation about their little son and daughter. O­sander was now about eight, and began to exhibit some marks of brilliant genius. Rozella had just entered her seventh year, with a form and disposition flatter­ing to the views of an affectionate mother. They were now so far advanced, as to re­quire the joint aid of a father to raise the superstructure, the foundation of which their mother's care had laid. He cheer­fully offers to lend every assistance in his power, in bringing forward the fruit to perfection, the early buds of which she had so tenderly cherished. They were antici­pating the pleasure they should one day derive from a persevering care in the right management of their children, when a loud rap at the door called their attention from the subject, and introduced a Miss —, who is to bear a part in the future memoirs of this family.

[Page 124]THE subject has beguiled me into a still later hour in relating it; and the iron register of time remands me to rest.

LETTER XXIV.

IMITATION is a very powerful spring of action in human nature, espec­ially in children. In females, it operates more strongly than in our sex: they are quick to discern the peculiarities of female conduct, and directly catch the manners of their own sex. This proneness to im­itation, strengthens in proportion as the manners and amusements of others come within our reach: small children will, therefore, be more likely to imitate those older than themselves, than grown peo­ple. Altho older children will descend to partake in the amusements of younger, rather than be left alone, yet this is con­trary to nature: she always directs us to imitate those above us. On this account, great advantage may be made of this imi­tative [Page 125] propensity, in the progress of edu­cation.

I CANNOT go on to relate the circum­stances, relative to the new comer into the family, before I mention some of the dangerous tendencies of this imitative propensity, and some of its uses. Child­ren often catch a broken dialect from those older than themselves, of which it requires great pains to break them. It is observed, that those children who are brought up in the West Indies, surround­ed with Negroes, have a kind of mongrel, Anglo-Africano dialect. The same ill effect is produced, by speaking to them in a broken inarticulate language, or, what is called babytalk. This ought never to be permitted; but the most plain, full, and distinct sounds should be employed in speaking to children. Another bad effect which may arise from this propensity, is, that boys and girls, being constantly to­gether in a family, will slide into an imi­tation of each others manners; tho na­ture dictates different manners and amuse­ments [Page 126] to them. "A boy educated with girls of his own age, will imitate their manners and become effeminate; but it is more common to see a girl imitate the manners of the boys with whom she is ed­ucated." The consequences are more injurious in the latter case than in the former; for the manners will react upon the mind, and have their influence in moulding that: but the effect of any im­proper stamp, from this quarter, will be much more easily effaced from boys than girls; they are more abroad, and conver­sant with a greater variety of objects, which have a tendency to efface any un­favorable impression.

IT was on account of this imitative proneness, and the advantages to be de­rived from it, that Mrs. Bloomsgrove con­ceived a with to procure a female compan­ion for her little daughter, whose educa­tion had been such as would afford a good model for imitation; and of such an age, as not to have lost all relish for amuse­ments suited to that of Rozella. This [Page 127] would be securing to her all the pleasures of company and amusement at home, and afford a constant stimulus to improvement, without the disadvantage of bad examples among other children. Nothing has a better tendency to elevate the mind, than to place those images before it, which, tho above our reach at present, yet appear not too far distant to encourage our hope of soon attaining the same excellence. This wish she communicated to her hus­band, who was soon going to —, where lived a distant relation of Mrs. Blooms­grove, who had four daughters and two sons. She was the widow of a merchant of great integrity, who lived in the me­tropolis, where the widening river min­gles its waters with those of the Atlantic ocean. His children had, therefore, en­joyed every advantage for the refinements of education; nor had they been neglect­ed, as is too often the case, in the more substantial qualities. His circumstances had been much reduced by losses at sea: and about this time the misfortunes of the [Page 128] family were completed. The dwelling house in which he lived, took fire, and communicated the flame to an adjoining store: it being dry, and a high wind at southeast, the fire raged to such a degree, as to baffle every effort to check its prog­ress. In the space of an hour, he saw his buildings, with most of his effects, consum­ed to ashes. A circumstance much more distressful to his family was, he overheat­ed himself by violent exertions to rescue his property from the devouring flames, which threw him into a fever, of which he died in about ten days, amidst the inex­pressible grief and lamentations of a most affectionate wife, and six children; the youngest of whom, FANNY, was about thirteen. Circumstanced as they now were, the proposals from Mrs. Blooms­grove were very agreeable. Fanny, was to be prepared for her departure as soon as possible, and to be conveyed under the protection of her youngest brother, a youth of about twenty, who was remark­able for his kindness and attention to his sisters.

[Page 129]FANNY unites that delicacy, sensibility, and generosity of mind, to a fair form and graceful manners, which never fail to at­tract the notice and secure the esteem of all her acquaintance. Being the youngest of four sensible and amiable sisters, she had derived great advantage from the in­formation they had acquired, and from the dignity of their manners. This lus­tre, she is now invited to reflect down up­on the little Rozella, as a kind of precep­tive companion. She was expected about this time, which had excited the solicitude of Osander and Rozella, to have their little gardens in the best order, at her ar­rival; and this, probably, was the cause or their great agitation, occasioned by the adventure in the garden. This palliates Osander's criminality a little, for he had not discovered any marks of a revengeful temper before, having never been taught it, in childhood, by having the floor beat­en, because "IT HURT BABY." Noth­ing can be more ill judged, than this method of teaching children to retaliate [Page 130] injuries, before they understand the meaning of the word.

IT was not long after they had retired to rest, when Fanny arrived, with her brother. The servant, who went to the door, at the loud rap, I mentioned before, ran, in an ecstacy of joy, to tell his mistress of Miss Fanny's arrival; and would im­mediately have gone, and awoke Rozella, that she might partake of the joy, but she prevented him. There can scarcely be a surer evidence of a good master and mis­tress, than the pleasure which a servant expresses at those domestic occurrences, in which he can have no other interest, than the pleasure which they receive.

FANNY met a most cordial reception from her new patrons. They desired her to consider herself perfectly at home, and to look upon them as her papa and mam­ma; as such they assured her they would act. The usual inquiries being made af­ter the health of the family, and having taken some refreshment, she was shewn to her apartment, being much fatigued with [Page 131] her journey. In the morning, Caspina went, much earlier than usual, to awake Rozella, and communicate the joyful tid­ings of her cousin's arrival. She was in raptures with the account; and having never yet seen her cousin, could hardly wait till she rose, without flying into her arms. But, being early accustomed to a restraint on her passions, and submission to government, she was composed, without difficulty, to wait her cousin's hour, tho a late one.

THEIR first meeting was such, as might naturally be expected from children cir­cumstanced as they were; nor was Osan­der an unconcerned spectator of the de­lightful scene; but entered deeply into the spirit of it. He felt the more sensible pleasure on the occasion, as he should soon have an opportunity to shew her his gar­den; and to lead her and his sister to his strawberry bank. Fanny is soon made acquainted with the articles of furniture in Rozella's play house, and the several kinds of flowers which adorn her garden. [Page 132] As soon as breakfast was over, Osander invited them into the garden; shewed his cousin all the curiosities; and led them to the bank where the strawberries hung in clusters, and in all their perfection. He very prettily invited them both to come there and eat strawberries, whenever it should be agreeable to them. The hour having arrived, he bade them good bye, saying, "I must go to school."

IN my next I will return from this di­gression, and entertain you with some new matter.

LETTER XXV.

TO avoid confusion of objects and ideas, I proposed dividing the season of education into three periods, and assigning to each, those exercises suited to develop the native powers of the mind, and draw forth, under proper cultivation, the prin­ciples and affections of the heart. The first period, thro which we have seen these [Page 133] children conducted, is naturally and prin­cipally the season of impressions; but not wholly exclusive of sentiments, opinions, or principles. The faculty of comparing those impressions, and the desires they oc­casion, are of early birth: tho not strictly coeval with impressions and sensibility, yet they closely attend their steps.

IT will, therefore, be impossible to avoid recurring to the first period for the com­mencement of the culture of many vir­tues, the practice of which more properly belongs to the subsequent periods. If we take a review of what has passed in the first stage, we shall see the effect, which the impressions of it are likely to have upon the future periods of education. From facts, children pass to general max­ims; their impressions are assorted into classes; and from comparing the effects of outward objects on their sensibil­ity, they acquire principles, or the art of reasoning. "Children are per­verted in their mother's arms: they ac­quire dispositions, principles, or charac­ters, [Page 134] very difficult to remove, as early as the art of walking. The disposition, hu­mor, and temper, which have been form­ed early, under injudicious or bad man­agement, are called, emphatically, by the scriptures, "the law of sin" in the habit, or constitution."

THE inference has been justly drawn from the experience of an ingenious writ­er, that it is a truth, susceptible of demon­stration, that the present method of edu­cation should be inverted; and children be led from facts to sentiments, maxims, or principles; not from principles or sen­timents to facts. He affirms that he had greater difficulties, even in the first period of education, with the rudiments of bad principles and passions, or the commence­ment of bad habits, than he should have had with the whole education of children, delivered to him with the usual innocence, or ignorance, of infancy; and he goes on to observe—

"THE capacity, as well as character of a man, depends greatly on the passions of [Page 135] infancy; particularly on early associa­tions, or early habits. This truth escapes common observers; because it depends on a number of minute circumstances, which appear separately insignificant. When these circumstances are combined in their effects, they become important in morals; but continuing unconnected in the imaginations of parents, opportunities of regulating or correcting them are lost. They are so numerous, that they affect the constitution and mind of a child in methods so various, that persons not ac­customed to the art of investigation or reasoning, suspend all judgment and di­rection, until minute dispositions have as­sorted themselves into principles and hab­its, or have impressed an indelible char­acter on the mind. This effect takes place, in some children early; in others, late. I have known the character com­pletely fixed in nine or ten years.

ERROR and negligence, respecting the ingredients of passions or habits, in the first period of education, are constant al­loys [Page 136] to the excellence afterwards acquired. Injudicious indulgence, carelessness, or se­verity, fixes in our constitution ill health and bad temper, which mark the body or countenance with deformity, and render the mind incapable of great acquisitions, either of science or happiness. The knowl­edge we possess, is often like liquor poured into distempered vessels. Hence the aston­ishing inequalities of modern characters. Minds and figures cast in heavenly moulds, actuated by the passions of fiends; great acquisitions in science, dishonored by mean habits; or the best principles of morality, associated with the worst vices. These contradictions are so familiar, that we sel­dom expect in our acquaintance, general uniformity or consistency of character. We say, with candid compassion, of one, that he has great wisdom or learning; but is licentious or immoral in his private conduct: of another, that he is conscien­tious in the principles and forms of re­ligion; but he is unhappy in his temper, deceitful in his professions, or oppressive [Page 137] in his transactions. Such is the influence of habits; and such the importance of early management of the passions.

LETTER XXVI.

THE children have now arrived at that age, which is generally considered as the second stage in their education. I have dwelt the longer on that period, which, to many, appears of little use in the business of education, and for that reason: it is the most favorable season for moral culture, and may be improved in such a manner, as greatly to facilitate in­struction in letters, and progress in arts. If the foundation be not well laid, the superstructure will totter and fall to the ground. Children are, at first, in a state of entire dependence; they are helpless, and passive in every thing: but it does not follow, that they should remain so forever, or be kept in that condition be­yond the natural period, by the habits of [Page 138] education. Nature prompts them to pant for independence, and to help them­selves as soon as they have power; but education, especially among the wealthy, often checks these efforts of nature, and keeps them dependent, and helpless all their days. Unaccustomed to exert their power, at an early period, and being al­ways waited upon, they find themselves in the condition of the indolent and help­less nobleman, who, having never been taught to dress himself, was obliged to lie in bed, flat upon his back, "like a turtle on an alderman's kitchen table, until a servant came to dress him▪"

INDOLENCE, incapacity for vigorous exertion, and dulness of apprehension, are the effects of furnishing children with ev­ery thing they want, without any thought, or action of their own. Our health, ac­tivity, and usefulness in the world, de­pend on the powers of exertion being braced up, by early habits of action. Ex­ercise is as requisite to produce strength and agility of body, as application to [Page 139] study, is to enlarge and invigorate the powers of the mind. The following pic­turesque account of the indolence of young people in England, born heirs to great estates, I think, reflects great dis­honor upon parents, however wealthy they may be.

"IF there is any characteristic peculiar to the young people of fashion, of the present age, it is their laziness, or extreme unwillingness to attend to any thing that can give them the least disquietude; without any degree of which they would fain enjoy all the luxuries of life, in con­tradiction to the dispositions of provi­dence, and the nature of things. They would have great estates without manage­ment, great expenses without accounts, and great families without discipline, or economy; in short they are fit only to be inhabitants of Lubberland, where, as the child's geography informs us, men lie upon their backs with their mouths open, and it rains fat pigs ready roasted."

[Page 140]IT is to be regretted that any thing sim­ilar to this should ever have crept into America; where an estate, however large, seldom passes beyond a third generation; because that generation is brought up in indolence, and indulged in extravagant expenses. While the rich keep posses­sion of their estates, they are as liable to accidents as other men, which require vig­ilance to foresee, exertion to guard against, or invention to extricate themselves from. "The sons of Princes, said Carneades the philosopher, learn nothing to purpose, but to ride the great horse; in other ex­ercises every one bends to them; but a great horse will throw the son of a King with no more remorse than the son of a cobler."

I BELIEVE you were well acquainted with Mr. —, when he was in flourish­ing circumstances, and with the manner in which his family was managed: the children must never help themselves to any thing which required the least labor; this would make the boys servile and the [Page 141] girls indelicate. I have heard of their say­ing that they never so much as help­ed themselves to the water with which they washed their face and hands: if a servant was not at liberty to get it for them, they would either wait till he was, or go unwashed for the day: indolence and inertness grew up with them. Too lazy to attend to any business, and wholly destitute of economy, they soon squander­ed away their ample patrimony; and were reduced to extreme poverty, with­out the knowledge, or powers of exertion, necessary to remedy their circumstances. In this helpless and distressful situation, their only boast was, that they never had done any work in their lives: and in them was literally verified the old adage, "He that will not work shall not eat." Having dragged out a life of inactivity, not of enjoyment; and reduced to ex­treme poverty, they sunk under the weight of infirmity, contracted by indolence, and mingled with the common mass of inert matter.

[Page 142]APROPOS.—Of washing the face, hands, and teeth, as soon as we are up in the morning, besides the cleanliness of it, ma­ny advantages arise from the practice. It contributes to health by giving a stimulus to the blood, both by the action it requires, and the application of cold water to the surface; and by washing the mouth and throat, and rubbing the teeth with a stiff brush, a quantity of morbid matter, which has collected during the course of the night, and would soon become fetid, is re­moved; the enamel of the teeth is pre­served from the destructive influence of this corrosive substance; and the breath spared from its noxious effluvia. The brush ought indeed always to be used after eating. In France and England, great care is taken to preserve the teeth of children; and hence it is you rarely see a French or an English person, especially a lady, who has not an excellent set of teeth; and it is generally agreed that no one feature of the face contributes so much to its beauty, as clean sound teeth.

[Page 143]I THINK the method you have adopted with your children, of dipping their heads frequently into cold water, and rub­bing their teeth with a little cream of tar­tar, an excellent one; and doubt not they will derive great advantage from so ration­al a practice.

LETTER XXVII.

MR. Bloomsgrove was a man of suf­ficient property to have kept a servant to attend each of his children: but, appriz­ed of the dangerous effects of such a meas­ure, and convinced that industry is the surest guard against vice, and the best means of securing health and the powers of enjoyment; he early habituated them to it. It sometimes happens that mothers cannot bear to see their children making efforts to do any thing which can be done, or procured for them. But, happy for Osander and Rozella, their mamma al­ways encouraged them in exercising their [Page 144] invention to make their own play things. No toys were purchased for them, as is common among most wealthy parents. The purchase of these has a disagreeable effect on the mind. They are of no con­sequence any longer than they have the appearance of novelty; familiarity soon destroys the pleasure, or breeds disgust: others must be procured, or the mind will not rest at ease: if procured, the desire of novelty is increased, and the power of en­joyment diminished; for enjoyment de­pends much on our own exertions. That which we acquire at the expense of some labor, we value; and we enjoy, with pe­culiar relish, the fruits of our own inven­tion and industry.

GREAT advantages arose to those child­ren from their being left to invent amuse­ments for themselves, and make their own toys. By this happy contrivance, their invention was put upon the stretch to form schemes for amusement, and con­struct machines for play: this inured them to think and recollect for themselves; [Page 145] and it brought into exercise, all those pow­ers which are of constant use in the com­mon affairs of life. While invention was employed in devising, action was neces­sary to carry into effect whatever they had planned; this induced the habits of ac­tivity and industry.

I HAVE before observed, that they were furnished with such opportunities and means of amusement, as had a tendency to encourage and promote these habits, by a privilege in the garden. Osander cannot, indeed, make his tools; but at the age of nine, he can dig up his ground in the garden and dress it; for on these con­ditions he holds it. He can make his own bow and arrows. His marbles are of his own construction. His ball, top, sled, and whatever serves for amusement, are the effect of his own handicraft, with very little assistance. These he continued to enjoy without being cloyed, or wish­ing for any others; because he was first employed in making, and then in using them.

[Page 146]ROZELLA cannot dig her garden, this would be too masculine an employment for a little girl; but she can pull out the weeds and keep the bed clean. She can dress and undress her doll; and carry it thro all the ceremonies of giving and receiving visits. She nurses, instructs, and corrects it; and is never tired of the business, because it gives her exercise; and she enjoys the fruit of her own labor. Children are naturally active; and if this stimulus is kept alive by proper induce­ments to industry, they will never languish for want of occupation, nor will their amusements become insipid by familiarity. Consequences most fatal to their improve­ment, and future usefulness, may be ex­pected, when they can find neither em­ployment nor amusement.

AS idleness is the inlet to almost every vice, with young people, so a habit of sauntering, when children, has been the ruin of many a hopeful genius. Idleness too has an ill effect on the temper: for want of exercise and employment to fix [Page 147] and engage the attention, children, as well as adult persons, grow out of humor, and become peevish.

OUR little master and his sister are in no danger of being soured on this ac­count; or of becoming rusty for want of action: between the employments com­mitted to them, and their own industry in inventing and making things for amuse­ment, they find no idle hours. Children love employment; but cannot bear long confinement: their greatest pleasures would soon become irksome, if imposed as a task. Application and relaxation should, therefore, so divide their time, as to make both a pleasure. Nothing should be assigned children under the idea of a task, because the very idea is disgusting.

THEY should be fired with a spirit of emulation to equal, or excel others; and their industry, should be made to carry its own reward with it; or, at least, held so near to view, as never to lose its influence.

OSANDER never thinks much of what he has to get by heart, or to translate; [Page 148] because it is cheerfully proposed to him as something which will be beneficial to him­self; and will make him find out some­thing he did not know before: he has not so much given him to get, but he may easily attain it within the time; and that time is not so long, as to make him restless by confinement. Rozella is so accustom­ed to order and regularity, as to go, with equal facility, to her book, her work, or her play.

SUCH are the effects of industry, that while the industrious grow rich, the rich, without it, grow poor. The following anecdote is a striking proof of this truth. "A gentleman having an estate in land, of two hundred pounds yearly, kept the whole in his hands. Finding that this did not answer, he was forced to sell half to pay his debts, and let the remainder to a tenant for one and twenty years. To­wards the end of the lease, the tenant ask­ed the landlord, if he would part with his land—"Prithee, tell me," says the land­lord, "how it could be, that I could not [Page 149] live upon twice as much, being my own, and yet that you, having but half, and paying rent for it, have been able in twenty one years to buy it?" "Sir," said the farmer, "when any thing was to be done, you said, go and do it; but I always said, come let us go and do it; and so not only saw my business done, but assisted." The expedience of fixing habits of industry in youth, will be evident, if we consider, that it is by dil­igence, the family of the poor is support­ed, and the mechanic contributes to the convenience of others, or finds his own subsistence. In trade and commerce, for­tunes are acquired, or enjoyments diver­sified, by diligence. It is by diligence, the patriot obtains distinction; the stu­dent acquires knowledge; and man as­sumes the honorable character of pro­found wisdom, or extensive benevolence. The vulgar apprehension of genius is like the vulgar doctrine of predestination: the elect, in both cases, are generally worth­less; they imagine themselves entitled by [Page 150] favor, to advantages, which others must obtain by industry." But the truth is, industry is not only a handmaid of virtue, but the high road to every kind of emi­nence.

IN order to make the activity of youth become a habit of industry, it is necessary to direct it to permanent objects: if the young mind is distracted by a variety of trifles, children will proceed at random; and will be determined to become useful, or otherwise, as circumstances, or the peo­ple with whom they associate, happen to point the way.

FAMILIAR stories, suited to explain and encourage the particular virtues he would recommend to his children, were thought by Mr. Bloomsgrove to have a great effect upon their minds: with these he used often to amuse them, accompany­ing them with interesting remarks suitable to their age.

LETTER XXVIII.

THE following story, which served profitably to amuse a vacant hour, shews the folly of great eagerness after wealth, and, at the same time, holds up to view the best reasons for industry. "At a time, when a spirit raged among many people, for going to South America in quest of golden ore; Roderico had a mind to go among the rest, to seek his fortune. This inclination he communicated to Don Juan, an older brother, to whom he prom­ised an equal share of his riches, if he would go with him. This brother being of a more cool and moderate spirit, en­deavored to dissuade Roderico from an enterprise, in which he would be exposed to great danger, with greater uncertainty of success. Finding him fully bent on going, Don Juan agreed to accompany him; declining, at the same time, to ac­cept any part of the riches he might ac­quire. Roderico sold all he had; and bought a vessel suitable for the business, [Page 152] with necessary utensils for the design, and embarked with his friends and fellow ad­venturers, Rizzio, Alphonso, and others, who were inspired with the like ardor for becoming rich without labor. Don Juan took on board only some tools for hus­bandry; a few camels, with harness for la­bor; some sheep, corn, and seeds of various kinds of vegetables.

"THIS appeared a strange kind of cargo to the seekers of gold.—'Papa,' said Osander, 'is it not better to have gold, than ploughs and sheep, and so have to work hard?'—'Stay a little, my dear,' said Mr. Bloomsgrove, 'and hear the story out.' They arrived at South A­merica, after some difficulty from contrary winds, and a leaky vessel. No sooner had they landed, than Roderico, with his companions, prepared to go in search of gold. Don Juan told his brother he would tarry near the shore until his re­turn. They quite ridiculed his weak­ness, in staying to till the land in a coun­try where gold abounded. Roderico [Page 153] harangued his men upon the occasion, and reproached his brother's weakness in diverting himself with such trifling con­cerns. They all applauded Roderico's spirit, except one old Spaniard, who ex­pressed some doubts whether Don Juan would appear so unwise, in the end, as they now thought him to be. Taking their leave of him, they travelled day after day, thro forests, over mountains, thro vales, and over swift rivers. They were not to be discouraged however by any difficulties. They tried several places without success. At last, after having travelled many days, sometimes scorched with the intense heat of the sun, and at others drenched with violent showers of rain, they found a quantity of ore. Here they labored incessantly until their pro­visions were exhausted. But the ore was so plenty, that they could not think of quitting the ground. They fed on the roots and berries, which they could find. —'Oh, papa,' exclaimed Rozella, 'I wish I had some of those good berries: [Page 154] but could not those poor folks get any thing else to eat? I wish they had some of our good dinner' 'Yes, my dear,' continued he—they caught a few birds and some squirrels; but after they began to melt and refine the ore, they could not find any more of these; and they continued so long, that roots and berries became very scarce. Their labor was so hard and the famine so severe, that several of the company died, and the rest with difficulty returned to the place where they had left Don Juan, and carried with [...]em the gold, which they had acquired, at the expense of so much pain, and with the loss of several lives.

"DON Juan had employed all this time in cultivating a fine spot of interval, which he had pitched upon for that purpose; and which, by the assistance of the labor­ers he carried with him, had now produc­ed an ample crop of potatoes and other things suitable to the climate, and neces­sary to support life. His sheep had brought lambs, and all were in excellent [Page 155] order. He had caught and dried a great quantity of fish; so that he had a plenty of provision. He received his brother very kindly; and inquired how he had succeeded. Roderico informed him, that they had succeeded well in getting gold; but that they were almost starved, and that several of their companions had per­ished from want and hardship. He re­quested his brother, to furnish them with some provision immediately, as they had subsisted several days only on the bark and roots of trees. Don Juan very de­liberately reminded him of their first agree­ment, not to interfere with each other's gains. But added, if he had a mind to buy the fruits of his industry, he could supply some present relief, but not oth­erwise.

"THIS seemed unkind in a brother. But they must either starve with their gold in hand, or part with it to procure provisions at a most exorbitant price. So that their gold was soon gone in procuring the bare necessaries of life. When Roderico and [Page 156] his company had been obliged to give his brother all the gold they had acquired, thro so many miseries, Don Juan pro­posed returning to their native country, from which they had been absent a con­siderable time. But Roderico was so highly offended with his brother, for his conduct, which appeared so cruel, that he declared he would never more go home with a brother who could use him so ill. Upon this Don Juan embraced him af­fectionately and said—'And do you re­ally suppose, my dear brother, that I in­tend to deprive you of the fruits of your arduous and dangerous undertaking?— No: sooner may I cease to reap the fruits of my own industry; and the earth refuse me my daily bread, than I should be guilty of such a piece of conduct. I on­ly wished to correct your impetuous thirst for riches, and to shew you that industry was the sure road to acquire the means of supplying the calls of nature; and that he who had exhausted all his strength in accumulating gold might pine with want. [Page 157] You see that all your gold would not have saved you from perishing, had it not been for my foresight and industry. Here, my brother, take your gold; and go with me to visit our native land, and dear friends; and let them see that you have acquired wisdom as well as gold.' The astonish­ed Roderico acknowledged the superior wisdom, generosity, and goodness of his brother, and declared 'that he now found, from his own experience, that in­dustry was better than gold; and that he would endeavor to shew his friends, on his return, that the wisdom he had learnt from his brother, was of more real value to him, than all the gold he had acquired.'

"EMBRACING his brother in a most cor­dial manner, he begged him to accept half of his riches; but he positively refused, saying—'He that can raise food enough to maintain himself, can never be in want of gold.' Then bidding adieu to several of the people, who chose to tarry longer, they set sail for their native country, where, after a favorable voyage, they safely ar­rived, [Page 158] to the great joy of their numerous friends, and to their mutual satisfaction."

LETTER XXIX.

THE habits of industry not only af­ford a secure guard against vice, but pre­pare the way for the practice of every vir­tue. Of all the virtues which dignify human nature, and distinguish the char­acters of men, benevolence may be con­sidered as the capital. This amiable qual­ity does not stand in opposition to self love, but is an expansion of it. Selfish­ness is opposite to benevolence. This is the root of most of those evils and miseries which societies experience. It regards ourselves to the exclusion of others; and is a desire of possessing, or having domin­ion over more, than we have need of, without any regard to others. This is an evil weed that should be rooted out, or rather prevented by the careful hand of education; and the opposite virtue, a [Page 159] readiness to impart to others, should be nourished with equal care. Among other little anecdotes, by which Mrs. Blooms­grove endeavored to cherish a benevolent disposition in the children when young, was the following.

"A mouse, by accident, coming under the paw of a lion, begged hard for life, urging that clemency was the fairest at­tribute of power. The lion generously set it at liberty. The mouse afterwards observing the lion entangled in the toils of the hunter, flew to his assistance, gnaw­ing the net to pieces, and set him free. Hence an useful lesson: neglect no op­portunity of doing good; for even the lowest may happen to be useful to the highest."

IF we had been intended to be wholly selfish, human life would have been much shorter than it is; for all corporeal pleas­ures, even the most delightful, presently lose their relish; are followed with satiety, and disgust; and can only be preserved by a change of objects; and, even these, [Page 160] soon lose their charms, and novelty itself loses the power of pleasing. It is quite otherwise with benevolence. This, like the well nerved arm, gathers strength by exercise. The oftener we repeat gen­erous actions, the more shall we be in­clined to do them; and our pleasure in doing good will increase in the same pro­portion. The satisfaction it affords is not allayed, even by age, which allays ev­ery other enjoyment. The body may decay, but the pleasure of doing good, when habitual, continues the same even to the last moment of life.

A QUALITY, productive of so many hon­orable and lasting effects, cannot be cul­tivated, in the young mind, with too much care and attention. Children, early in­spired with the benevolent affections, will be superior to the prevalence of selfish gratifications. They will be respectful to superiors; kind to their companions; civil and complaisant to inferiors; charitable to the poor; compassionate to the distress­ed, and ready to assist all in their power; [Page 161] even where there is no prospect of reward, but the satisfaction of doing good.

THIS is very beautifully illustrated, and recommended to universal practice by an ancient parable, which Mrs. Bloomsgrove used to repeat to the children with pecu­liar pleasure, as it inculcated that disin­terested undiscriminating benevolence which regarded not, either nation or re­ligious distinctions in its exertions to do good, and was congenial to her heart. "A traveller, bound from Jerusalem to Jericho, fell into the hands of a band of robbers; who wounded him in a most barbarous manner, leaving him half dead. Two persons of note, from whom might be expected every expression of benevo­lence, travelling the same road, saw him. 'Mamma,' cries the tender hearted Ro­zella, 'did they not take care of the poor man?'—'No, my dear,' continued she; 'they passed by on the other side of the way, and did not shew him the least pity.' 'If I had been there,' interrupted Osand­er (for she allowed them to interrupt her [Page 162] by questions, or observations of their own; when rehearsing to them) 'I would have given him all my money.'—'Very well, my dear, you should always be ready to do good with what you have, and pity those you cannot relieve.' The poor man lay sometime bleeding and weltering in his own gore, without any one to hear his groans, and pity his wretched condi­tion. At last there came along a man, of a different nation and religion from the wounded man: he was not a man of great reputation in the world, and never had an opportunity to shew the full extent of his benevolence. But such an opportunity now offered, and he emb [...]ced it with pleasure. No sooner did he behold the tragical scene, but his indignation rose against the perpetrators of it, and, touch­ed with commiseration, he flew to the re­lief of the unfortunate stranger; and, without inquiring who, or what he was, whether he belonged to Jerusalem or Jericho, he instantly administered neces­sary relief, pouring the oil and wine into [Page 163] his wound, which he had provided for his own use, on the way; set him on his own beast, and carried him'to an inn, where he might be better accommodated; paid the host a sum of money for the present, which, tho small, was all he could possibly spare from his own necessary uses; and became responsible for whatever charges might arise in the course of his entire recovery.

"THIS was genuine benevolence! Here was the friend that loveth at all times, and the brother born for adversity! Go and do likewise, was the injunction, with which the prince of love and good will to men concluded the recital of the above trans­action—That is, imitate the example of this worthy man, in doing good as you have opportunity and ability; and never inquire whether a man is of your kindred, country, or nation, If he stands in need of assistance."

TEACH your children, my dear sir, to practise upon this divinely benevolent scheme; and they will be the delight of [Page 164] their parents, blessings to their friends, and the objects of universal esteem.

LETTER XXX.

IF ever the heart of parents had rea­son to expand with joy, at beholding the good influence of instruction and exam­ple upon their children; Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove had the utmost reason to rejoice in the growth of the benevolent affections in theirs. The principles of benevolence had been early inculcated, by a variety of maxims and actions suited to their age. The little plant had been nourished with great care, was constantly cherished by exercise, and supported by their own example. Nothing could have given them more pleasure, than to see their youthful hearts dilating with this generous quality. Instead of laying out their money for toys or sweetmeats, as most other children did, they kept it to give to poor people, who frequented this [Page 165] hospitable dwelling; or to assist indigent families, in the neighborhood: these they were permitted to visit, accompanied by Fanny; in whom Mrs. Bloomsgrove placed so much confidence, that Rozella was committed to her care in those excur­sions.

THOSE families were very fond of their young visitants; for they used to carry something for their relief, or to gratify their children. Osander, who would sometimes play unlucky tricks, threw stones at a pigeon, which the children of one of those families had tamed, and kill­ed it, while Fanny and Rozella were in the house, distributing the things they had brought for their comfort. As soon as the children knew that their pigeon was killed, there was great lamentation about it. Their mother endeavored to pacify them, telling them, "if it was Osander who had committed the crime (for he had absconded) he did not do it intentionally, and she did not doubt but he would give them another, for she never knew him in­jure [Page 166] the poor, or any body else indeed." The mother's harangue prevailed; the children were quieted. Fanny and Ro­zella, who expressed much sorrow for what had happened, and shed many tears with the poor children, took leave, saying, they would acquaint his papa; and they did not doubt he would make him give them another. When they reached home, they found Osander very pensive, for he had not yet ventured to tell what he had done, tho it had been his practice frankly to confess, when he had commit­ted any mischief; and his mamma did not choose to question him, lest he should be tempted to utter a falsehood. The whole affair was disclosed on their return. His mamma remonstrated against such conduct, and especially, in not confessing it to her, when he first came home. She directed him to take two of his best pul­lets, and go immediately, and make satis­faction for the damage he had done. He cheerfully embraced the terms of peace with them, and by that means found peace [Page 167] in his own mind. He begged his mamma to give him some biscuit and cheese to carry for the children. Being thus equip­ped with the necessary means of a treaty of peace and friendship, he soon reached the spot, and settled every thing to mutu­al satisfaction.

THE pleasure of doing good, is the no­blest reward which generous minds can receive from beneficent actions: this is a reward, which time cannot change, rust corrupt, nor thieves break thro and steal. With this sense then, should the young mind be inspired; and, by this considera­tion, it should be exercised in acts of be­neficence. I cannot but think that Mr. Locke's plan, for making children charit­able, has a greater tendency to make them selfish and covetous, than to inspire true benevolence and generosity. Speaking of liberality, in the use of what they pos­sess, and of rooting out the opposite prin­ple, covetousness, he says—

"THIS should be encouraged by great commendation and credit, and constantly [Page 168] taking care, that the child loses nothing by his liberality. Let all the instances he gives of such freeness, be always repaid with interest; and let him sensibly per­ceive that the kindness, he shews to others, is no ill husbandry for himself; but that it brings a return of kindness, both from those who receive it and those who look on."—Sect. 110. But if all men acted upon this principle, what must have been the fate of the unfortunate man who lay wounded, helpless, and alone in the dreary pass between Jerusalem and Jericho? Habitual good actions, prompted only by the prospect of gain, will, like untimely fruit, drop off when no longer nourished by such hopes; and the secret alms will cease to rise as a memorial of heartfelt be­nevolence before God.

THE following method has been pro­posed, by Lord Kaimes, to habituate children to a humane and generous dis­position. "Give to each of your child­ren, a small sum for charity. Let them account to you for the disposal; and to [Page 169] the child, who has made the most judi­cious distribution, give double the sum, to be laid out in the same way," Certain it is, that such actions deserve great ap­plause; and it is as certain, that a benev­olent disposition may be increased by re­peating them. Compassion and tender­ness should be so cherished in children, as that they will part without reluctance with their own property, even that of which they were very fond, to relieve the distressed. "The Earl of Elgin permit­ted his two sons, in their hours of play, to associate with the boys in the neighbor­hood, which he thought better, than to have them exposed to be corrupted at home by his servants, filling them with notions of their rank and quality. One day, the two boys being called to dinner, a young lad, their companion, said, 'I'll wait till you return, as there is no dinner at home for me.' Have you no money to buy it? 'No.' 'Papa, says the eld­est, what was the price of the silver buc­kles you gave me?' 'Five shillings.' [Page 170] 'Let me have the money, and I'll give you the buckles.' It was done accord­ingly. The Earl, inquiring privately, found that the money had been given to the lad. The buckles were returned, and the boy was highly commended for being so kind to his companions."

THE following instance of generosity, no less deserves notice: One day, as O­sander was going with Fanny and his lit­tle sister, on one of their charitable excur­sions to see a poor family; passing thro an extensive vale, they came to an hazel copse, where they found one of the child­ren picking some raspberries. As they approached him, he began to cry: they asked what he cried for; he told them that his mamma, his brother, and one of his sisters, were very sick and had nothing to eat. They accompanied him to the house, or rather the hut; and, to their great surprise, they found the two child­ren sick in a little open place, with very little to refresh, or cover them; and their mother scarce able to do any thing for [Page 171] them, or for herself; and her husband gone abroad to hard labor, in order to get something for them, but could not be at home till night. Struck with the ap­pearance of poverty and distress in this dreary abode, the visitants could afford them but little aid, at this time, except their sympathetic tears, of which they were very liberal. They hasten home, that they may relate the melancholy tale; and procure some effectual means of re­lief. They all speak as one; and each is eager to be foremost in telling what they had seen, and in offering some of their own things for the relief of this poor family. Fanny, Osander, and Rozella, all declare that they are willing to part with any of their things, if they may go and carry them.

LIBERALITY appeared so blended with sympathy in this triplicate of almoners, whose only strife was to excel each other in acts of generosity, that it drew tears of joy from Mrs. Bloomsgrove's eyes, while her heart glowed with compassion for the [Page 172] poor and distressed. That the ardor of their benevolent feelings might not be damped, and that they might experience the pleasure of their own actions, she per­mitted them to carry some of their own clothing and bed furniture, assuring them that they did well, but that they must not expect her to replace them again: they all declare, with one voice, that they did not wish it. A servant was dispatched, to be the carrier of the goods, with some jel­lies, pottage, and such other things as Mrs. Bloomsgrove thought most suitable for them. Never was charity bestowed more opportunely, or with a better grace; nor received with more apparent gratitude. The offering was made with as much avid­ity as it could be received; and it would have been difficult from appearances, to say, who were most blest, the giver or the receivers.

AMONG the many pictures of distress presented to their minds, in order to ex­cite compassion, and keep alive the benev­olent affections, the following deserves notice▪

[Page 173]"THE minister of a country village was called to officiate in a cottage which was situated on a lonely common. As it was the midst of winter, and the floods were out, it was absolutely necessary to wade, thro the lower room, to a ladder, which served instead of stairs. The chamber (and it was the only one) was so low, that he could not stand upright in it; there was one window which admitted the air as freely as the light, for the rags which had been stuffed into the broken panes were now taken out to contribute to the covering of a newborn infant. In a dark corner of the room stood a small bedstead without furniture, and on it lay the dead mother, who had just expired in labor for want of proper assistance.

"THE father was sitting on a little stool by the fire place, tho there was no fire, and endeavoring to keep the infant warm in his bosom; five of the seven children, half naked, were asking their father for a piece of bread, while a fine boy, of about three years old, was standing by his moth­er [Page 174] at the bedside, crying, as he was wont to do, 'Take me, take me, mammy.' 'Mammy is asleep,' said one of his sis­ters, with cheeks bedewed with tears; 'Mammy is asleep, Johnny; go play with the baby on daddy's knee.'

"THE father took him upon his knee, and his grief which had hitherto kept him dumb, and in a state of temporary insens­ibility, burst out in a torrent of tears, and relieved his heart which seemed ready to break. 'Don't cry, pray don't cry,' said the eldest boy, 'the nurse is coming up stairs with a two penny loaf in her hand, and mammy will wake presently, and I will carry her the largest piece.' Upon this, an old woman crooked with age, and clothed in tatters, came hobbling on her little stick into the room, and af­ter heaving a groan, calmly sat down and dressed the child in its rags; then divided the loaf as far as it would go. Some re­lief was soon sent by those to whom the old woman had applied. And afterwards a little contribution was raised by the in­terposition [Page 175] of the clergyman, who would scarcely have believed the affair, had he not have been an eye witness to it."

LETTER XXXI.

GRATITUDE is a virtue nearly allied to benevolence; they grow in the same soil; and both indicate generosity and docility of mind. Gratitude is a sentiment natural to man. But, like all other native qualities, must be cherished and brought on to perfection, or it will decay; and, by mismanagement, may be destroyed. Nothing is more natural than to love those who do us service; and a child, when it begins to perceive the ben­efit of your care, will soon be sensible of the obligation; and you can by this means acquire an authority over his heart which cannot be shaken. "Ingratitude, says Rousseau, would be more rare, if benefits upon usury were less common. The heart of man is self interested, but never un­grateful; [Page 176] and the obliged are less to be charged with ingratitude, than their bene­factors with self interest. If you sell me your favors, let us settle the price; but if you pretend to give, and afterwards ex­pect to make terms with me, you are guilty of fraud; it is their being given gratis which render them inestimable." A benefit which has the good of the re­ceiver in view, and does not appear to be designed for the emolument of the bene­factor, seldom fails to inspire gratitude.

IT is difficult to explain this virtue and the obligations of it to children. But the period of life, in which our young master and his sister are at this time, does not re­quire much reasoning; but familiarity to illustrate by some happy allusions, or in­stances, wherein they can see the opera­tion of the virtue that is recommended. The habits of a grateful temper may be laid in childhood, by always watching over the actions of children, and making them careful to return the favors they receive from one another, at least by acknowledg­ments. [Page 177] Mr. Bloomsgrove, being a very domestic man, spent many of his leisure hours in the little circle of his family; al­ways accommodating his conversation to their capacity; and relating the instruct­ive anecdotes which he met with, for their amusement and instruction. On the even­ing after they had relieved the poor fam­ily mentioned in my last, he returned from —, where he had been to decide a cause of great magnitude: they informed him of the whole affair; and begged him to let Sancho, a man servant, go down in the morning and carry them some more things; "for, say they, the poor woman was very thankful for what we carried her." "So she ought to be, said he; and you, my dear, should be thankful that it was in your power to relieve her; and it may be in her's one day or other to do as great a kindness to you, and if her gratitude is sincere, she will gladly embrace the oppor­tunity." They were surprised that he should think it possible that so great a change could ever take place. "I have in [Page 178] this magazine which I this day received from London, said he, a most extraordi­nary instance of gratitude, which I will read to you." He then read, to his list­ening and astonished audience, a story which I will forward to you by the next post.

LETTER XXXII.

"A VENETIAN ship having tak­en a number of the Turks prisoners, sold them, according to their barbarous custom, to different persons in the ciry. One of those slaves, named Ibraim, lived near the house of a Venetian merchant who was very rich, and had but one son, a lad of about twelve. As he had occasion fre­quently to pass Ibraim, he would stop and look very earnestly at him. Ibraim observing in the lad an appearance of be­nevolence and tenderness, was greatly pleased with him, and sought to have his company more frequently. The lad took [Page 179] such a fancy to the slave, that he renewed his visits much oftener than he had done, and brought him presents for his relief and comfort. But tho Ibraim appeared always to be pleased with the innocent caresses of his young friend, yet he ob­served Ibraim was very sorrowful some­times; and even shed tears. Afflicted by the repeated appearance of grief and sor­row of heart, he at length requested his father to make Ibraim happy if it was in his power.

"THE father, pleased with this instance of generosity in his son, determined to see the Turk himself, and inquire into the cause of his sadness. The next day he went to see him, and looking at him for some time, was struck with the mildness and honesty of his countenance. He at length said to him, 'Art thou Ibraim, of whose courtesy and gentleness my little son has spoken to me?' 'I am the un­fortunate Ibraim, who have been now three years a captive: during that space of time this youth is the only human be­ing [Page 180] that seems to have felt any compas­sion for my sufferings; I must confess therefore he is the only object to which I am attached in this barbarous country; and night and morning I pray that pow­er, who is equally the God of the Turks and Christians, to grant him every blessing he deserves, and to preserve him from all the miseries I suffer.' 'Indeed, Ibraim,' said the merchant, 'he is much obliged to you, altho from his present circumstances, he does not appear much exposed to dan­ger. Tell me in what I can assist you? for my son informs me that he often finds you in sorrow and tears.' 'And is it strange,' said the Turk, 'that I should pine in silence and be the prey of contin­ual regret and sorrow, who am bereft of my liberty, the noblest gift of heaven?' 'And yet how many thousands of our nation,' said the Venetian, 'do you re­tain in chains?' 'I have never been guilty of the inhuman practice of enslav­ing my fellow creatures,' replied the Turk; 'I have never increased my prop­erty [Page 181] by despoiling the Venetian merchants of theirs; for the cruelty of my country­men I am not accountable, more than you are for the barbarity of yours.'—A swell­ing tear started from his eye, and bedew­ed his manly cheek.—Recollecting him­self immediately, and smiting gently on his breast, he bowed with reverence, and said, 'God is good, and man must submit to his decrees.' Affected with this ap­pearance of manly fortitude, the merchant said, 'Ibraim, I pity your sufferings, and perhaps I may be able to relieve you. What would you do to regain your liber­ty?' 'I would,' said he, 'meet every pain and danger that can appal the heart of man.' 'The means of your deliver­ance,' said the merchant, 'are certain, without so great a trial. I have in this city an inveterate enemy who has offered me every insult and injury that malice could invent; but he is as brave as he is haughty, and I have never dared resent them as they have deserved. Here, Ibra­im, is the instrument of your deliverance; [Page 182] take this dagger; and when night has drawn her sable curtain over the city, go with me, avenge me of mine adversary, and you shall be free.'

"INDIGNANT at the idea of being an assassin, he rejected the proposal with dis­dain; and raising his fettered arm as high as his chain would admit of, he swore by the mighty prophet, Mahomet, 'that he would not stoop to so vile a deed, to purchase the freedom of all his race.' The Venetian left him, adding, quite de­liberately, 'You will think better of this perhaps by the next time I visit you.'

"RETURNING the next day with his son, he accosted Ibraim mildly, telling him, that tho he rejected his proposal be­fore, he doubted not but he might now be convinced. 'Insult not the misera­ble,' interrupted Ibraim warmly, 'with proposals more shocking than the chains I wear. Know, Christian, that if thy re­ligion permits such deeds, every true Ma­hometan views them with indignation. From this moment therefore let us break [Page 183] off all intercourse, and be forever strangers to each other.'—'No,' answered the mer­chant, embracing Ibraim, 'let us be more strongly united than ever!—Pardon me this unnecessary trial of thy virtue. Mazza­rino has a soul as averse to deeds of treach­ery and blood as Ibraim himself. From this moment, generous man, thou art free: thy ransom is already paid, with no other obligation than that of remembering the affection of this thy young and faithful friend; and perhaps, hereafter, when thou seest an unhappy Christian groaning in Turkish fetters, thy generosity may make thee think of Venice.'

"LANGUAGE cannot paint the ecstacy of joy and gratitude, which Ibraim felt at intelligence so agreeable, but unexpected. It is unnecessary to repeat the many and warm expressions of gratitude, which he uttered as soon as the first tide of joy had so abated as to give him utterance. He was set free that very day, and Mazzarino put him on board a vessel bound to one of the Grecian Islands, bade him an af­fectionate [Page 184] adieu, putting a purse of gold into his hands to bear his expenses, and wishing him every blessing. Their pray­ers and benedictions were mutual; for Ibraim regretted the separation from such a friend, whose disinterested goodness had set him at liberty, and with tears and prayers bade him a long farewel.

"ABOUT six months after this an acci­dent took place, which had well nigh de­prived the Venetian merchant of all his hopes. Early in the morning of one of their Saint's days, while the family were locked in profound sleep, the house had taken fire, which had made a gradual progress, and nearly involved the whole in flame, before it was discovered. Scarce had the merchant been apprized of his danger in time to escape the awful con­flagration; and no sooner had he escaped with the servants who awoke him, than he inquired for his son. What a tumult of agony and despair rent his breast, when informed that, in the general consterna­tion, he had been forgotten, and was now [Page 185] alone in an upper room? He would have rushed headlong into the flames in a fruit­less search for his son, had not his servants restrained him. He offered half his estate to the intrepid man who would undertake the dangerous attempt of saving his son. Tempted by the greatness of the reward, ladders were immediately raised and sev­eral daring spirits made the attempt, but were forced back by the violence of the flames. Upon the battlements of the house, the unhappy youth now appeared, with extended arms, imploring aid, and seemed devoted to inevitable destruction. The father, beholding the imploring son, and the certain fate that awaited him, sunk under the weight of the dreadful prospect, and became totally insensible. In this moment of dreadful suspense, a man rushing thro the croud, with a coun­tenance indicating the most determined resolution, ascended a ladder, and was soon enveloped in a cloud of smoke. Lost to all appearance, the gazing multi­tude below supposed he must perish in [Page 186] the flames. What then must have been their astonishment, when they beheld him issuing forth with the lad in his arms, and descend the ladder, to revive the heart of an almost expiring parent? Or what must have been his feelings, when he recovered his senses, at beholding in his own arms the darling of his heart, whom he had giv­en up for lost?—Tenderly embracing his son, he earnestly inquired for the man who dared risk his own life to save his son. They shewed him a man of noble stature, but meanly clad, covered with smoke and scorched with heat, and all as one declared he was the intrepid adven­turer who had saved his son.

"MAZZARINO, presenting him a purse of gold, requested his acceptance of that till he could make good his promise, which should be done the next day. 'No,' re­plied the stranger, 'I do not sell my blood. The pleasure of saving your son is a re­ward greater than all your riches could give.' 'Generous man!' cried the mer­chant, 'thy voice, sure, is not strange to [Page 187] me!—It is'—'Yes,' exclaimed the son, throwing himself into the arms of his de­liverer—'it is my Ibraim!' Nothing could exceed the astonishment and grat­itude of Mazzarino, to behold the deliv­erer of his son in the person of Ibraim. Taking his benefactor with him to anoth­er house of his, in a different part of the city, he inquired how he came into slavery a second time, and why he had not made him acquainted with his condition. 'That captivity which has given me an oppor­tunity of shewing that I was not altogeth­er undeserving thy kindness, and of pre­serving that dear youth, I shall ever reck­on amongst the happiest events of my life,' replied the generous Turk. 'But,' continued he, 'I will relate you the whole affair.

'I BELIEVE you never were made ac­quainted with the circumstance of my aged father being a sharer with me in my captivity. Taken together by your gal­lies, we were sold to different masters. Those tears of sorrow, which so attracted [Page 188] the notice of your generous little son, were shed on account of the hard fate of my aged sire; and no sooner was I set free by your unexampled bounty, than I went in search of the Christian who had made him a slave. Having found him, I offer­ed myself in his stead, that he might go back and let his declining sun set calm and serene in his own country and amidst the tender care of surrounding friends. At length I prevailed on the Christian, by adding the purse of gold your bounty had supplied me with, to permit my fa­ther to go back in the vessel which was intended for me, without acquainting him with the means of his freedom. Since that time I have continued here, a willing slave, to pay the debt of nature and of gratitude.'

"IBRAIM ceased—The Venetian ex­pressed great astonishment at such eleva­tion of mind; and pressed him to accept the offer of half his estate, and to spend the remainder of his days in Venice. Ibraim assured his friend, that what he [Page 189] had done was nothing more than the ob­ligations of gratitude and friendship re­quired; and therefore he must decline accepting any further recompense than that of reflecting that he was not ungrate­ful. The merchant, solicitous to make some returns worthy of so much greatness of soul, once more purchased his freedom, and freighted a ship on purpose to send him back to his own country. Most af­fectionately did he and his son embrace their deliverer, and accompanying him to the ship, they once more bade a last adieu, remaining on the shore until the ship lost itself under the horizon, and sending for­ward their ardent prayers for a safe and prosperous voyage.

"MANY years having now elapsed, dur­ing which time no intelligence had been received of Ibraim, the young Mazzarino had grown up, and become the most ac­complished, amiable youth of his age and rank. Having some business in a mari­time town at some distance, which required dispatch in getting thither, he embarked, [Page 190] with his father, on board a Venetian vessel going to that place. The winds favored their views; they had gained more than half their voyage, with a fine prospect of securing their whole passage, when a Turkish corsair was suddenly discovered bearing down upon them; from which they soon found it would be impossible to escape. Fear and consternation seized the greater part of the crew, and they soon gave all over for lost. But the young Mazzarino, drawing his sword, reproach­ed them for their cowardice; and, by his manly courage and speeches, roused them to defend their liberties by one great ef­fort. The corsair approached in awful silence, till within reach of the Venetian ship, when on a sudden the very heavens were rent by the noise of the artillery, and the whole atmosphere wrapt in smoke. Thrice did the Turks essay, with horrid shouts, to board the Venetian ship: as often were they repelled by the well timed firmness of young Mazzarino and the crew inspired by his courage. Having lost [Page 191] many of their men, and seeing no prospect of carrying their point, they, the Turks, began to draw off; and would have left the Venetians to pursue their voyage, had not two other ships of their own nation, that instant, made their appearance, bear­ing down towards them with great swift­ness. Upon their near approach, the Venetians, seeing no possibility of escape, and that resistance would be madness, gave the sign for surrendering the ship, and soon saw themselves deprived of liberty, and loaded with irons. In this situation were they carried to Tunis, where they were brought forth and exposed in the public market to be sold for slaves. One after another of their companions were picked out, according to their strength and vigor, and sold to different masters. A Turk of uncommon dignity in his figure and manners, at length came towards the captives, and surveying them with com­passion and tenderness, applied to the cap­tain for young Mazzarino, and inquired the price of this captive. The captain [Page 192] set a much higher price upon him, than he had done upon any of the others. The gentleman, a little surprised at the exor­bitant sum, asked the reason of this great distinction. The captain replied that he had animated the Christians to the despe­rate resistance they had made; and had been the occasion of most of the damage they had sustained; and he was now de­termined to make him repay some of it, or he would gratify his revenge by seeing him drudge for life in his victorious gal­ley. All this time had the young Maz­zarino fixed his eyes in a dumb silence on the ground; and now lifting them up, be­held, in the person who was talking with the captain, the manly and open countenance of Ibraim. Mazzarino cried out, 'Oh! my friend Ibraim.' No less astonished was the Turk, to find in the person of the captive his former companion and friend. He embraced him with the transports of a parent who unexpectedly recovers a long lost child. But when Ibraim found that his Venetian benefactor and deliver­er [Page 193] was among the captives, he could no longer restrain the violence of his feelings: he burst into a flood of sorrow for the mis­fortune of his friend: but recovering him­self, exclaimed, with uplifted hands, 'bless­ed be that providence which has made me the instrument of safety to my ancient benefactor.' Being informed where he should find him, he instantly repaired to the part of the market where Mazzarino stood waiting his fate in manly, but silent despair. They were immediately known to each other. Their first interview was obstructed by the fulness of their joy. As soon as he was able, the Turk hailed him, friend, benefactor, and by every endear­ing name which friendship and gratitude could inspire; ordered his chains instant­ly to be taken off, and conducted them both to his own magnificent house in the city.

"AFTER some preliminary conversation upon their mutual fortunes, by which they were again brought to see each other in their present condition, Ibraim inform­ed [Page 194] them, that soon after their goodness had restored him to his own country, he accepted a command in the Turkish arm­ies; and that having the good fortune to distinguish himself upon several occasions, he had gradually been promoted, thro va­rious offices, to the dignity of Bashaw of Tunis. 'Since I have enjoyed this post,' added he, 'there is nothing which I find in it so agreeable, as the power it gives me of alleviating the misfortunes of those unhappy Christians who are taken pris­oners by our corsairs. Whenever a ship arrives, which brings with it any of those sufferers, I constantly visit the markets, and redeem a certain number of captives, whom I restore to liberty: and gracious Allah has shewn that he approves of these faint endeavors to discharge the sacred duties of gratitude for my own redemp­tion, by putting it in my power to serve the best and dearest of men.'

"AFTER having passed about ten days in the house of Ibraim in a most agreeable manner, Mazzarino and his son were em­barked [Page 195] on board of a ship bound to Ve­nice. Ibraim dismissed them with great reluctance, but with many embraces; and ordered a chosen party of his own guards to conduct them on board their vessel. Their joy was greatly increased, when, on their arrival at the ship, they found that the generosity of Ibraim had not been con­fined to themselves, but that the ship which had been taken, with all the crew, were redeemed, and restored to freedom. Mazzarino and his son embarked, and, after a prosperous voyage, arrived safely in their own country, where they lived many years respected and esteemed, con­tinually mindful of the vicissitudes of life, and attentive to discharge their duties to their fellow creatures."

LETTER XXXIII.

CAN you, my friend, after being feasted with such great and excellent vir­tues, relish the language of childhood, and [Page 196] be pleased with the relations of infantile transactions? If not, I fear you will not give the following letter a cordial recep­tion. But you should recollect, that childhood is the period in which the foundation of the greatest virtues is laid. It is, then, as necessary to cultivate the first principles of them in the young mind, as to cherish the seed that is deposited in the earth in order to ensure a future har­vest: and, like the seed which contains all the shades that expand in the flower, child­ren are possessed of all the qualities of men and women in miniature: to expand these is the business of education.

A CIRCUMSTANCE in the management of their domestic concerns, in the Blooms­grove family, which I think worthy of notice in this place, is the confidence they reposed in the children. The voice of undoubted friendship has a great influ­ence over the human heart. When pa­rents have, by their prudent management with their children, convinced them that their good has been the object of all their [Page 197] care, even of the punishments they have inflicted, so as to cherish the natural spark of gratitude, they may venture to make them their confidents, both of secrets and of their interest. A greater inducement to fidelity, either in children or servants, can hardly be conceived of, than to be thought trust worthy. It lays hold of the best affections of human nature, the gen­erous and grateful feelings; and gains an ascendency over the mind which an ex­ertion of authority could not effect; and will afford an effectual security against betraying the trust reposed.

IT is necessary, however, always to pro­portion the magnitude of the trust to the age and fortitude of the child; otherwise it will corrupt the little heart, which it was designed to fortify. Things commit­ted to children in confidence, which are in their nature a strong temptation, will only teach them artful evasions; for they will comply with the temptation, and then rack their invention to prevent the dis­covery, or to apologize for the transgres­sion. [Page 198] A child must be trained to fidelity by slow and gentle steps; and by a habit of being faithful in trifling concerns when young, it will be able to keep a secret; or be faithful to any trust, at seven or eight years old, which one of fourteen would betray, who had never been accustomed to confidence. Let the first commission to a child be small, and of such a nature as may easily be kept: approve the faith­fulness, and encourage it by suitable re­wards: increase by degrees, the trust; and let the accomplishment of it always be commended, and rewarded with still great­er confidence.

AT a breach of trust, in either of the children, Mrs. Bloomsgrove expresses much surprise and indignation: she de­clines trusting the faithless child again, until, by a due course of discipline, it is sufficiently humbled; but takes care not to mortify it too long. She lets the de­linquent see that she still confides in its resolution and integrity. She appears to forget the former failure; but keeps it [Page 199] alive in the child's mind, by more fre­quently calling it to account, without any apparent concern about its fidelity. When, by repeated trial, the habit of fidelity is well fixed, and a good degree of self command acquired, you may ven­ture almost any thing in such hands. It is proper to approve and appear highly pleased with the good conduct of child­ren, especially their fidelity; but not to praise them too highly, because it is an act of indispensable obligation; and if too much praised, the child may become more eager after applause, than desirous of meriting esteem and approbation; to the pleasures of which they should be early accustomed.

OSANDER, at the age of five, was al­lowed to go into the garden, and pick up the cherries which had fallen, provided he meddled not with the white currants; and sometimes he was sent to gather a few of both, but charged not to eat any of either, until the gentleman who had called to see his papa was refreshed. Being one day [Page 200] detected in transgressing the conditions, he was not suffered to go into the garden all that day, nor to eat any fruit from it. At eight years old, he was intrusted with a small sum of money, which he was told to keep, until a person to whom it was due, should call for it, and it was enjoined upon him to remember, that this confi­dence was placed in him, because he had been honest in other cases, and it was not doubted but he would be so in the present. The money was accordingly delivered up, at call, in about five days: greater sums were afterwards committed to his care, and continued a longer time; until he might be intrusted with any sum. When he goes abroad, the hour is given him for returning; if he abuses the liberty he en­joys, it is taken from him for a time.

ROZELLA was permitted to go to her mamma's closet as soon as she was big enough to turn a key. She is told to take a piece of rusk for herself, and to bring the cheesecakes for the company; she is faithful; but she has been accustomed to [Page 201] this restraint by being tried in smaller things. At eight years old she never thought of touching any forbidden fruit. Indeed, she appears to prefer her mam­ma's approbation to every other pleasure. Girls are holden much more strongly by those ties than boys, if we may judge by comparison between these two; for O­sander more frequently betrays the trust reposed in him, than his sister, tho it is a rare thing in either of them. The prin­ciple being early implanted, and the habits of fidelity being cherished with great care, they were never shaken afterwards. Fan­ny improved by her care of Rozella, who was committed to her as a valuable de­posit. The care of Rozella's clothes was given to her; sometimes she was directed to instruct her in reading and work; fre­quently, to assist in dressing and undress­ing. The vulgar observation, that wo­men are not able to keep a secret, has no foundation in nature; but must be whol­ly ascribed to their not being inured to it when young. They are naturally volu­ble, [Page 202] have a sprightly imagination, and an easy flow of words: for the sake of exer­cising such agreeable talents, which they find command attention, they may inad­vertently divulge a secret. But if early accustomed to restraint, and to the habit of making their mind the secure deposit of a secret, there can be no doubt that it might be as perfectly safe with them, as with our sex.

LETTER XXXIV.

CURIOSITY is that propensity to acquire knowledge, which leads children to inquire the names, properties, and re­lations of things; to refer appearances to causes; to sort ideas, and distinguish truth. This desire of knowledge operates power­fully in children, and is a most useful en­gine of improvement. To stimulate and direct this affection, "which seems to be created by the affinity of external objects [Page 203] and the senses affected by them," is an early and necessary branch of education. It was, therefore, a maxim with these pa­rents to indulge their children in asking questions for information; and to en­courage the exertion of this faculty by proper answers. To check these inquir­ies by severity, or pervert them by false, or evasive answers, would be to stint a natural plant, which requires culture in order to bring it to perfection. Child­ren should be answered according to their capacity; nor should their ardor to be­come acquainted with things be damped, by laughing at their simple questions. This would discourage them from asking again, lest their question should be an im­proper one. By kindly attending to their questions, and giving them plain intelli­gible answers, their minds will be constant­ly enlarging; the answer to one question will suggest to them another, and help their invention; at the same time it will add to their stock of knowledge.

[Page 204]BY neglecting this means of informa­tion, they will be encouraged in negli­gence and inattention. By receiving evasive or deceitful answers, to get rid of the trouble of giving them the informa­tion they seek, art, dissimulation, and falsehood will be cherished. The great curiosity of children appears in their fond­ness for stories; and the use which may be made of this appetite, appears from the deep impressions which idle and ground­less stories of ghosts and apparitions, make on the mind. Impressions favorable to virtue may be made with equal ease, by familiar stories founded on fact, and suit­ed to promote any of the virtues. Those pictures of real characters; of virtues to be imitated, and vices to be avoided, are to be viewed as the best sources of instruc­tion and entertainment to children.

MRS. Bloomsgrove used to select a num­ber of the most striking pictures of vir­tue and vice from the sacred history, which she dressed up in language suited to the capacities of the children: these, [Page 205] they committed to memory and repeated to her, both for lessons of virtue, and for the sake of improvement in the art of speaking. In this she imitated Cornelia, the mother of the Roman Gracchi, who owed to her instruction that elocution by which the greatest effects were produced.

AT the age of twelve, Osander could not conceive of a greater pleasure, or en­tertainment, than to hear his mamma re­late the history of Joseph with its various circumstances. While the little bosom of Rozella heaves with grief for his fate, and the falling tear bedews her rosy cheek; Osander's heart swells with indignation at the cruelty of his brothers, and melts at the generous treatment he afterwards shewed them when in distress; and Fan­ny's gentle spirit cannot withhold the tear of sympathy on the occasion.

BY this single story, the love of benev­olence, justice, and fraternal kindness; and indignation against their opposites, are awakened in every breast. A desire to imitate the one and avoid the other, [Page 206] glows in their hearts, while the relation goes on. Accustomed to have those pas­sions excited by such pictures presented to the mind, they became fixed and per­manent qualities. I know many mothers who take great pains to instruct their children in the knowledge of the scrip­tures, and to impress their minds with a reverence for them, by similar methods. By these means they are presented with the best models of virtue; which is al­ways a pleasing mode of instruction, and excites at the same time a love of imita­tion: and as long as the curiosity is grat­ified, instruction will go on with rapidity, and the heart will be beguiled to virtue, and the affections directed to their proper objects.

LETTER XXXV.

"IN the nature of some individuals, says Lord Kaimes, there is a disposition to cruelty. Strong symptoms of it appear [Page 207] in childhood, during which period there is nothing hid. It is not uncommon in a child, after caressing its favorite puppy, to kick and beat it; or after stroking a spar­row, to pull off its head. I have seen a little girl, after spending hours in dressing her doll, throw it out of the window in a sudden fit. This disease is not easily cured, because, like the king's evil, it is kept secret: I know of no cure so effect­ual, as to inure a child of this temper, to objects of pity and concern. Such ob­jects frequently presented, and at proper times, may give a turn to the distemper, and make it yield to humanity. Such fits of cruelty, however, are far from being general. There are many children, who having no malice in their composition, are invariably kind to their favorites, and charitable to persons in want."

NOTWITHSTANDING this appearance of cruelty in some children, and a small degree of it in most, yet sympathy is a native affection, which, for its strength, may be ranked with the first class of hu­man [Page 208] propensities. It is not only a strong but a pleasing affection, and requires to be cherished with particular attention; for without this care it may be destroyed. There is in children a curiosity to see an­imals slain, and a pleasure in triumphing over their agonies, which has a most dan­gerous tendency upon the fine feelings of human nature. The spasms which are brought on the expiring animal, by the approach of death, afford them sport, not because it feels pain, but because of the novelty of the scene. They have no idea of those emotions having any connexion with pain. They see the relentless exe­cutioner put his knife to the throat of an innocent lamb with as little concern, as a lady does her needle into a piece of gauze; and have, when quite young, no more idea of pain in one case than in the other. Horrid lesson of cruelty to the young and tender mind! How easy and natural for children to transfer this into their own practice by tormenting the lit­tle animals and insects, which fall into [Page 209] their hands? This, by a habit of hardi­ness, becomes cruelty to their mates.

THE cruel disposition, or detestable character, of Domitian, had been formed by his favorite amusement of killing flies.

SOME have supposed that cruelty is the effect of the use of flesh. This sentiment is founded on a supposed difference, in this respect, between those nations who use it, and those who do not.

THE use of this substantial diet may probably be assigned as the physical cause of strength and robustness of constitution; but this is not incompatible with tender­ness. The custom of suffering children to see those scen [...]s, when very young; their hearing frequent conversation on the subject of bloodshed, and soon reading histories of war and carnage; and finding the greatest murderers of mankind have more renown than their greatest benefac­tors, will furnish a sufficient reason, with­out seeking for any physical cause, I may venture to affirm, that sympathy is natural to man; and that cruelty is, in general, a [Page 210] disposition created by improper manage­ment, derived from example, and con­firmed by habit.

OSANDER, when a child, was kept from those sights which have a tendency to brutalize the mind. He was not suffered to read the history of battles, where the agreeableness of the narrative would ren­der the slaughter a pleasing scene; and, as history is principally occupied with such relations, he read very little of it, until his judgment was considerably ma­tured. By sometimes seeing objects of human distress, and frequently making the little excursions already mentioned among the poor of the neighborhood, his sym­pathy was kept alive and rendered more sensible. Rozella, who was all sympathy, at about seven years of age, was riding with her mamma, and unfortunately they passed a farmer's yard, just as he was in the act of killing a lamb. Affrighted at the sight, she said, "Mamma, what is that man doing with that poor little lamb?" "He is going, my dear, to kill it, to eat, I [Page 211] suppose." The reply was rather inad­vertent; for till now Rozella had never connected the idea of eating meat with the destruction of the animal. It was the subject of conversation all the way home, and it was a long time before the impres­sion was so effaced, as that she would taste it again.

SHE was permitted to have a bird, or a squirrel; and her brother to have a dog; only on condition that they would take care of them, and not let them suffer for want, or by abuse. When they failed in a proper care and tenderness for them, they were reproved for being so unkind, and the animal taken away. They were never suffered to kill insects for sport. They did not, however, carry humanity to the ridiculous extreme, which is relat­ed of Bellarmine, a Romish saint, who is said patiently to have suffered fleas and other vermin to prey upon him; saying, "We shall have a heaven to reward us for our sufferings; but these poor crea­tures have only the enjoyment of the pres­ent [Page 212] life." Insects which usually suffer death, for their presumption in invading the houses of mortals, their mamma taught them to sweep out at the door, saying, "It is an innocent creature, my dear, do not hurt it; is not the world wide enough for you both?"

BY these lessons, joined to he own ex­ample, she taught them tenderness towards every thing that has life. That tender feeling towards other's sufferings, which, in its several degrees, extends itself to other animals of creation, from our fellow creature to the lowest reptile, is a quality infinitely superior to all the embellish­ments of the most refined education. The knowledge and practice of this is a most useful part of domestic instruction.

IT has been remarked, I believe with great propriety, that young people, early corrupted, and addicted to debauchery, are inhuman and cruel. The heat of their constitution renders them impatient, vin­dictive, and impetuous: their imagination, engrossed by one particular object, rejects [Page 213] every other: they have neither tender­ness nor pity, and would sacrifice father, mother, and all the world, to the most trifling gratification. On the contrary, a youth, educated in simplicity and inno­cence, is inclined to the tender passions by the first impulse of nature. His sympa­thetic heart feels the sufferings of his fel­low creatures: it leaps with joy at the unexpected sight of a beloved companion. He is sensible of shame, for giving dis­pleasure; of regret, for having offended. Compassion, clemency, and generosity, mark the sensibility of his heart, and pro­duce the happiest effects in society.

THE early regulation of this affection in the youthful breast of our little master and his sist [...], greatly facilitated that of another, equally important in domestic education, and which comes next in course.

LETTER XXXVI.

IT was a maxim with these worthy parents, that in every stage of domestic education, children should be disciplined to restrain their appetites and desires. They thought, therefore, that they could not begin too early to check the desire which children have for gewgaws and toys, and to accustom them to restraint and self command. In order to do this effectually, it is necessary to preserve that lively sensibility, and those sympathetic affections, of which I spake, in my last. The heart in which this delicate sense is kept alive, will not be unyielding to re­straint and self denial.

IN a world like this, and with passions like ours, what can be more useful and necessary, than the power of restraining our appetites? The objects of sense which surround us on every side, are suited to awaken desire, and desire pushes us on to gratification; but this cannot always be [Page 215] attained. The preservation of health and of tranquillity often forbid it, when in our power. And this is our situation through­out life. Not a day passes, but we find occasion to abridge our desires, to deny ourselves some gratification, and submit to some inconvenience. To acquire an early habit of restraint must, therefore, be useful to us, as long as we are conversant with those objects.

THIS command over ourselves will be­come easy by custom; and it will not be difficult to graft it on children, where proper authority has been supported. Parents are the natural guardians of their children, and their reason should be em­ployed to control, restrain, and direct the appetites of childhood. Impelled by these, while reason, like the body, is feeble, they would gratify them to their injury, and by a habit of indulgence, would grow up with impetuous and dangerous propensi­ties. Restraint should never be laid merely to display authority, but from the necessity of the case, and to habituate the child to submission.

[Page 216]TO cross children, in things perfectly indifferent, has the appearance of ca­priciousness, and tend to chase and sour their minds. Restraints, where they are indispensable, should be so laid, as rather to call off the mind from the ob­ject, than to prohibit the enjoyment. To maintain that entire control over the ap­petites of children, which is the parent's prerogative, so as not to induce dissimula­tion on the one hand, nor disaffection on the other, is a critical point. When the parent, or the preceptor, becomes a ty­rant, and the child a slave, there is an end of all education.

IN laying restraints, therefore, some regard must be had to the particular con­stitution of children. Those of a feeble, or slender make, require more indulgence, in their food, exercise, and in the punish­ments which are found necessary, than those of a firm, robust habit of body. To pamper these with delicacies, merely to gratify appetite; to excuse them from ex­ercise, lest it should fatigue them; or, to [Page 217] screen them from just and necessary pun­ishment, thro softness and lenity, is the direct way to ruin both health and morals. In both these respects, many a fine child▪ has been ruined by imprudent manage­ment. Instances are not wanting to shew, that the same effect may be produced from an opposite cause. Roughness and se­verity with those, whose languid spirits and feeble habit required that they should be fostered in the arms of pity and in­dulgence, have so depressed them, that they could not gain their proper rank in society, nor hold up their heads in the face of the world.

THESE are extremes equally dangerous, and which require great caution; for that which would be lenity to the former, may be severity with the latter. Parents, sometimes, shew great partiality, among their children, on account of their out­ward form. While the beauty of the one procures a fond indulgence, the deformity, or even the plainness, of another, exposes to slights and neglect. This is a species of [Page 218] conduct no less cruel in the parent, than destructive to the children. In one it cherishes the seeds of vanity and insolence; in the other, of melancholy and discour­agement. An opposite treatment ought to be adopted, by shewing peculiar ten­derness to the unfortunate.

IF children have natural defects, no pains should be taken to secrete them. Such attempts would be teaching them dissimulation, and would often expose them to the painful jokes of their mates, and the sneerings of others. "Philope­men, the greatest General of his age, was a man of mean appearance. He went, by invitation, to a dinner, in his camp dress, without a single attendant. Being taken for one of the General's servants, he was ordered to the kitchen to cut logs for the fire. His friend, the landlord, seeing him in his waistcoat at that work, says, "Bless me, General, what are you doing here?" "I am paying for my bad looks," replied the General."

[Page 219]"THE dutchess of Burgundy, when she was very young, seeing an officer at sup­per who was extremely ugly, was very loud in her ridicule of his person. 'Mad­am, said the King (Louis the fourteenth) to her, I think him one of the handsomest men in my kingdom, for he is one of the bravest." That was a good maxim of Voltaire, who relates the story—"Never ridicule personal defects."

AND on the other hand, peculiar care should be taken to guard against the ill effects, which too early an idea of their superior external accomplishments, is apt to produce in young people. If they are endued by nature with any striking ad­vantages above others, it will not be pos­sible to conceal it from them. The flat­tering voice of praise will too easily catch the ear and inspire vanity. The growth of this pernicious weed should be watched with jealousy, and checked with care.

LETTER XXXVII.

I WILL now return to the restraints and self command, to which children should be early accustomed, and to the gentle manner in which Osander and Ro­zella were taught this lesson. All reason­able desires were gratified with cheerful­ness; unreasonable or improper requests were denied without any apparent con­cern. Children, when very young, will perceive the parent's uneasiness, if refused with doubt and hesitation; and will de­rive encouragement from that state of sus­pense, to renew their request. Children have great sagacity in this respect. They watch the parent's eyes, and observe the tone of voice; and fail not to make the best advantage of any irresolution which they discover. If the request is of such a nature, that it cannot be granted, they re­fuse it with a pleasant, but firm tone. They say, in a sedate manner, without any apparent concern, "You ask, my dear, for that which is not proper: you [Page 221] cannot have it." The child is no longer restless, when convinced of the impossibil­ity of obtaining the object of its wishes.

I WAS present, several years ago, at the following scene—An elderly lady had the charge of a boy about twelve years old. He was a very active, enterprising lad, and glowed with ambition. A number of youth, older than himself, were going to have a riding match: they invited him to be of their party. He applied for per­mission, and was refused. He urged the request with a variety of arguments, and they were all obviated by stronger reasons. He still pursued the suit, with increasing vehemence. The danger of it was repre­sented to him: he was told that a young lad had been thrown from a horse, and had broken his arm. It all availed nothing, but to make him the more earnest. He was then positively prohibited saying another word about it. The interdict was so peremptory, that it left no hopes of success, and he went away as apparently satisfied as if his request had been granted.

[Page 222]TO clip the wings of fancy, and teach the romantic desires to submit to the rea­son of others in childhood, is a discipline most useful thro every stage of life. It prepares the child to be put under the conduct of its own reason, to bear crosses and disappointments, and to submit to the authority of conscience and of the magis­trate. A young person, accustomed from infancy to restraint, will find no great dif­ficulty in submitting to the dictates of his own conscience; and, by a habit of resist­ing his desires, will be able to evade the force of any temptation. But if, as Mr. Locke observes, "the child must have grapes, or sugar plumbs, when he has a mind to them; when grown up, must he not have his desires satisfied too, to what­ever vices they may lead him? He who is not used to submit his will to the rea­son of others, while he is young, will scarce hearken, or submit to his own reason, when he is of an age to make use of it."

IT is a mistake, fatal to education, which many have made, that children are [Page 223] happy in proportion as their wishes are gratified. I believe the reverse to be true. We find, that, in manhood, an unrestrain­ed gratification of appetites is so far from satisfying, that they increase and gather strength by indulgence. "If, said Seneca, you seek to make one rich, study not to increase his stores, but to diminish his de­sires." To Alexander, the fruit of all his conquests was tears; and whoever goes about to gratify intemperate wishes, will labor to as little purpose, as he who should attempt to fill a sieve with water. If you would satisfy the appetites of children, regulate them by your reason, and direct them by your prudence, allowing for their age. They acquire a habit of long­ing after trifles, by false indulgence. Ma­ny estates have been squandered away on appetites, which were created by early indulgence; and become headstrong, by repeated gratification. To indulge irreg­ular fancies, in creatures destitute of rea­son, must be destructive to self command; without which there can be no virtue.

[Page 224]I ONCE was acquainted with a lady, whose parents had never laid any restraint on her passions or appetites in child­hood, but yielded to every idle fancy, until, on a bright evening, she took it in­to her head to cry for the moon. The only reason that it was not granted, was the want of power in the parents. This fact they acknowledged after she grew up; and they had reason to regret their folly on account of the peevish, restless disposi­tion which it had created; and she found this world a very inhospitable region for one, who could not submit to the condi­tions of living in it; for meeting perpet­ually with objects to excite the fancy, and create desires, without the power of grat­ifying them all, or of bearing the disap­pointment of any, you will easily believe she could not be very happy.

MRS. Bloomsgrove was an affectionate mother, but not less faithful than affec­tionate. She shewed the most expressive tenderness to her children when sick; and ever indulged their desires in health, as far [Page 225] as, in her judgment, was proper. They were allowed to come to their parents with a respectful freedom, to make known their wants; but not to express their idle or extravagant wishes. Osander does not, like master Dickie, "cry to ride up to table on the sirloin of roast beef." Nor does Rozella cry for the moon; but they ask for any thing they need without re­serve. Before they could speak, they were taught, by signs expressive of disapproba­tion, to cease crying, or craving any thing which they might not have: they were disciplined to restraint when large enough to sit at table, and to see a thing without wanting it. They were never hungry be­cause they saw others eat, as is common with children of ungoverned appetites. At a plentiful table, like Mr. Blooms­grove's, their palates might easily have been made restless and insatiable; but ac­customed, as they were, to restraint, they never wanted something else in preference to what was given them. They generally dined on one dish, and appeared perfectly [Page 226] satisfied at relinquishing all the rest. If they saw, at any time, children furnished with toys and gewgaws, and expressed any desire for the like, their parents would speak to them with great indifference of those things, as of no kind of value. These fine things, said Mrs. Bloomsgrove, to her little daughter, may do for children who have no better qualities; but what a figure does a girl of twelve or thirteen years old make with fine feathers on a head that is destitute of knowledge? If you acquire the latter, you have less need of the former; and besides, if children do not behave well, their finery only makes them appear the worse; and those who are good will not need gay things to recommend them: every body will esteem and love them without those ornaments.

I CANNOT close this, without observing to you the vast advantage to be derived from this habitual restraint, in point of government. Accustomed to govern themselves, correction becomes a strange work; each yields to order without per­ceiving [Page 227] the exercise of any authority, and seems perfectly free in an unconditional passive obedience. Hence spring peace and harmony as from their native soil.

LETTER XXXVIII.

IT is with families, as with states; they have been too busy with laws, and too remiss in education. They contrive methods to punish, not to prevent crimes. But the Bloomsgrove family affords an exception from this general observation. The necessity of punishment was almost precluded by their mode of domestic man­agement. We cannot, therefore, draw many examples from it on this head.

I AM convinced, from the success of their domestic discipline, that the usual mode of government should be inverted; and the passion, fear, which is commonly the first, become the last passion addressed by parental authority. Like the ULTIMA [Page 228] RATIO REGUM, this should be the last reasoning of parents.

ON this subject my friend — writes me, that, from his own experience, he has found it as necessary to reward his child­ren for good, as to punish them for bad actions; that rewards are of immense con­sequence in stimulating them to industry, virtue, and good manners, "I was led," says he, "to adopt this practice, by con­templating the principles of action, in men, by which God governs his rational creatures." He goes on to explode cor­poral corrections, and to recommend solitude, with darkness, as the most ef­fectual punishment that can be contrived for them. This he has used successfully in his own family for many years. The duration of the confinement, and the dis­agreeable circumstances that are connect­ed with it, are proportioned to the faults which are committed.

TOO much, he adds, cannot be said in favor of solitude, as the means of reforma­tion, which should be the only end of all [Page 229] punishment. Men are wicked only from inattention, or want of thinking. Inspir­ation, therefore, calls on them to "CON­SIDER THEIR WAYS."

THE most severe punishments, which human laws inflict, are light, compared with that of letting a man's conscience loose upon himself, in solitude. Com­pany, conversation, and even business, are the opiates of the spirit of God in the hu­man heart. For this reason, a bad man should be left in confinement for some­time, without any thing to employ his hands about. Every thought should re­coil wholly upon himself; and he cannot be delivered to a more severe tormentor.

"THERE is, says Lord Kaimes, no branch of discipline that ought to be ex­ercised with more caution, than the distri­bution of rewards and punishments. If money, a fine coat, or what pleases the palate, be the reward promised; is it not the ready way to foment avarice, vanity, or luxury? Praise is an efficacious reward, or which even children are fond; and [Page 230] when properly applied, it never [...]ils to produce good behavior. Punishment requires still more caution; as it ought to be proportioned to the temper of the pupil, as well as to the nature of the fault. I cannot recollect a fault that req [...]i [...]es corporal punishment but obstinacy, which is inherent in some persons. Lying, I think, may be corrected, or rather pre­vented, by proper management: my rea­son for it is, that it is not inherent in our nature, but forced upon a child by harsh treatment. Any fault, except obstinacy, that a child can be guilty of, may be re­pressed by shame and disgrace, which sink deep into the heart of children, as well as of men and women. To keep children in awe, by the fear of corporal punishment, will put them upon hiding their faults, instead of correcting them."

IT was a maxim with Solomon, that "he who spares the rod ruins his child." Government must at all hazards be sup­ported; for no consequences are to be feared, even from the severest exercise of [Page 231] government, equal to those which may be apprehended from the neglect of it. But in a family consisting of several children, there is almost as great a variety of dispo­sitions, all of which it is necessary to meet with rewards or punishments suited to in­fluence them. This will probably make as great a variety in the modes of application.

LETTER XXXIX.

I BELIEVE it is a maxim with phy­sicians, that preventives are the best ex­pedients. If you can, by any means, ac­custom your children to acknowledge their faults, it will lessen their number, and it will preclude the necessity of pun­ishment. This is the only case in which I think auricular confession meritorious. This, tho a difficult part of education, is an important one, and may be effected by beginning early with them, and letting them find that a candid acknowledgement always procures absolution. The finest [Page 232] sensibility should be cherished in the young heart, with regard to right and wrong. This can be effected only by ap­pearing hurt and grieved, not angry, at their faults. If you are angry with a child for its faults and rave at it, you ex­cite the same passion in the child; and the same passion in opposite bodies, like the repellent power in matter, drives them from each other. But soften the heart by grief, and you will attract the child to you; and its faults will become such bur­dens, that it cannot retain them. Rozel­la broke a china saucer of her mamma's best set: the accident was known only to herself; she hid the pieces to prevent dis­covery, but felt very unhappy, and could find no relief but in a frank confession. Her mamma says, "Your fault, my dear, lay in attempting to conceal what you had done; but your confessing it of your own ac­cord, deserves more praise, than either the breaking, or concealing it deserves blame." A frown, on this occasion, would have been death to those tender and generous [Page 233] feelings, and have driven her to dissem­bling on a like occasion in future.

WHAT, but harshness and severity, can obstruct the confidence which affection to parents naturally leads children to place in them? Will children confess their faults, unless they can feel assured that an hone [...] confession will save them from punish­ment? Will they not rather dissemble, and do any thing to avoid a discovery, which involves in it the consequences of a crime?

AMONG the various ways of training the children to confess their faults, the following appeared to Mrs. Bloomsgrove to be the most successful. Returning home, after a visit of a week or two, she put each of her children to say, what good had been done by the other; and what ill itself had done. The former endeared them to one another, the latter restrained them from committing faults. These ar­ticles she made the subject of conversa­tion; and endeavored to ripen their un­derstanding, by shewing them what was right and what was wrong in their conduct. [Page 234] But she was careful to provide a trusty person, to inform her of any fault that had been concealed. In that case she would say to the child, "Surely, my dear, you have a bad memory, did you not do so and so?" The child thinks it in vain to attempt hiding of it; for, "Mamma knows every thing." Stern authority is suitable only for the obstinate and petu­lant; but advice and remonstrance will be a better corrector of other faults. Children may often be put into a way of correcting their own faults, or of volun­tarily confessing them. "A young girl, aged eleven, having accidentally hurt her finger, shewed some degree of impatience. The governess, having in vain endeavor­ed to shame her out of it, left the room with a reproachful look, saying, that she could not bear to see such concern for a trifle. In less than an hour, she received a billet from her pupil, acknowledging her misbehavior, and intreating to be forgiv­en. The young lady owes much of this pliancy of temper to an affectionate moth­er, [Page 235] whose high station has not made her relax from attending to the education of her children, with a degree of prudence and sagacity, that would give lustre to a person much inferior in rank."

STUBBORNNESS will be scarcely known, where a proper authority has been main­tained from the beginning; but will soon appear in some children, where that is not exercised. "Mr. Locke mentions a lady whose daughter was nursed in the coun­try. She found the child so stubborn, as to be forced to whip it eight times, before it was subdued. This was the first and last time of laying a hand upon it. Ever after, it was all compliance and obedience. This ought to be a lesson to parents never to relax the reins of government. Doubt­less the mother here suffered more pain than the child."

LETTER XL.

YOURS and mine, is a language we very early hear from children. They feel their right to what they possess, long before they can be made to understand the origin and foundation of property, by reasoning about it, a [...] Rousseau teaches Emilius, by their dialogue with Robert the gardener. The sense of right and wrong, of yours and mine, arises from the nature and relation of man. But the de­sire of possessing is much more powerful in childhood than this sense. Happy for the world, had it been confined to that period! But for want of proper culture in childhood and youth, this sense be­comes dormant with many. Hence those invasions of one another's property; and interferences of interest, which cause so much disturbance in the world.

"AS society depends, in a great measure, on the sense of property, neglect no op­portunity to fortify that sense in your children. Make them sensible, that it is a [Page 237] great wrong to take what belongs to an­other." It should be considered that their possessions are as dear and valuable to them, as those of grown people. If they are suffered to invade the property of others, however trifling, there is danger that it will grow into a habit of injustice. They should be made to restore the prop­erty, with such reproof, or punishment, as the nature and aggravation of the case may require. No transgression of this nature is ever suffered to pass unnoticed by the parents of Osander and Rozella. They remonstrate against such actions, and endeavor to convey to the feelings of the child, a sense of the wrong done, by reasoning with it in this way—What right have you to what you have taken? Does it not belong to your sister? How would you like it, if she was to get away your things? Can you not be contented with what is your own? Tho the child cannot comprehend the idea of injustice, yet it can feel the force of this application. And, indeed, very little understanding in [Page 238] children, except that which is derived from sensibility and impressions, is neces­sary in the branches of education already mentioned. The understanding of pa­rents must supply the want of it in the child, while they are rearing it up to that degree of maturity in which the under­standing, as well as the heart, may be cul­tivated. To that period, which may be considered as a third stage in education, I shall proceed in my next.

LETTER XLI.

THE evening was serene, and in­vited to walk. The sweet fragrance of the blooming flowers embalm the air, in­spiring health. Pleasures breathe thro the bending wood; exhale from the fair bosom of the floods, and swell with the nightingale's melodious note, while Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove, accompanied by their children and Fanny, walk in the gravel way. The pale glimmering moon-beams, [Page 239] stealing thro the opening foliage, softened all their feelings. The serenity of the sky, the softness of the air, and the many glittering objects around, inspired a placid cheerfulness, which opened the heart to the most sensible delight. A cir­cumstance which added much to the pleas­ure of the evening was, they had all dined at Mr. Bloomsgrove's father's that day, being the birth day of Rozella, who now commenced her thirteenth year.

HER grand papa and grand mamma were no less delighted with her sprightli­ness, her respectful and pleasing manners, and the manly conduct of Osander, than their parents. The union of three gen­erations in convivial entertainment, light­ened the heart of the aged, and taught them to bend to the manners of the young; while these, in turn, endeavored to repay such goodness by reverence and attention, united to sportive pleasures. A day which renewed the age of sixty in that of thirteen, could not be passed without the utmost enjoyment. I do not relate the [Page 240] circumstance of their dining together as an uncommon thing; but this being the birth day of Rozella, which raised her to A MISS IN HER TEENS, afforded peculiar pleasure; and it drew forth from her grand mamma some sparkling touches of humor, for which she had formerly been celebrated, and by which she pleasantly conveyed instruction to her grand child. The dinner was composed of every thing good which the season afforded; was served up in an elegant simplicity of style; and the day passed in great conviviality, and good humor. After returning home, they passed the evening in the gravel walk. Fanny makes her observations on the pleasures of society, and especially on the enjoyment of family circles, where all is harmony and friendship. Rozella prat­tles about grand mamma's good puddings and pies, wonders if she shall ever look as old as grand mamma, and repeats many of her pleasant and sensible speeches. O­sander wonders if grand papa ever read all the books in his library, and thinks that if [Page 241] he has, his head is like a full moon, which reflects its light every where. Fanny en­ters spiritedly into their chat, and gam­bols with them on the green. Pleasure sparkles in the parents' eyes as they walk, and see the sportive mirth of their youth­ful family.

THE evening being closed, they return to offer praises, on the domestic altar, to that Almighty Being who guards the dwellings of the just, and is the friend of the faithful. Having committed them­selves to the care of his providence, they retire to rest with full confidence in his paternal protection. All is hush—a pro­found silence reigns thro the mansion. Sweet, balmy sleep had chased away the events of the past, rendered them uncon­scious of the present, and unapprehensive of the future. But, hark! A commis­sioned messenger arrives—a sudden and loud rap awakes the whole house—Mr. Bloomsgrove hastily arises; and, throw­ing up the window, inquires who is there. He is informed that a violent illness has [Page 242] seized his mother; that the physician thinks her symptoms threatening, and that she desires to see him and Mrs. Blooms­grove as soon as may be. They hasten to the house, where festivity had prevailed the day before, to discharge the duties of filial piety.

IT will not be necessary to relate the minute circumstances that took place on this occasion, and the general alarm it spread thro the family. Suffice it to say, that they lost no time to see so worthy a parent. The violence of the disorder a­bated in the morning; when she desired to see the children, and Fanny, whom she numbered among them. They were im­mediately sent for, and a deluge of tears succeeded their entrance into the room. The old lady recovered from the first shock, which the sight of those dear ob­jects gave, and was able to administer the most salutary advice. She appeared per­fectly resigned to the will of the supreme disposer of events. She spake of death with an unaffected firmness, as cast in the [Page 243] milder light of friend by the Christian revelation, which softens that grim visage to the fair form of an angel, the messenger of peace.

HOW interesting the scene! the parent of a numerous progeny, with a countenance rendered serene and venerable by piety and age, giving them her last advice, her part­ing blessing; the children and descendants administering the proper cordial to old age, by the tender hand of filial affection. Neither the native firmness of mind, nor the high rank in life which Mr. Blooms­grove held, lessened his affection for a mother whom he had every reason to ven­erate; nor did he omit any attention in his power, to render the closing scene comfortable. In this he imitated the con­duct of Solomon, who, tho a KING, did not lose the respect of a child; but rose from his throne, and bowed himself, when his mother came to him with a request. This sickness gave them an opportunity to exhibit an example of filial piety, af­fection, and reverence, which made a [Page 244] lasting impression on the minds of their children.

THE disorder continued, with various symptoms, several days, until feeble na­ture became exhausted, and she gently sunk down into soft slumbers; leaving to the young a striking instance of the serene evening, which succeeds the virtuous morning of life. Here was one of the most beautiful and interesting scenes you can conceive of! dutiful and affectionate children, surrounding the dying bed of a parent with unfeigned grief; and with respectful mourning, following her re­mains to the grave; and recording in their faithful memories the debt of grati­tude they owed to parental care and love:

LETTER XLII.

A PLEASING melancholy for a while pervaded the house, and cast in soft­ening shades the illustrious qualities of its possessors. They failed not to improve the sorrowful incident to moral and relig­ious purposes. The sudden transition from joy to sorrow; from health and fes­tivity, to sickness and death, afforded scope for many an useful lesson of instruction. And as they had trained their children to submit to the ills of life, so they exhibited an example of it on this occasion.

HITHERTO education has been carried on more by physical influence, than by the light of understanding in the pupil. The period is now arrived, in which rea­son begins to unfold more lively colors, and will bear a more active part in the future management of the children. Placing ourselves on this boundary line between childhood and youth, we can look back and survey, at a single glance, the progress of education in infancy and [Page 246] childhood; but looking forward thro the devious paths of youth, an infinite variety and boundless prospects open before us. To analyze this period of education, so that each part may be distinctly viewed, and no one pass unnoticed, is not an easy task. The daughter is to be trained in the line of her sex, and prepared to ap­pear, to the best advantage, in the world, which will employ all the prudence and good sense of the mother. And the son, to be brought forward in the higher branches of learning, and to be educated in such a manner, as will best prepare him for usefulness and happiness in life.

BUT you will recollect that domestic memoirs, and not a treatise on school learning, is our object. However the latter may be neglected, that which be­longs to parents, and is properly of the domestic kind, is, perhaps, much more so. In schools we look for little else than the culture of the understanding; at home we are to look for the culture of the heart. If parents were as solicitous to do [Page 247] their duty in this respect, as they are to have teachers of schools do theirs, it would redound much to the honor of human nature, and the happiness of their child­ren. But where the understanding has been improved to the greatest degree of perfection, the cultivation of the heart has been surprisingly neglected. Now is the season for the cultivation of both head and heart in our young pupils.

OSANDER was to have been sent abroad to school about this time, in order to pre­pare him for a public education; but the event of his grand mamma's death detain­ed him beyond the intended period. In order to supply the place of his son, in some measure, Mr. Bloomsgrove invited a nephew, who had just finished his aca­demic studies, to reside at his house. This nephew was a worthy youth, but had suffered much by being sent abroad too young. Science he had acquired; but very little attention had been paid to the regulation of the heart. Mr. Blooms­grove soon discovered the disease and the [Page 248] cause of it. He saw that his nephew had been under preceptors, who considered not the culture of the heart as any part of their business; and, tho furnished with grammar rules, yet moral principles, which are useful in every part and station of life, had not been instilled into his mind. This turned Mr. Bloomsgrove's thoughts into a new channel with respect to his son.

HE perceived that his nephew, whose passions were warm, but had a heart sus­ceptible of any impressions, had been governed by the exercise of power, not by persuasion; that he had been taught by dry rules, but not according to nature. Authority, indeed, is indispensable; and general rules, where there is a number of youth, cannot be avoided. But the seat of empire should be the heart; and gen­eral rules should be made to bend to par­ticular circumstances, as far as may be, without endangering government, and making youth unsteady.

[Page 249]THE noble writer of "Hints on Educa­tion" has proposed several weighty objec­tions against sending a son abroad to a public school, until sufficiently prepared at home to resist temptation. He disap­proves of the government and method of instruction, used in the public schools in England. I believe, however, that the modern practice of many preceptors, in America, is less exceptionable. The current of his observations leads him to recommend a private tutor in preference to a public school. This plan may do in England, where many an opulent family may employ as many needy scholars in the capacity of private tutors; but agrees not so well with the abilities of Ameri­cans. "Regular hours, at school, of reading and diversion, have a woful effect. Children, after a painful lesson, are let out to play. Their time being circumscribed, appears always too short. From the height of amusement, they are forced back to a dry lesson. Can it be expected, that in such a state of mind, they will listen to [Page 250] serious instruction? Let them play, let them fatigue themselves: guard only against sauntering. When sufficiently tired, lead them back, with a cheerful countenance, to a lesson, as a change of a­musement. This is agreeable to human nature." This, the writer observes, can be put in practice only by a private tutor. I think that something similar might be practised in our public schools; that is, the exercises may be so varied, as to have the air of novelty. In a public school, it is impossible that the youth should be so constantly under the preceptor's eye, as is requisite at that age. "Hence, says he, it is in a measure essential, that a young man be well tutored, in morals at least, before he is left to himself, among a num­ber of young men of different disposi­tions."

MR. Bloomsgrove, observing that his nephew, who was naturally of a mild, gen­tle disposition, had acquired a forwardness improper for his age, and an impatience of restraint, to which he had not been ac­customed; [Page 251] that he assumed an high tone; and, in short, that he had imbibed several of the ill qualities of the different boys with whom he had associated, was convinc­ed of the necessity of keeping his son much longer under his own eye. Altho his nephew had not so deviated from the paths of innocence and virtue, but that his prudent management cured him, in a little time, of all the ill habits he had ac­quired; yet he chose not to venture his son from his own hands, until his morals were formed and well established.

TO this end, several families, agreeing in their common views, associated to fa­cilitate the instruction of their children; and placed a tutor in a situation to re­ceive the pupils, and to accompany them in literary pursuits and playful excur­sions.^* A house was erected for this [Page 252] purpose, in the centre of a beautiful green, where all concerned might have an equal advantage; and, while the tutor conduct­ed them in the paths of literature, he was able to second their parent's exertions, to cultivate the moral qualities of the heart. By this kind of school they were not only [Page 253] able to attend to their children, but to preserve their affections. Another ad­vantage arose from the expedient. The same person who attended the boys, taught the young misses writing, arithmetic, ge­ography, grammar, and the belles lettres.

IT was not till the institution of this school, that Mr. Bloomsgrove discovered [Page 254] that his son had rather an aversion to clas­sical studies. For altho he had attended a grammar school before, and, in compli­ance with the wishes of his papa, had made considerable progress in the lan­guages, yet he had no love for these stud­ies. He loved books; but the dry study of Latin and Greek hung as a dead weight upon his active genius, and gave disgust rather than pleasure. This aversion had been increased by the dull round, in which he had been plodding at the gram­mar school; committing to memory long lessons in a language he did not under­stand, and dry rules of which he knew no use.

MISANDER, the son of a respectable farmer, who attended the same school, had neither genius nor taste; and yet parental pride or partiality induced his father to think of an university education. What solecisms are not parents guilty of in the education of their children? How few consult their natural abili [...]ies, or par­ticular inclinations, as much as they [Page 255] ought? The child of small abilities, and slow of apprehension, is often condemn­ed, contrary to reason and nature, thro a long course of severe discipline, to some professional pursuit in life, in which he can never excel, because he has neither taste nor abilities for it. Another with shining talents, and an unconquerable thirst for literature, will be cramped in his education; the plants of nature will be stinted, and the youth destined to some occupation for which he has no taste, and in which native genius can make no ex­ertions.

THE watchful parent, who carefully at­tends to the gradual unfoldings of nature, will be able pretty accurately to discover the mould in which the mind is cast, and what mode of education will be most suita­ble for it. Those powers he will endeav­or to draw forth and cherish, in that way which nature seems to point out: this will render them most useful, when brought to maturity. The modes of instruction and education should be accommodated to the [Page 256] cast of the mind, without reference to any preconcerted plan. Misander was des­tined from the cradle to the college, with­out any regard to his abilities or inclina­tion; the consequences of which we shall see presently.

THE education of Osander is to be con­ducted in the path of nature. Therefore his preceptor was desired to let him pur­sue those studies, to which he seemed most inclined; making use of the classics only as an interlude, to diversify the scene. Mr. Bloomsgrove hoped, by these means, his son would acquire a relish for them. This hope was excited by the love which he himself had for the literature of the ancients. As he advanced in life, he ex­perienced more and more of the pleasures of knowledge; and nothing could be more natural than to wish his son to taste the same pleasures. To a man who delights in books and contemplation, solitude can­not be irksome; nor will this source of entertainment, like most others, be ex­hausted by age.

LETTER XLIII.

TO cherish in the heart moral sen­timents, and engage youth to the practice of prudential virtues, you allow to be a matter of the highest importance. "But how, you ask, is this to be effected?" I conceive it, my dear sir, to be a thing practicable, however difficult it may ap­pear. The success of this attempt de­pends more on observing the operations of human nature in various individuals, and the particular temper of the children to be taught, than on any dry rules. Mankind are formed with a diversity of passions and inclinations. But it usually happens that some one of these predomi­nates over all the others, or, as was the case in some periods of the Roman em­pire, there are two which bare sway alter­nately. This appears in childhood. Some children you early perceive to be proud and haughty; others, modest and diffident: some, warm and passionate; others, cool and gentle: some, obstinate [Page 258] and tenacious; others, soft and flexible: some, covetous and selfish; others, liberal and benevolent. When I speak of these natural passions, and the difference in the strength of them, I only mean that there is an aptness in the objects about us to touch some of those springs of action more forcibly than others; and that different persons will be variously affected by the same objects.

THESE propensities exist, in a degree, in all men; but that which predominates, or has the greatest facility in being affect­ed, by surrounding objects, marks the character of the man. As the seeds of those passions which distinguish men in the public walks of life, are sown in child­hood, the prudent parent will keep a strict watch over that which appears to predom­inate. Against this will he will direct the full force of reproof, counsel, and re­straint. He will, by prudent and steady management, check and control this mas­ter passion; and will find that all the others will yield of course. This will en­able [Page 259] him to instil those virtuous princi­ples into his children, which form their principal glory and happiness in life.

MR. Bloomsgrove was careful to impress on the minds of his children, maxims of prudence, resolution, and industry. In order to draw their attention, and excite the love of these qualities, he gave them an example from the economy of Augus­tus Cesar, Emperor of Rome; and of the industry of his wife Livia, and his sister Octavia, who spun all the clothes the Emperor wore: of "Scipio, the glory of Rome, and terror of Carthage, who dress­ed his garden with his own hands: and of the venerable old senator, Fabricius, illus­trious by many triumphs, who supped on­ly on the herbs he himself had raised." These were examples of social and do­mestic virtues, very useful to the child­ren, and they derived great force from the illustrious characters who exhibited them.

SENSIBLE that happiness does not de­pend so much on the quantity of posses­sion, [Page 260] as on the manner of acquiring it, and the use to which it is applied; he was especially careful to inspire his son with magnanimity; with sentiments of truth, justice, temperance, moderation, contentment, and all those substantial vir­tues, which add dignity to human nature, elevate the soul to its proper rank, and form the welfare of society. Success in establishing these essential virtues in the mind, depends much on preserving it from meanness and duplicity: these are not native qualities, but the effect of mis­management, and the occasion of many vices.

LETTER XLIV.

AS children are naturally candid, Mr. Bloomsgrove found it not only prac­ticable, but a pleasant task to keep them so. He shewed them the beauty of this temper, by relating examples of it in ma­ny celebrated characters. Especially an [Page 261] instance of it in the Marischal de Turenne, who, when he commanded in Germany, was offered a considerable sum by a neu­tral city, to march another way. "I can­not accept of it, said the Marischal, be­cause I do not intend to take the road to your city."

CHILDREN who are taught to be frank and candid, if they find they can always be so without danger, will never think of dissembling, but when they are conscious of having done wrong; and then, if they find as much security, and more comfort, in confessing, than in dissembling, they will be candid and honest. Candor is the basis of friendship and mutual confi­dence. It secures the good will of others; is the sweetener of society, and endears men even to their enemies; and a high degree of it is inconsistent with the prac­tice of any vice.

THERE is a meanness which sometimes appears in children, that does not belong to nature; it is either caught from exam­ple, or inspired by injudicious manage­ment. [Page 262] This is sometimes the effect of too great severity; their spirits are broken by too great restraint, and they become sheep­ish. In others, it may arise from having the views crossed, and the pursuits check­ed, where there has been an unconquerable thirst for some particular object. From whatever cause it may arise, the effect is most unhappy. It damps that noble ar­dor of mind which is a spring to worthy actions, and should be cherished with great care.

"EMULATION, inh [...]rent in the nature of man, appears ever in children: they strive for victory, without knowing what makes them strive. Emulation, kept within proper bounds, is an useful princi­ple, and far from being unsociable; it becomes only so, when it degenerates into envy. Approbation is bestowed on those who behave well; but in struggling for victory, the prospect of being approved is a very faint motive compared with emula­tion. Thro the force of that incitement, a young man will persevere in acquiring [Page 263] knowledge, who, without it, would have made no progress."

THE same is true of making advances in virtuous qualities. The desire of ex­celling others must be kept awake, and fanned by education, or the progress will be slow. Osander strives to acquire as much knowledge, and as good a character, as his cousin. Rozella endeavors to equal Fanny in the gentleness of her manners; aad wishes to be as old as her mamma, that she may do as much good, and make as many poor folks happy as she does. Can any thing be more pleas­ing to a parent than to see their children emulating their own virtues? Then let parents exhibi [...] assemblage of the most excellent virtues to excite the emulation of their children!

LETTER XLV.

MR. Bloomsgrove omitted no fa­vorable opportunity of instilling into the [Page 264] minds of his children, that a man should be regarded in proportion to the good he does. There cannot be a more useful lesson of instruction to the young mind than this. Dazzled with the glitter and pageantry of the gay world, young people are too apt to respect a man according to the wealth he possesses, and the external show he makes; and to emulate those qualities, while real virtues, which make no splendid figure, are overlooked or neg­lected. Deluded by these appearances, they form their judgment of men accord­ing to the splendor, and not the merit of actions.

"ALEXANDER demanded of a pirate, whom he had taken, by what right he in­fested the seas? 'By the same right,' re­plied he, boldly, 'that you enslave the world. But I am called a robber, be­cause I have only one small vessel; and you are styled a conqueror, because you command great sleets and armies." A­gainst the false maxims and sentiments which too commonly prevail, Mr. Blooms­grove [Page 265] guarded his children; teaching them that the distinction between high and low, rich and poor, is nothing in comparison with that which arises from the different degrees of usefulness in the world; that the honest, industrious farmer who trains his children to be useful mem­bers of society, is more worthy of respect, than the most wealthy who regards not the poverty or distresses of his neighbor, while he gratifies all his own expensive fancies. He accustomed them to bridle their love of pleasure; and endeavored to initiate them into the true secret of worldly felicity; shewing them that it consisted in the suitableness of a person's situation to his natural taste; in the tem­perate use of the enjoyments of life; in doing good to others, and in making ev­ery condition and circumstance in life subservient to the interests of virtue.

CERTAIN it is, that happiness consists in being of a quiet, peaceful mind, and not in sonorous titles, nor extensive pos­sessions. To exalt and elevate the mind, [Page 266] therefore, was his object, without over­heating the imagination; to inspire cour­age and firmness, without kindling the fire of ambition into an unhallowed flame. He was more solicitous to make his son a good, than a great man. It is vanity that makes most people prefer shining and dangerous qualifications to the more retired and milder virtues: the latter are the only qualities which can en­sure the repose and happiness of life.

ALTHO he had every thing to build upon which ancestry in America could give, yet he carefully instilled into his children this idea, that personal merit was what they should attend to, without refer­ence to ancestors. Often would he re­peat to them, in a winter evening, or in a leisure hour after dinner, the speech of Gaius Marius to the Romans, in which he shewed the absurdity of their conduct in hesitating to confer on him the rank of gen­eral, on account of his descent.^*

LETTER XLVI.

OSANDER and Rozella, have al­ready obtained from nature and fortune every advantage which can be derived from them. Every thing which educa­tion can add to these may be expected from the care of their parents. Uncon­scious [Page 268] of any merit from their own rank and fortune, they treat every one with af­fability and respect. Their parents never flattered them with any ideas of superior­ity of rank; but taught them that all just claims to superiority were founded in real excellence and personal merit.

MRS. Bloomsgrove spoke slightly of dress before her daughter.—"Gay dress, [Page 269] she observed, is seldom necessary, and should never come into competition with the improvements of the mind; that dress may serve to recommend a female among strangers, but that a plain dress is more becoming a young lady of known excel­lence, and that a flaunting dress only [Page 270] derogates from her character. She did not mean, by these lessons, to depress the sprightly mind of Rozella, nor to hurt her taste in dress, but to prevent any thing finical, and to elevate her mind to more suitable objects.

IN order to guard Osander from being led astray by his strong and lively pas­sions, [Page 271] Mr. Bloomsgrove takes every op­portunity to teach him how to gain an empire over himself; and to inspire him with a desire to distinguish himself, not by borrowed or superficial qualities, but by the gentleness of his temper, and the no­bleness of his soul. Ideas like these, graft­ed into the young mind, will lay a sure foundation for future good conduct. The ardor of his spirits, under such culture, will exalt his sentiments, and add delicacy to his manners. His ambition will nev­er suffer him to be guilty of base actions, because it is directed to noble objects. Eager to be at the head of the list among his mates, and desirous of the approbation of his father, he will be ready to sacrifice every other pleasure to that of deserving and obtaining a good name.

THIS mode of education, you will say, may be proper for a youth of such lively spirits as Osander; you may warm his imagination and elevate his mind. But what is to be done with such an one as Misander? He is a youth of confined [Page 272] ideas; is capricious in his temper, and has no aspirings of mind towards great objects. To excite a degree of emula­tion will be necessary, but the particular mode of treatment must be adapted to the natural character and disposition of the youth.

MISANDER might have been, in a great measure, cured of these ill qualities by a seasonable attention to them; or they might never have appeared, had they not been fanned into a flame by injudicious management. If opposite dispositions had been cherished with due care, they would have prevailed and borne these down. But, unfortunately for him, he was left, like too many other children, to grow up without cultivation; and, as "ill weeds grow apace," he was soon overrun by evil passions. These became too deeply rooted ever to be eradicated; and tho conducted into the field of science, it was only to make his follies the more conspicuous. A public education is gen­erally lost upon such characters. Their [Page 273] minds, not properly disciplined to virtue by domestic education, have no secure basis; and having acquired science with­out virtue, they are in the situation of an edifice without a foundation, and, like that, overset before the first blast, and fall among the splendid ruins of society.

PHILO has merit, but not great talents. He has moderate abilities, with a good dis­position, and a noble soul. He has forti­tude, and, for his age, a sound judgment. With these qualities, directed in a proper manner, Philo promises fair to make a greater, and, certainly, a more useful man, than many who are endued with superior genius. The difference of character be­tween these two youth must be principal­ly ascribed to the difference in their do­mestic education. The one had been in­dulged in every thing; and never had his mind directed to higher objects, than those which are suited to excite childish desires. This had a most unhappy effect on his temper, by debasing his mind and corrupting his heart. The other had [Page 274] been disciplined to virtuous habits under a steady government; and altho his geni­us was not brilliant, his heart was good; his soul was averse to every thing mean and sordid; and his understanding was adequate to all the purposes of useful life.

THE education of the last Czar of Rus­sia, was suited to make him appear foolish and ridiculous. "Born without genius or courage, his education principally con­sisted in inspiring him with military ideas. Had he possessed ambition to be an hero as well as a sovereign, he might have made a conqueror."

"CHARLES the twelfth, king of Sweden, whose valor rendered even his follies glo­rious, should have possessed less valor or more genius. If he had had less enthu­siasm, his name might not have been so celebrated, but would have been more truly great." It was the imprudent zeal of Charles that gave PETER THE GREAT an opportunity of acquiring that illustri­ous title, by conquering him. This Peter acknowledged, by drinking his [Page 275] Swedish master's health in presence of a number of his captive officers after a cel­ebrated victory.

LETTER XLVII.

LONG lessons on morality become tedious to children, and lose their design­ed effect. In the management of their passions, therefore, Mr. Bloomsgrove used great moderation with his children, and, by coolly exhibiting to them examples of great self command, would sooth them, when irritated; and make them ashamed of themselves, if at any time they gave way to a fit of anger.

"TWO gentlemen, said he to his young son, were riding together, one of whom, who was very choleric, happened to be mounted on an high spirited horse. The horse grew a little troublesome, at which the rider became very angry, and whip­ped and spurred him with great fury. The horse, almost as headstrong as his [Page 276] master, returned his treatment by kicking and plunging. The companion, con­cerned for the danger, and ashamed of the folly of his friend, said to him coolly— Be quiet, be quiet, and shew yourself the wiser of the two."

THE child who has been taught from his infancy to restrain angry passions, may, when further advanced in age, be convinced of the impropriety of suffering them to carry him away. They make a man appear ridiculous in the eyes of the world, and render him unhappy in him­self; and are attended with the most mis­chievous consequences. Against the ill effects of these, the affectionate parent will carefully guard, by the interposition of advice, remonstrance, and authority when necessary.

OSANDER was thrown into a violent passion with one of his schoolmates, as they were diverting themselves; and, in the heat of his passion, expressed himself in a manner highly displeasing to his father, who, when it came to his ears, [Page 277] called him to account for his conduct, and soon made him ashamed of his folly. After shewing him the folly and danger of giving way to anger, and remonstrating against the like again, he related several instances of greatness of soul in repressing anger, with the good effects of it. He recommended to him to observe the max­im of a Roman emperor, never to speak, when he was in a passion, till he had leisurely repeated all the letters in the al­phabet. He instanced also Socrates say­ing to a servant, who had offended him— "I would treat you as you deserve, were I not in a passion." But his generous soul melted at the relation of the dispas­sionate conduct of Themistocles, who was the means of saving Greece from ruin by his calmness, in answering the passionate threatenings of Euribiades, admiral of the Grecian fleet which was collected against the Persians.

"ANGRY at being opposed in a coun­cil of war by Themistocles, a young offi­cer, he brandished his staff in a threaten­ing [Page 278] manner—'Strike, said Themistocles, but hear me first.' Subdued by this in­stance of self command, Euribiades listen­ed, followed the advice of the young offi­cer, and obtained a complete victory. The cool behavior of Themistocles saved Greece, which would probably have been ruined by the old general." Not more complete was the victory over the Persians than that which the recital gained over the spirits of Osander. He confessed his error, and declared that he wished for nothing so much as to be a second The­mistocles. By embracing those opportu­nities which particular incidents afforded, Mr. Bloomsgrove's lectures were agreea­ble and doubly useful. This method proved effectual with his children; not to prevent an emotion of anger sometimes; but to accustom them to restrain their passions, and to reduce them speedily to order, when they were put into motion; to remain silent, while they were under the influence of irritated passions; and to be doubly on their guard, when injured or affronted.

[Page 279]THOSE persons are very ill qualified for society, who take fire at every insult, and give vent to their passions without re­straint. They live in a state of hostilities with the world, and more so with them­selves. Their impatience involves them in perpetual difficulties, and often into great distresses. All these evils are avoid­ed by a due restraint on the passions; and the peace and order of society is preserv­ed, while individuals enjoy the pleasures of calm, serene spirits. A gentleman was one day attacked in public by a brutish fellow, with opprobrious language, but took no notice of him: as he returned home at night, he was followed by the same person venting himself in a similar manner against him. It being dark, when he reached home, he ordered a ser­vant to light the man back, for fear he should lose the way. To overlook or dis­semble small injuries, is the surest way to avoid great ones.

LETTER XLVIII.

XENOPHON, in his Cyropoedia, tells us that "The Persian children went to school, and spent their time in learning the principles of justice, as children do in other countries to learn the knowledge of letters. Their governors devoted the greatest part of the day to deciding causes among them, respecting theft, violence, and deceit; punishing those whom they found guilty in any of these matters, or who were convicted of unjust accusation. Ingratitude too, they punished; a crime, which, tho the principal occasion of ani­mosity, is little taken notice of among men."

HAPPY would it be for this rising em­pire, if a similar practice was adopted by our schools, academies, and universities, and by all heads of families. Children are soon to be initiated into society; and society cannot exist, unless the principles of justice are understood, and its sacred bonds preserved inviolate. It requires [Page 281] no abstract reasonings to become acquaint­ed with those principles. They lie near the surface, and are within the reach of the most moderate capacities. The prin­ciples of commutative justice, which are expressed in that short sentence—"All things whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you, do ye even so unto them," are applied to the natural sense of right and wrong. They are addressed to the feelings of every man, and appeal to their own sense of wrong, when unjustly treated, to assign to themselves the same penalty in doing injustice to others, which they do to those who injure and offend them.

THAT a sense of right and wrong is nat­ural to man, and ought to be cherished by education, and explained to children as soon as they are capable of understand­ing the relation of things, was an opinion in which Mr. Bloomsgrove was fully con­firmed. He therefore took care to ex­plain and impress on the minds of his children the obligations of justice and [Page 282] equity in all their actions, as soon as they could comprehend any thing of these ob­ligations; and he enjoined their preceptor to let no favorable opportunity pass, with­out doing the same.

IN order to try their invention, and to assist them in understanding the principles of justice, he would propose questions to them on the case of certain transactions, and request their determination. These judiciary proceedings were as amusing as they were instructive to the children; and while they led them to an acquaint­ance with the principles of common jus­tice, they gave him an opportunity to cor­rect their judgment when wrong.

WHAT do you think, my son, said Mr. Bloomsgrove to Osander, one evening after he came home from school, when Misander had been punished for doing wrong to his mates—of the conduct of Cyrus?—Pray, papa, repeat the story. That I will do with pleasure, my son, if you will profit by it.

[Page 283]"CYRUS was a little boy of a good dis­position, and a very humane temper, and had been well educated from childhood. One evening his father asked him what he had done or learned that day.—Sir, said Cyrus, I was punished to day for de­ciding unjustly. How so? said his father. There were two boys, replied Cyrus, one of them was a great, and the other a little boy. It happened that the little boy had a coat that was much too big for him; but the great boy had one that scarcely reached below his middle, and was too tight for him in every part; upon which the great boy proposed to the little one to ex­change coats with him, because then, said he, we shall both be exactly fitted, for your coat is as much too big for you, as mine is too little for me. The little boy would not consent to the proposal; upon which the great boy took his coat away by force, and gave his own to the little boy in exchange. While they were dis­puting upon this subject, I chanced to pass by, and they agreed to make me judge [Page 284] of the affair. But I decided that the little boy should keep the little coat, and the great boy the great one; for which judg­ment my master punished me. Why so? said Cyrus's father; was not the little coat most proper for the little boy, and the large coat for the great boy? Yes, sir, answered Cyrus; but my master told me, I was not made judge to examine which coat best fitted the boys, but to decide, whether it was just that the great boy should take away the coat of the little one against his consent; and therefore I de­cided unjustly, and deserved to be pun­ished." I think so too, replied Osander; for no body has any right to take anoth­er's coat without his consent.

MR. Bloomsgrove was going to relate some other instances of erroneous judg­ment about right and wrong actions; but just as he finished this, the bell rang for supper, and the young master and miss retired to bed, much edified and pleased.

LETT [...]R XLIX.

NOTHING can be more destruc­tive to society than falsehood; nor can any thing deserve the attention of parents and teachers of children so much, as to cherish in them a love of truth. This, like good coin; will pass every where; but falsehood, like counterfeit money, is liable to suspicion; and persons addicted to this vice are despised and rejected. There is a dignity peculiar to that character which preserves a sacred regard to truth, while those of an opposite character fall into the lowest contempt.

ROUSSEAU has objected, with consid­erable force of reason, against the use of fables for the instruction of children, as having a tendency to teach them false­hood. A fable is in fact a false story con­trived to teach some moral truth. "How is it possible, said he, men can be so blind as to call fables the moral lectures for children, without reflecting that the apo­logue, in amusing, only deceives them; [Page 286] and that, seduced by the charms of false­hood, the truth couched underneath it escapes their notice? Yet, so it is; and the means which are thus taken to render instruction agreeable prevent their profit­ing by it. Fables may instruct grown persons, but the naked truth should be presented to children: for if we once spread over it a veil, they will not take the trouble to lay it aside, in order to look at it."

WHATEVER force you may allow to these observations, you may be assured that Mr. Bloomsgrove was cautious of using them. Very few ever came to his children's knowledge, until they were grown to years of discretion; and of those few, he or his good lady had the choosing, that they might have only such as were plain and well suited to convey instruction without any ill effect. They paid an early attention to every circumstance which had any tendency to inspire their children with a regard to truth, and an abhorrence of falsehood. In order to [Page 287] this, they were careful to encourage their speaking truth, by making it most conven­ient for them. Cautious not to drive them into subterfuges and dissimulation, they were seldom found guilty of fraud or falsehood; and as they advanced to years of understanding, they were taught the nature and obligations of truth: its beautiful image was presented to their mind in a pleasing and engaging manner; and the deformity of falsehood and de­ceit, painted in all its odious colors. They represented to their children and family, the mean and contemptible light in which those are held, who practise so base a vice. They would adduce instances of each, some of which fell within their own ob­servation; and others selected for that purpose.

ONE evening as Mr. and Mrs. Blooms­grove were walking on the verdant mar­gin of the river, with their nephew, Fan­ny, and their children, the moon shone beautifully upon the smooth surface of the water. Osander, observing that every [Page 288] object appeared crooked in the water, asked his papa the reason of it. Instead of replying that it was occasioned by the refraction of the rays of light, as they pass­ed a denser medium, he said that it was a deception, and that the water in that case was not the proper representative of the truth. Just so it is with those who per­vert the truth, by representing things in a false light in many instances; they can­not be credited in other cases.

MRS. Bloomsgrove turning to Fanny, asked her what she had read that day, that made the deepest impression on her mind. She replied, with a modest deli­cacy peculiar to her, that the story of the frankness of a galley slave in owning the truth, though he knew not but it might be the means of his ruin, had struck her more than any thing she had read. Re­peat it, my dear, said her excellent patron­ess. That I will do with pleasure, mad­am, as soon as I can recollect it, and shall feel myself extremely happy, if I can grat­ify you in any thing; and proceeded as follows.

[Page 289]IN the memoirs of the Duke d'Ossuna, I found the following anecdote—"The Duke having leave from his Catholic Majesty to relieve some galley slaves, such as he should think best deserving of par­don, went on board the Admiral galley at Barcelona, and asked several of the slaves what were the crimes that had sent them to the gallies. Every one endeavored to excuse himself, that it was out of malice, that the judges were corrupted, and the like. The same question being put to a little sturdy fellow, he acknowledged that he was justly condemned; for that, being in want of money, he had robbed a man on the high way. On which, the Duke gave him a blow over the shoulders with a cane, saying, you rogue, why should you be with so many honest innocent men? get you out of their company, for shame."

THEY were all much pleased with the story, and agreed that if any thing could entitle him to his freedom, it was his frank­ness in telling the truth, Now, says Mr. Bloomsgrove to Osander, your cousin Fanny has related so pretty a piece, and [Page 290] done it very well, (at this unexpected compliment Fanny's cheeks were crim­soned) let us hear what you can give on the same subject. Osander, with his usual frankness, immediately proceeds—"Eu­genio had contracted such a habit of ly­ing, by the bad company he kept, that he could scarce ever be believed by his friends; and was often suspected of faults, because he denied the commission of them; and could not get reparation for injuries of which he complained, be­because he could never be credited. A lusty boy, of whom Eugenio had told some falsehoods, often way laid him as he went to school, and beat him very much. Con­scious of his ill desert, Eugenio bore for some time, in silence, the chastisement; but the frequent repetition of it, at last overpowered his resolution, and he com­plained to his father of the usage he met with. His father, tho doubtful of the truth of his account, applied to the pa­rents of the boy who he said abused him. But he could obtain no redress from them, and only received for answer, "Your son [Page 291] is a notorious liar, and we pay no regard to his assertions. Eugenio was therefore obliged to submit to the wonted correc­tion, till full satisfaction had been taken by his antagonist for the injury which he had sustained." The evening advanced, and they all returned home much pleased with the excursion.

THE first formation of children's minds being impressions; and their first actions the notices of impressions, it will follow that children are capable of considerable progress in falsehood, before they can learn the use of words. An ignorant or careless nurse, not distinguishing the dif­ferent tones of pain and hunger, will soon teach a child to deceive in those sensations. Hence it is that parents, who do not at­tend carefully to their offspring, are as­tonished that the first use of speech is to deceive. This they ascribe to an unhap­py perversion in the nature of their child­ren; or to any but the true reason—their own criminal negligence. Under an ap­prehension that their children were born with a lie in their mouth, or with lying [Page 292] constitutions, they attempt beating it out by stripes. The disorder will only be in­creased by these means. Proper manage­ment would have prevented it. A very cautious and tender usage is necessary to remedy the evil.

CHILDREN can have no desire to de­ceive, till it is made their interest. They feel their dependence, and naturally wish to be on good terms with those on whom they depend; but if they are directly charged with any crime, and are sensible that if they plead guilty, it will endanger that harmony, they will deny it. If they have not been trained to make voluntary confessions, at least to great candor and frankness, they will dissemble, when quest­ioned; and deny, when charged with a fault.

IF Osander, at any time, seems disposed to equivocate, his papa draws him off from such ungenerous attempts. He queries whether the frankness of the galley slave did not make him appear better, than the wealthiest man who has no regard to the [Page 293] truth. As to Rozella, her mamma's prudent management inspired her with so delicate a regard to truth, that she would shudder at the thought, even of the least equivocation. An excellent example for those of her age!

LETTER L.

THE virtue, fidelity, seems to be but little understood by children. They are made, like a parrot, to promise any thing that is put into their mouth, without know­ing any thing of the nature of the obliga­tion. If the fear of punishment or the hopes of reward lead them to make engagements, which they will violate as soon as the force of the motive abates, the violation is not to be considered as want of the principle in the child. It must be charged to im­prudence in the parent or preceptor. A child cannot be said to be unfaithful in not fulfilling engagements which he makes, before he is capable of understand­ing the nature of such obligations. No [Page 294] such promises, therefore, should ever be extorted from them. The obligation does not exist in nature, but in contract or agreement. If the nature of the obli­gation is not so far understood, as that the moral sense of right and wrong will exert itself in producing a fulfilment, from what cause do we look for it?

MRS. Bloomsgrove was ever attentive to this matter, when the children were young and under her more immediate care; nor did their papa ever exact any promises of them, until they were able to comprehend the reason, and see the con­sequences of promising. The principal sense which children have of engagements, is their utility. But when the innate sense of right and wrong begins to exert it­self, and conscience imposes that as a duty which convenience only had dictated be­fore, then the force of engagement is felt from an understanding of its principles. These are unfolded to Osander as he can bear them, and enforced by considerations suited to touch his feelings. He is taught [Page 295] never to promise any thing slightly; but to consider what he is about to engage, and whether he shall be able to perform; and having made an engagement, how­ever trifling, he is closely watched as to the fulfilment of it. This strengthens his resolution and accustoms him to punctu­ality. But if he at any time violates his word, his papa expresses as much surprise as indignation; and tells him, "If you were not quite young, such an action would be very disgraceful; and if you should do the like again, you would ren­der yourself contemptible in the eyes of every one."

HIS instructions were always accompa­nied with example. He considered promises made to children as of sacred obligation; and was careful to fulfil them, however trifling in themselves. Many parents fail much in this point. They promise children, perhaps to get rid of a present importunity, that they shall have such a thing, or go to such a place, with­out any thought or intention of fulfilling [Page 296] their promise. The child remembers the promise, and, at the time, claims a per­formance; but the parent has forgotten it, or declines a fulfilment. What is this but teaching them to deceive and be un­faithful?

IN some animals there appears an in­stinctive principle, which bears a strong analogy to this virtue. It begets the strongest attachment to certain objects; and leads to do every thing in a certain line, which the most sacred engagements could effect. But this moves in a con­fined circle, and never enlarges as it goes round. The strength of it, in some in­stances, puts to the blush men who claim the rank of intelligence, and who profess to act on principles superior to in­stinct.

THE following instance of fidelity in a dog, is worthy of notice; and it must be the more agreeable, as it happened not many years ago—An officer in the late American army, on his station at the west­ward, went out in the morning with his [Page 297] dog and gun, in quest of game. Ventur­ing too far from the garrison, he was fired upon by an Indian, who was lurking in the bushes, and instantly fell to the ground. The Indian running to him, struck him on the head with his tomma­hawk in order to dispatch him; but the button of his hat fortunately warding off the edge, he was only stunned by the blow. With savage brutality he applied the scalping knife, and hastened away with this trophy of his horrid cruelty, leaving the officer for dead, and none to relieve or console him, but his faithful dog.

THE afflicted creature gave every ex­pression of attachment, fidelity, and affec­tion. He licked the wounds with inex­pressible tenderness, and mourned the fate of his beloved master. Having per­formed every office which sympathy dic­tated, and sagacity could invent, without being able to remove his master from the fatal spot, or procure from him any signs of life, or his wonted expressions of affec­tion [Page 298] to him, he ran off in quest of help. Bending his course towards the river, where two men were fishing, he urged them by all the powers of native rhetoric to accompany him to the woods.

THE men were suspicious of a decoy to an ambuscade, and dared not venture to follow the dog, which finding all his ca­resses fail, returned to the care o [...] his mas­ter; and, licking his wounds a second time, renewed all his tendernesses, but with no better success than before. A­gain he returned to the men; once more to try his skill in alluring them to his as­sistance. In this attempt he was more successful than in the other. The men seeing his solicitude, began to think the dog might have discovered some valuable game, and determined to hazard the con­sequences of following him. Transported with his success, the affectionate creature hurried them along by every expression of ardor. Presently they arrive at the spot where—behold an officer wounded, scalped, weltering in his own gore, and [Page 299] faint with the loss of blood—Suffice it to say, he was yet alive. They carried him to the fort, where the first dressings were performed. A suppuration immediately took place, and he was soon conveyed to the hospital at Albany, where, in a few weeks, he entirely recovered, and was able to return to his duty.

THIS worthy officer owed his life, probably, to the fidelity of this sagacious dog. His tongue, which the gentleman afterward declared, gave him the most exquisite pleasure, clarified the wound in the most effectual manner, and his perse­verance brought that assistance without which he must soon have perished.

LETTER LI.

THIS day is announced to us, the agreeable intelligence of the arrival of our late BELOVED General, now the illustri­ous President of the United States, at the present seat of federal government.

I SUSPEND all other concerns for a moment, to felicitate you on the auspi­cious event which commences a new era in the history of human affairs. Other nations, after many years of effort and misery in the cause of freedom, have been obliged, either to yield to their haughty [Page 10] conquerors, or to accept conditions of a partial deliverance from their oppressors, unworthy of their attempts. But Amer­ica presents to the world▪ the sublime and affecting spectacle of a brave people, after a few years struggle against a proud and rapacious nation, becoming free and in­dependent; founding a mighty empire, which, tho agitated awhile, like the swell­ing bosom of the ocean, is now settling down into calmness and tranquillity. She presents to the world a constitution of civil government, which, founded in equality and justice, unites energy in the executive with the liberty of the subject; in such a manner as most effectually to secure the responsibility of the one, and the common good of the other.

THE present may with propriety be styled the age of philosophy; and Amer­ica, the empire of reason. The agitations which usually follow such convulsions, and the dismemberment of kingdoms, are rapidly subsiding, and she is fast rising in­to superior consequence. America now [Page 11] promises fair to be the asylum of genius and liberty, the seat of arts and learning, and the universal emporium of wealth and commerce.

ALL this is acknowleged by a transat­lantic panegyrist, who says—"Amidst the number of intrepid soldiers, of experienc­ed generals, and wise legislators, who dis­tinguished themselves on this occasion, an illustrious name appears, which is not on­ly eminently conspicuous in the annals of the present age, but shines unrivalled by the most celebrated characters of antiquity. The irresolute only, who fail in resisting oppression, are branded with the name of rebels. The brave, who succeed in the arduous strife, reap, with the glorious fruit of their toils, the laurel of renown: convinced of this, the great WASHING­TON drew his sword; at the eventful, perilous moment, when the world, with eager concern, attended to the fate of A­merica, in the infancy of her strength, un­justly invaded by the overwhelming power of a monarchy, grown wanton, and [Page 12] deemed irresistible: thro an almost un­interrupted series of victory and conquest, this great man rushed forward; and, to save his country, risked his fame, his property, and his life! Animated with a generous, a disinterested ardor, he stood forth a volunteer in the sacred cause of justice! Freedom, and not power, was his aim: independence, happiness, and the prayers of virtuous millions, were his re­ward."

I AM highly gratified by your account of the emulation which appeared in every class of citizens to be foremost in their expressions of joy on the occasion. It must be flattering to a mind, superior to vanity, to stand unrivalled in the hearts of a grateful country, who unanimously hail him WELCOME to the seat of federal empire.

LETTER LII. To Mrs. —.

I AM about to arraign myself at the tribunal of your sex. To stand approv­ed at so equitable a bar, I shall rank in the first class of my felicitie [...] ▪ Besides your acquaintance in the republic of let­ters, you have a more there knowledge of the female character than I can be sup­posed to possess; and can better judge of proper expedients to raise and dignify that character.

I HAVE, therefore, sent to your perusal those sheets on the subject of female edu­cation, which I mentioned in my last. If, in casting an eye over them, any thing should appear unfriendly to your sex, your goodness will place it to an error in judgment, not to a want of esteem and respect for so amiable a part of our spe­cies. If your long acquaintance with do­mestic life, and the necessary qualifica­tions [Page 14] for discharging its duties, suggests any expedients for cultivating those qual­ities which have escaped my notice, you will be so obliging, Madam, as to mention them with freedom.

I HAVE assigned to the female an im­portant rank in domestic society; and, with that rank, a laborious task—a task imposed by nature; not by me. In the former part of these memoirs, I have shewn the obligations our sex are under to participate the cares, and lighten the burden of yours, by every possible ex­pression of tenderness and affection. The thoughtful, anxious, and affectionate mother interests my esteem, and com­mands my sincerest respect. She renders the most essential service to the world; and doubly blesses her husband by the happiness she entails upon the objects of their mutual affection.

ON the most critical, and perhaps, least pleasing part of the subject, I have only to say, that I have endeavored to follow nature, and to vindicate the just claims [Page 15] of the sex. The idea of inferiority on the part of your sex, I renounce with in­dignation. While the names of Mrs. Rowe, Chapone, Macauley, Barbauld, Miss Burns, Moore, and many others are remembered, the sprightliness, strength, and elegance of female genius must be acknowledged.^* I often blush at the in­feriority [Page 16] of husbands to their wives in mental improvements, as well as in polite and graceful accomplishments.

ANY thing that implies servility, or a yielding of any right or prerogative of nature, I consider as dishonorable in our sex to exact; and, if possible, more so in yours to grant. Nor do I admit of an idea of the kind, in any thing I have said on the subject of the PRIORITY of men. In all societies, there must be one who stands at the head of the list, whose res­ponsibility is necessary for transacting the common concerns. Whether nature has assigned this task to our sex or yours, I refer to the decision of your own judg­ment.

WHEN I use the term submission, I mean submission to nature, not to human [Page 17] caprice. I should have consigned the opprobrious word to the shades, had I not found it necessary to use it, in order to shew the importance of that restraint to which the honor of your sex, their se­curity from numberless and nameless dan­gers, and, I will venture to add, the safety of the world, require they should be early habituated.

WHEN, therefore, I am pleading for the submission of females, I mean to recom­mend to mothers to cherish, by education, those habits of restraint, and that native modesty by which only they can preserve propriety of character. Whatever incon­venience they may suffer from this species of restraint, is amply compensated by their power of command over the will and affections of men; which recipro­cates the influence, and the submission; and, like the laws of attraction and re­pulsion, preserves the equilibrium of the world.

YOUR consequence in the creation I fear not to acknowledge. I assert it with [Page 18] pleasure; and will ever assert it, by pleading the cause of your sex against the ignorance, pride, and prejudice of the world.

LETTER LIII. From Mrs. —.

THE unmerited honor you have conferred on me, respected sir, calls for my warmest gratitude. With pleasure I have perused the sheets you so kindly sent me. You have condescended to re­quest my candid opinion; which must apologize for my giving it without re­serve. Sure I am, they are [...] [...] ­lated [Page 19] to answer the important end they have in view; and I will not injure my own sex so much, as once to doubt their favorable reception with the females of this country in general. Every work, which has in view the improvement of their children, and especially their daugh­ters, whose education has been, hitherto, too much neglected, must be received with avidity by them; and I am confident that the mode of education, exhibited in your portrait of the Bloomsgrove family, will be joyfully adopted by every pru­dent, anxious, and affectionate mother.

I THANK you, my dear sir, for the con­descension you have shewn in explaining away the humbling necessity of tame sub­mission, which some writers on the subject have inculcated. I cannot suppose hap­piness to exist but in equality, tho the powers of each sex may be, and certainly appear so widely different, as to [...] a perpetual disti [...], which gives the [...] [...]o you in some respects, to us in others; for where can a mind repose it­self [Page 20] with such certain confidence and cor­dial unreserve as in a congenial mind? I pity the proud being who, looking abroad thro the widely differing characters of the female mind, cannot find one soft, but el­evated heart to own as his equal.

I FEEL myself perfectly satisfied with the rank I hold in the scale of creation; nor does all that the wit or folly of proud and sa [...]irical men can say in contempt of us, lessen my ideas of our native impor­tance. That we too often forfeit this claim to native importance, is, indeed, a melancholy and humiliating truth. But are not your sex, in a great measure, the cause of our frailty; by first denying us the advantages of education, which you take care to appropriate to yourselves; and then flatter and admire us for adven­titious powers, and shadowy accomplish­ments; nay, even for vanities and follies that, as our protectors, you ought to blush at discovering in a human mind?

I HOPE, sir, your efforts will procure us a more respectable place in the opin­ion [Page 21] of the world. I trust, too, that we shall be the more worthy of filling that place by the pains you have taken to establish our rights, and turn our minds to objects worthy of ourselves.

I FEEL the full force of all you say on the important subject of female education, and am deeply interested in its success.

LETTER LIV.

HITHERTO, my dear sir, have I spoken in general terms of Osander and Rozella; and, indeed, every thing which has been said on the subject of sensibility and impressions, on the culture of the head or heart, applies, with little varia­tion, to both sexes. Whatever difference is requisite in the management of them [Page 22] will readily occur to the vigilant mother; for their different propensities soon ap­pear.

THE difference, necessary to be observ­ed in the mode of treatment, increases with their years; and must now make fe­male education a distinct part of these memoirs. Leaving Osander, for awhile, in pursuit of his studies at school, and em­ploying some part of his leisure hours in the mechanic arts, and in agriculture, un­der his father's direction; we shall ac­company Rozella thro her teens, under the peculiar guidance and instruction of her mother.

ATTEND me, my dear sir, thro this en­chanting walk, variegated with beautiful flowers, to yonder summit; where we see reclined on a green sofa, in a jessamine bower, the amiable, the sensible, the ac­complished Rozella.

LETTER LV.

THE dignity of females consists in their acting always agreeably to their own character; and in preserving their influ­ence in that way which nature points out; by a mixture of reserve and benevolence, in young women; of affection and con­descension, in the married state; by a dil­igent attention to the formation of the character and manners of children of both sexes, in their earliest years, and the entire education of daughters.

THE importance of the female character consists in the extensive influence which the sex has on the face of human affairs. This influence is much greater than is commonly imagined; greater than women themselves have any idea of; for, besides their extensive sway over gallants and husbands, the minds of our whole species receive their first formation under the fostering care of female tenderness. How, then, does female education rise into con­sequence? How much praise is due to [Page 24] those mothers, who, filling with dignity their own rank in society, and discharging the duties of domestic life with fidelity, bless the world with virtuous sons and amiable daughters?

GREAT as the consequences of female education are to the world, it must be ac­knowledged that it has been much neg­lected, and the objects of it greatly mis­taken. Boarding schools have been con­sidered as the seminaries of female educa­tion. Here they have been taught a graceful deportment, some of the fine arts, and the less useful parts of needle work. They have learned to dissemble gracefully, rather than to think or act virtuously. To what purpose is all this, if they are not taught the science of econ­omy, and the necessary branches of do­mestic business? Let their young hearts be inspired with virtuous principles, and with benevolence which is the basis of true politeness, and they will soon ac­quire all the forms which are necessary to good breeding. Let them be made ac­quainted [Page 25] with the most useful kind of lit­erature, and they will not only be better qualified to be mistresses of families, but more suitable for companions and friends in the connubial state. Females should be directed to such studies, as have a ten­dency to enlarge the understanding, with­out the labor of close investigation; to entertain the mind, while they direct the affections of the heart. Economy and do­mestic employments are necessary branch­es of female education; and works of in­genuity and fancy may innocently and agreeably fill up many of their leisure hours.

IT is not the business of education to alter the course of nature, but to follow her dictates, and bring to perfection the plants of her own production. The pru­dent parent will arrest every native pas­sion, and direct its influence to the noble objects of education. The passion which females early discover for ornamental and showy dress may be made an useful en­gine for teaching industry, economy, taste, [Page 26] and cleanliness. A little girl will spare no pains, nor think the time long, which is employed in dressing and undressing her doll; in making and adorning this idol of her fancy. But, in order to have it properly formed and attired, she is obliged to have frequent recourse to oth­ers for assistance: this affords the mother, or the elder sisters, where there are seve­ral daughters, an opportunity to commu­nicate useful instruction in a most pleas­ing manner. The little artist will listen to every proposal for altering, amending, and beautifying it: she receives any in­struction she can obtain as a favor: she will work with indefatigable industry to complete the object of her wishes, and use great economy in saving all the shreds which fall from the scissors. But she would be more happy, if less dependent: she endeavors, therefore, to become mis­tress of the business, that she may enjoy the undivided satisfaction of making and dressing her image.

[Page 27]WHILE her mamma and Fanny were teaching Rozella the art of making the requisite articles of dress for her doll, they were communicating knowledge to her, not as a task but as a favor, which was useful thro life. The dress must be clean, or it will look ugly: this begets a habit of cleanliness, which is of great consequence in females, both as a pleasing and a health­ful quality. The assemblage of colors and materials in the dress must be proper, or it will not be ornamental: this excites taste and attention to propriety. Mak­ing it with her own hand gives scope to invention, and renders industry necessary: this draws forth into exercise, the latent powers of nature, and keeps them em­ployed. The effects of her own industry are enjoyed with a double relish; and in­vention is a source of new pleasures every moment, and keeps alive the disposition to industry.

LETTER LVI.

THOSE who are not engaged in domestic education, or have no concern in the instruction and government of families, may think a minute detail of childish matters frivolous and unnecessa­ry; but the thoughtful, anxious, and af­fectionate mother, who is immediately oc­cupied in domestic education, has very different ideas. She is perpetually sur­rounded with difficulties; is anxious for a minute detail of particulars in the proc­ess of education. She wishes not only to know wherein she is wrong, but to have every particular track pointed out which will lead to the great object in view, the good of her children. In this, the moth­er shews less judgment than solicitude. To give instances and explanations which will apply to every case, would exceed the bounds of any compositions on the subject of education. As education must be conducted by improving incidents and occasions, so the considerate mother will [Page 29] seize general principles, and improve in­stances and examples, by similitude or analogy.

THE object Mrs. Bloomsgrove had principally in view, in the education of her daughter, was to make it proper for her sex; to inspire her with the love of those occupations which are their pecu­liar province; to instruct her in that modest unassuming air, which best be­comes her sex; and to make her ac­quainted with those things, which will make her the most useful and happy in life. To these ends she avails herself of opportunities and incidents as they oc­cur.

IT should be considered that in this country, marriages generally take place earlier than in older countries; and, from the circumstances of the people, the mistress of the family must be at the head of her domestic affairs. The term allotted, by this usage, for the education of females, being short, it should be im­proved with the more diligence. Not [Page 30] attending sufficiently to the difference of circumstances between our own country, and that, from which we have been too long accustomed implicitly to borrow our maxims and manners, many parents have laid the foundation of great domestic dif­ficulty and wretchedness by mismanage­ment in the education of their daughters. Deluded by romantic ideas of elegance and splendor, borrowed from European writers, customs, and manners, many have copied them in the education of their children, without making proper allow­ances for the difference which subsists in the state of society and government of the two countries.

DAUGHTERS born to expectations, as it is phrased, have had their minds swell­ed with vanity, from an idea of their own consequence on that account; and felt themselves above the drudgery of learn­ing the necessary parts of domestic duties. Their education, proceeding on the sup­position of a certain inheritance, has con­sisted mostly in the arts of dress, music, [Page 31] dancing, paying and receiving visits, and the graces of an assembly room; while very little attention has been paid either to the head or heart—still less to the use­ful branches of domestic economy. Oth­ers of less estates, but not less vanity, have followed on in full career. What kind of wives these have made, you may read in the shattered fortunes of many indus­trious husbands, who have been caught by the waving plumage.

WHETHER this would be a proper mode of education, if estates were as sure and durable as the everlasting mountains, I am not about to inquire—I think it will not bear a question. But when we consider that in a free country, under a republican form of government, industry is the only sure road to wealth; and economy the only sure means of preserving it, we see the necessity of educating females in a manner suited to the genius of the gov­ernment. It is an old adage, "A man must ask his wife, whether he may be rich." He gets the estate by his indus­try: [Page 32] she preserves it by her economy. If she has no economy, he labors in vain. The want of attention to this branch of female education, has poisoned the happi­ness and ruined the circumstances of ma­ny families. I know several females, whose only boast has been that they were never taught to do any labor, and that they never did any work in their lives. They are now old; and have nothing to boast of, but extreme poverty, without the power of remedying their circum­stances.

LETTER LVII.

I DO not mean to speak slightly of the polite and graceful accomplishments; but to shew the necessity of uniting to them, the knowledge and habits of do­mestic duties. Her own house is the place for a lady to shine in. The showy accomplishments will appear advantage­ously abroad; but domestic qualities, [Page 33] like the robe de chambre are of constant use: without these a lady must make an awkward figure at home, however grace­ful she may appear abroad. She may grace an assembly room, but do no honor to herself at the head of a table. Her parlour may appear neat and in order, but her kitchen like that of a slattern. Her own dress may be a proper assem­blage of materials to adorn her person; but the education of her children, a re­proach to her domestic character.

AS the portrait painter should never suffer an unfinished piece to go out of his hands, so a mother should never give her daughter in marriage, till she is quali­fied to fulfil the vow, of being "a true and faithful wife." After such an en­gagement, in the presence of her mother, who has had the care of her education, and is supposed to have qualified her for the station to which she presents her; what must be the mortification of her husband, when he finds her wanting in almost every part of domestic knowledge? [Page 34] This disappointment is a fruitful source of domestic animosities, when family cares increase and multiply. This want of knowledge in the duties of her station be­comes the occasion of many difficulties with servants. The mistress of the house being unacquainted with their duties, cannot judge of the merits of their service; expects too much from them, and makes too little allowance for the feelings attend­ant on human nature.

IF prospects of interest could have ex­cused any one from attending to these concerns, Rozella might have pleaded an exemption. But her mamma, who knew the importance of this kind of knowledge, determined to depart from the too com­mon custom of educating daughters. "I consider," she said to a friend, who had observed to her that he could not conceive the necessity there was for her daughter to labor—"I consider that a­mong the events which may attend her future days, poverty is a possible event. Should any unforeseen occurrence render [Page 35] it inevitable, she will now be prepared for the worst, and provided with a reme­dy. If the sun of prosperity should shine upon her, still, at its meridian splendor, this will be useful to her; she will be a better wife, a better mistress, and a better woman, in every view, and in every rela­tion."

I HAVE already observed that she ac­customed her daughter to be always en­gaged in some employment; and as far as possible, made her amusements subser­vient to the great objects of education. At the age of twelve, she had become ac­quainted with several branches of cook­ery, understood the composition and pro­portions of pastry, and even before that period, she could assist her mamma in do­ing the honors of the table. This made her ambitious to rise above childish toys. At that age, she was intrusted with the inspection of some parts of the house; with the adjustment of the parlour for the reception of company; of the lodging rooms, with the assistance of Fanny, who [Page 36] was better able to judge whether every thing was in proper order to receive their guests. In this respect Fanny was of no small advantage to her; for to her was committed the care of things which were of too great magnitude for Rozella, who was to assist Fanny, and to have the whole charge of them, as soon as she should be able to receive it. This confidential com­mitment of affairs, according to the sev­eral stages of ability and merit, gave a constant spring to improvement and fidel­ity.

TOO much pains cannot be taken on this head, since the most of our time, and especially that of a female, is to be passed at home; and since the prosperity and happiness of the whole depend on the ability and disposition of each member to discharge the duties of her particular sta­tion. If the mistress of the house, who holds the first place in all the economical concerns within it, is unacquainted with the duties of so important a place, the or­der of things must be broken in upon, [Page 37] and peace, in the same proportion, de­stroyed; and she must be the greate [...]t sufferer, because most confined to the scene of confusion.

YOU will not conclude, my dear sir, from any thing which has been said, that Rozella's time was wholly occupied in domestic concerns, or that these were im­posed as a daily task. Her attention to these was granted as a favor; and it was made to yield to other improvements. "You can be useful to me, said Mrs. Bloomsgrove, by attending to these things, and by alleviating the burden of the serv­ants, who, you should recollect, are of the same species with yourself: they will love you and think labor more honorable for your taking a part in it, and will do it with more cheerfulness."

THE time which was spent in domestic occupations, was far from being lost in the view of a polished education. It rather facilitates than impedes progress in knowledge and polite literature. It fur­nishes [Page 38] many opportunities for putting in­to practice the useful parts of knowledge, and of practising many civilities, which become e [...]sy and graceful by use only. Another advantage flowing from those domestic exercises is, it prevents too great a degree of effeminacy, and inures to a little hardiness, which is requisite for oth­er reasons than the preservation of the health. The delicate and effeminate manner, in which many females are fos­tered when young, destroys their health, deprives them of the power of enjoying life, and entails on posterity enervated constitutions.

HENCE most writers on education bring up to view, the Spartan and Roman young ladies mixing with the young men in mil­itary games, wrestling, and other violent exercises. This practice was said to have been introduced with a view of rendering the female constitution healthy and ro­bust, that their states might never be wanting in well nerved sons for defence at [Page 39] home, or for carrying on their military operations abroad. But these exercises seem to me too athletic, to have the force of example upon our ladies, who do not wish their sons to be soldiers, nor their daughters wrestlers. All that is necessary for health, is plain food, with frequent exercise. English females far exceed those in this country in the exercise of walking. I am told that it is no uncom­mon thing for them to walk several miles, of choice, when they might have passed it in a coach.

ELOISA has the following observa­tions, charmingly made, in a letter to her friend.

"PERSUADED as I am of the influ­ence which our sex might have over yours, and which, in many cases, they actually possess, I have always been as­tonished at the impolicy of keeping them in so much ignorance, as they generally are. Did your sex but once recollect that the statesman, the warrior, and the philos­opher, [Page 40] who swell the boasted appellation of man, into importance, unfold the first traces of genius, as well as of virtue, under the fostering tenderness of maternal care, they would certainly be solicitous to have them intelligent and wise, as well as ten­der.

"THO I feel not the advantage of a well formed understanding, yet my heart ought to be good, for it was formed beneath the cherishing hand of the best of mothers. I was not trained and disciplined to vir­tue by cold and lifeless precepts. I was soothed, I was persuaded by the most amiable of examples. I was never taught [...] virtue, which I did not see eminently practised. My faults never escaped the scrutiny of maternal solicitude; but I was only pained at being reprehended by the bitter consciousness of meriting cor­rection.

"IF I did a good action, I was not flat­tered and made vain by applause, but re­warded with the smiles of assurance, that I had done my duty, and was approved. [Page 41] Her sweet and gentle affability of man­ners, as far removed from the levity of childhood as the frowns of austerity, en­gaged my entire confidence. Some of the happiest, the most silvered moments of my life, I have passed with this [...]eloved mother. Had she kept me at an awful distance, and never condescended to ap­pear interested in my childish pursuits, I had never dared to confide those pursuits to her; and that fear would have taught me to dissemble, before I knew the mean­ing of the word.

"IT is very natural for children, and I believe the propensity grows up with us, to love those best who appear most interested in our happiness. As I never found any person at once so tender and so watchful of me, who guarded me from danger, and met my infantile advances with such cor­dial delight, it was impossible but I should love, respect, and confide in her more than in any other created being. My duty, my reason, my self love, all combine with my inclination in forming the gor­dian [Page 42] knot that binds her closely to my heart. But for the most unceasing care of her ever wakeful tenderness, I had now been mouldering in the grave. What obligations has her goodness laid me un­der! and what inducements could be laid before a child to pursue a line of conduct agreeable to a parent, so strong and effectual as these?

"N. B. I COULD only give you my sen­timents on female education, which you request, by repeating to you the ideas which you have already seen better ex­pressed by Madame de Genlis, Mrs. Ch [...]pone, and other writers on the sub­ject, or by giving you a sketch from my own experience. I have ventured on the latter, and hope it will not be unaccept­able from

LETTER LVIII.

MUCH has been said by Rousseau and others on the subject of the submis­sion of women. If by the term, they mean to express any inferiority of species, or a surrender of any natural rights, there cannot be any ground in nature, or any reason in society, for the odious idea. If they mean that women should submit to the caprice of man's will, because of his superior strength, then they are prisoners at discretion; which is an idea equally detestable. But if nothing more is in­tended by it, than that delicate modesty which is a dictate of female nature, and the effect of conscious weakness, which leads them to look to men as their pro­tectors; it will be the delight of every sensible woman to exercise her daughter in the habits of it. No woman of under­standing, or of goodness, would attempt to subvert the order of nature, and train her daughter to masculine sentiments and manners. There is no decent woman [Page 44] but would be mortified at having it said she ruled her husband, especially if it was true. To have it said, that she has a complaisant husband, is the pride of every woman; as it is of every husband to have it said of his wife, that she has all that sensibility of heart, that delicacy of sentiment, and pliability of manners which belong to her sex.

IN order that the voice of nature may be obeyed; that the modesty and delica­cy which is the glory of the sex, and the palladium of virtue, may be preserved, it is necessary that females be habituated to restraint. This will be an unavoidable attendant of female life; and without it they cannot preserve consistency of char­acter.

I FIND it difficult to express myself with clearness and precision on this part of the subject. I beg leave to advance under the standard of Lord Kaimes and Rousseau. "Women, says the first, des­tined by nature to be obedient," (to be under restraint, I think, would have ex­pressed [Page 45] the idea better) "ought to be disciplined early to bear wrongs without murmuring. This is a hard lesson; and yet it is nec­essary even for their own sakes." "The perverseness and ill nature of the women only serve to aggravate their own misfor­tunes, and the misconduct of their hus­bands; they might plainly perceive that such are not the arms by which they gain the superiority."

"SULLENNESS or peevishness, say both, may alienate the husband, but tend not to sooth his roughness, nor to moderate his impetuosity. Heaven did not bestow on them the powers of insinuation, to make them perverse and morose; it did not constitute them feeble, to make them im­perious; it did not give them so soft and agreeable a voice, to vent abuse; nor fea­tures so delicate and lovely, to be disfigur­ed with anger."

BUT after all, says the NOBLE writer, "has nature dealt so partially with her children, as to bestow on one sex absolute authority, leaving nothing to the other [Page 46] absolute submission? This indeed has the appearance of great partiality. But has a woman no influence over her husband? I answer, providence has provided her with means to rule over his will. He governs by law, she by persuasion; nor can her influence ever fail, if supported by sweetness of temper and zeal to make him happy."

ROUSSEAU charmingly says—"Hers is a sovereignty founded on complacence and address: caresses are her orders; tears, her menaces. She governs in a family as a minister does in the state, pro­curing commands to be laid upon her, for doing what she inclines to do." And adds—"When they give way to rage, therefore, they forget themselves, for tho they may often have reason to complain, they are always in the wrong to SCOLD.^* Each sex should preserve its peculiar tone and manner; a meek husband may make a wife impertinent; but mildness of dis­position [Page 47] on the woman's side will always bring a man back to reason, if he be not absolutely a brute, and will sooner or later triumph over him."

THE influence of females over the man­ners of the world is sufficiently great and extensive. It is only to be wished that their education might be such, as to direct that power to the best purposes. "That little boy you see there, said Themistocles, is the arbiter of all Greece: for he gov­erns his mother; his mother rules me; I, the Athenians; and the Athenians, all the other Greeks."

SUBMISSION in females does not there­fore imply the least servility of obedience to capricious men, but only an acquies­cence in the constitution of nature, which, having formed them of finer materials, renders them more feeble in habit, more susceptible in heart, and more complacent in manners. With these arms nature has furnished them for defence at every point. When they employ these, they follow nature, and success attends them. But [Page 48] when they commence hostilities, and com­mit the decision to the event of the field, they must surrender prisoners at discre­tion.

TO cherish this softness, pliability, and power of self restraint, is one great object of female education. It is under her mother's tuition, and from her example, that a young lady acquires the knowledge of what properly constitutes the female character, and the habits of restraint. Rozella is all submission to her mamma, without the use of any severity. She is modest but not bashful; is sprightly and tractable, but not unhappy under re­straint. In her mamma she sees a con­stant example of those domestic qualities, which are requisite to conjugal and do­mestic enjoyment; that her inferiority in point of strength is amply compensated in the commanding gentleness of her man­ners; that her empire is attendant on her virtues. She reigns triumphant in the mildness of her disposition, and her mod­esty renders her sway absolute. It is in [Page 49] this way that nature has provided a bal­ance of power between the sexes.

LETTER LIX.

THE evening was overcast; and the soft murmur of expiring day had in­duced Fanny to the window, that she might enjoy the cheerful note of a music­al trush, sweetly warbling in a neighbor­ing grove. A pleasing melancholy sooth­ed and harmonized all her feelings, and raised her grateful heart to him whose praise it sung. While meek eyed con­templation soft effused its balmy influence over her gentle spirit, a stranger called with a large packet, which he said he was to deliver there, and went directly away. Fanny, who supposed it to contain some papers from Mr. Bloomsgrove, who was then at the general assembly, sat down to enjoy the reverie which had been inter­rupted by the incident. Mrs. Blooms­grove, who had been occupied in some [Page 50] domestic concerns, hearing somebody at the door, ordered a candle into the room where Fanny was sitting—Judge, my dear sir, what must have been her sur­prise, when she saw the budget was di­rected to her! She read the letter with avidity. It was from her twin sister Constantia; of whom, as I have had no occasion to speak till this time, I shall on­ly say: She is sensible without ostenta­tion; tall without elegance; agreeable without beauty; amiable without a dis­play of virtues, and admired without a fortune.

HAVING read the letter, which contain­ed many family matters with which we have no concern at this time; she per­ceived that the books, contained in the budget, were a present from her brother Edward, who was then in England. The books she unfolded, and opening one of them, she saw at the head of a section, the complaint of a female concerning the in­sensibility of men to the charms of a fe­male mind cultivated with polite and solid [Page 51] learning. The piece drew her attention; and she sat down and read it. Just as she had done it, Mrs. Bloomsgrove and Rozella came into the room. Fanny read to them the letter, which was very affectionate, and closed with many respect­ful compliments for the family. After some conversation suggested by the letter, Fanny related what she had been reading, which was in substance as follows.

A YOUNG lady, who was the daughter of a gentleman of literature, having lost, her mother when she was very young, was educated by her father. As he lived in a solitary village and had leisure, he devot­ed much of his time to her; and, being fond of classical learning himself, he in­troduced her into an acquaintance with several languages. The attention she had paid to these (I suppose) made her neg­lect some more agreeable and useful im­provements; for she complained that she did not meet a very favorable recep­tion in company. As she was very learn­ed and wrote poetry well, she thought it [Page 52] beneath her to attend to dress and the et­iquette of the polite world. Tho she was versed in the sciences, and had been taught music and even dancing, yet she was unversed in domestic science. "She can make verses, said the gentlemen wit­tily; but give me the woman who can make a pudding." She complained that after all her improvements, and her en­deavors to prevent them from becoming invidious, she was avoided by her own sex, and treated with the cold formality of constrained civilities by the gentle­men.

WHEN Fanny had finished, the con­versation turned upon the pedantry of some of the female literati, in which many smart things were said by the young ladies, as well as by Mrs. Bloomsgrove, who gracefully descended to their pleasantries on this occasion. After a little diversion at the expense of a certain description of LEARNED ladies, she resumed her usual serenity and dignity in conversing with her family; and availed herself of the [Page 53] occasion to make many judicious remarks on female propriety, and on the true ex­cellence of the female character. To her own observations she added many anec­dotes useful and entertaining, some of which I will offer for your perusal in my next.

LETTER LX.

YOU will not expect that I shall give a particular detail of the evening's conversation; nor that I relate exactly and in order, all the particulars of Mrs. Bloomsgrove's judicious and instructive observations. I shall relate them as they occur.

THE path of life, on which you, my dear girls, are entering, is narrow, wind­ing, and intricate: you can see but little way in the devious course, and therefore must be watchful at every step you take. Life, in its best condition, is a mixed state: thorns growing with flowers attend [Page 54] our whole progress. But life is very much that to us which we make it to be. The condition of young females is pecu­liarly critical, and requires to be guarded by c [...]nstant circumspection; but there are pleasures peculiar to the female life, which, by maintaining their proper char­acter, will afford a full balance against all its difficulties.

THE dignity of that character consists in an equal mixture of reserve with be­nevolence; of modesty with civility; of a sense of the refinement of female virtue, with a degree of prudence void of affecta­tion. Consider how tender a thing a woman's reputation is; how hard to pre­serve; and, when lost, how much harder to recover; how frail many of the gifts you have received, and how dangerous most of them; what miseries have been occasioned by an abuse of them, and how great the accessions of enjoyment in life by a proper use of them.

VANITY, a foible too incident to our sex, is, if possible, more absurd than in the [Page 55] other sex. Men have bodily strength, learning, power, and the like, to pride themselves upon. Beauty is the only pe­culiar boast of a female; for virtue and good sense are never the subjects of van­ity. Against this folly it will be necessary to guard, or it will grow with years, and become as obvious as it is disgusting. Wha [...]ever misfortune the want of beauty may be to a young lady, it is a greater misfortune to be vain of it.

I WILL give you an instance, my dear children, which will illustrate my idea. "A youth from the country went to a neighboring fair, where were to be exhib­ited a number of foreign animals, as well tame and useful, as beasts of prey. An animal of uncommon size, but great ug­liness, first presented itself to his astonish­ed view. After surveying the monster, with great surprise and some degree of fear, his attention was called to an animal of a beautiful and elegant form. When he had, for some time, contemplated the smoothness of its hair, the symmetry of [Page 56] its limbs, and especially the apparent sweetness of its countenance, he inquired of the keeper, the name of that beautiful animal; and whether he did no [...] place it hy the side of that ugly creature, in order that it might shine the more by the con­trast. The intelligent keeper admonish­ed the young man to be cautious not to be too easily captivated with external ap­pearance. The animal which you so much admire is called a tiger, and not­withstanding his placid appearance, he is fierce and savage beyond description, and is an untameable beast of prey. But the one you despise, which is a camel, is a docile, affectionate animal, and highly useful to man."

YOU cannot but perceive, continued Mrs. Bloomsgrove, that mere external beauty is of little worth, and that deformity, when associated with amiable dispositions and useful qualities, does not preclude our respect and approbation. I would not be understood to despise, or even un­dervalue beauty. Where it is the gift of [Page 57] nature, we ought to value and cherish it, as we should all her other gifts. But if the possessor spends her mornings at the toilet, and under the hands of the fris­eur; and her evenings in company, to display the additional beauty she derives from adventitious ornaments, her mind must be neglected, while her heart is cor­rupted by flattery and poisoned by van­ity. They who live only to display a pretty face and a fine dress, can scarcely be ranked above an insensible statue, or a painted image. A head without under­standing will always appear contemptible, whether it be covered with a cap or a wig.

A FEMALE, who plumes herself on her beauty, is in great danger of having her temper soured by the apprehension of flights and neglects with which she meets. One instance of this will cancel a thousand flatteries of professed admirers. The re­petition of them irritates the spirits; and the mind, being awake to the least ap­pearance of inattention, is so often in a ferment, that sourness of temper is the [Page 58] consequence. Sickliness, fears, false del­icacies, pride, affectation, and weakness of nerves, are incidents not uncommon to females of this stamp. Finding them­selves admired without saying or doing any thing worthy of notice, they save themselves the trouble of acquiring any valuable accomplishments. A taste for reading and a habit of thinking would be too much trouble for them. But beauty is a rose that soon withers. With the loss of that, they lose the power of pleasing others; and, what is still worse, possess not the power of pleasing themselves.

I HAVE, indeed, known very beautiful women, who have been educated with un­common care, both sensible and amiable. Their beauty was doubly valuable, when combined with a cultivated understand­ing, and the moral qualities of the heart. There are now to be found many in­stances, which shew to the world, that fe­males may possess beauty without vanity, and learning without pedantry.

LETTER LXI.

THE next evening being very pleas­ant, they were induced by the serenity of the sky and the mildness of the season to walk in the shrubbery. As they were re­peating some things which had passed the evening before, Mrs. Bloomsgrove ob­served, that all she had then said was veri­fied in the character of Catharina, Em­press of Russia. In her were united vir­tue, with beauty; piety, with poverty; humility and great benevolence, with great prosperity. Fanny joined with Rozella in earnestly requesting her to re­peat her story; to which she readily con­sented. They repaired to the bowery; and being seated where the moon shone pleasantly upon them, she related the fol­lowing part of her history.

"CATHARINA was born in a small city in Livonia, and heir to no other in­heritance than the virtues and frugality of her parents. Her father being dead, she lived with her aged mother, in their [Page 60] cottage covered with straw; and both tho very poor, were very contented. Here, retired from the gaze of the world, by the labor of her hands she supported her par­ent, who was now incapable of supporting herself. While Catharina spun, the mother would sit by, and read some book of devotion: thus, when the fatigues of the day were over, both would sit down by their fire side, and enjoy the frugal meal with vacant festivity.

"THO her face and person were models of perfection, yet her whole attention seemed bestowed on her mind: her moth­er taught her to read, and an old Luther­an clergyman instructed her in the max­ims and duties of religion. Nature had furnished her not only with a ready, but a solid turn of thought; not only with a strong, but a right understanding. Such truly female accomplishments procured her several solicitations of marriage from the peasants of the country; but their of­fers were refused, for she loved her moth­er too tenderly to think of a separation.

[Page 61]"CATHARINA was fifteen, when her mother died: she now, therefore, left her cottage, and went to live with the Luther­an minister, by whom she had been in­structed from her childhood. In his house she resided in quality of governess to his children, at once reconciling in her character, unerring prudence with sur­prising vivacity.

"THE old man, who regarded her as one of his own children, had her instruct­ed in dancing and music, by the master who attended the rest of the family. Thus she continued to improve until he died, by which accident she was once more reduced to pristine poverty. The country of Livonia was at this time wast­ed by war, and lay in a state of desola­tion. Those calamities are ever most heavy upon the poor; whereof Catharina, tho possessed of so many accomplishments, experienced all the miseries of hopeless indigence. Provisions becoming every day more scarce, and her private stock be­ing entirely exhausted, she resolved at last [Page 62] to travel to Marienburgh, a city of great plenty.

"WITH her scanty wardrobe, packed up in a wallet, she set out on her journey on foot. She was to walk thro a region miserable by nature, but rendered still more hideous by the Swedes and Rus­sians, who alternately plundered it at dis­cretion: but h [...]nger had taught her to despise the dangers of the way.

"ONE evening, upon her journey, as she had entered a cottage by the way side, to take up her lodging for the night, she was insulted by two Swedish soldiers. They might, probably, have carried their insults into violence, had not a subaltern officer accidentally passing, come to her assistance. Upon his approach the sol­diers immediately desisted; but her thank­fulness was not greater than her surprise, when she instantly recollected in her de­liverer, the son of the Lutheran minister, her former instructor, benefactor, and friend.

[Page 63]"THIS was an happy interview for Catharina: the little stock of money she had brought from home, was by this time quite exhausted; her clothes were gone piece by piece, in order to satisfy those who entertained her in their houses. Her generous countryman parted with what he could spare, to buy her clothes; fur­nished her with an horse, and gave her letters of recommendation to a faithful friend of his father, who was then super­intendant of Ma [...]burgh.

"OUR beautiful stranger had only to appear, to b [...] well received: she was im­mediately admitted into the superintend­ant's family, as governess to his two daughters; and tho yet but seventeen, shewed herself capable of instructing her sex, not only in virtue, but politeness. Such was her good sense and beauty, that her master himself, in a short time, offered her his hand, which, to his great surprise, she thought proper to refuse. Actuated by a principle of gratitude, she was re­solved to marry her deliverer only, even [Page 64] tho he had lost an arm, and was otherwise disfigured in the service.

"IN order, therefore, to prevent fur­ther solicitations from others, as soon as the officer came to town upon duty, she offered him her person, which he accept­ed with transport, and their nuptials were solemnized according to custom. But all the lines of her fortune were to be striking. The very day on which they were married, the Russians laid siege to Marienburgh: the unhappy soldier had no time to enjoy the well earned pleasures of the connubial state: he was immediate­ly called off to an attack, from which he was never after seen to return.

"IN the mean time the siege went on with fury, aggravated on one side by ob­stinacy, on the other by revenge. This war between the two northern powers at that time was truly barbarous. The in­nocent peasant, and the harmless virgin often shared the fate of the soldier in arms. Marienburgh was taken by assault; and such was the fury of the assailants, [Page 65] that not only the garrison, but almost all the inhabitants, men, women, and child­ren, were put to the sword. At length, when the carnage was pretty well over, Catharina was found hid in an oven.

"SHE had hitherto been poor, but free; she was now to conform to her hard fate, and learn what it was to be a slave: in this situation, however, she behaved with piety and humility; and tho misfor­tunes had abated her vivacity, yet she was cheerful. The fame of her merit and resignation reached even the Prince Menzikoff, the Russian general: he de­sired to see her—was struck with her beauty—bought her of the soldier, her master, and placed her under the di­rection of his own sister. Here she was treated with the respect which her merit deserved, while her beauty every day im­proved with her good fortune.

"SHE had not been long in this situa­tion, when Peter the Great paying the Prince a visit, Catharina happened to come in with some dry fruits, which she [Page 66] served round with peculiar modesty. The mighty monarch saw, and was struck with her beauty. He returned the next day— called for the beautiful slave—asked her several questions, and found her under­standing even more perfect than her person.

"HE had been forced, when young, to marry from motives of interest; he was now resolved to marry pursuant to his own inclinations. He immediately in­quired the history of this fair Livonian, who was not yet eighteen. He traced her thro the vale of obscurity, thro all the vicissitudes of fortune, and found her truly great in them all. The meanness of her birth was no obstruction to his design. Their nuptials were solemnized; the prince assuring his courtiers, that virtue alone was the surest path to greatness.

"WE now see Catharina, from the low mud walled cottage, Empress of the great­est kingdom upon earth. The poor sol­itary wanderer is now surrounded by thousands, who find happiness in her [Page 67] smiles. She, who formerly wanted a meal, is now capable of diffusing plenty upon the whole nation. To her fortune she owed a part of this preeminence, but to her virtue more.

"SHE ever retained those great quali­ties which first placed her on a throne; and while the extraordinary prince, her husband, labored for the reformation of his male subjects, she studied in her turn the improvement of her own sex. She altered their dresses—introduced mixed assemblies—instituted an order of female knighthood—and, at length, when she had greatly filled all the stations of em­press, friend, wife, and mother, bravely died without regret, regretted by all."

SHE ceased—the young ladies sat in silent astonishment at the variety and greatness of incidents which attended this lovely woman. The full tide of nature had prevented their utterance, and they waited for Mrs. Bloomsgrove to break the silence, which she did after a little pause. She observed to them that new beauties [Page 68] arose in every circumstance which attend­ed the various fortunes of this extraordi­nary person. Her dutifulness to an aged mother; her attachment to the clergyman who patronized her; gratitude to her de­liverer; fidelity to her master; her resig­nation and cheerfulness in the depth of adversity; her modesty, humility, and charity in the height of prosperity, all de­rived lustre from the peculiarity of cir­cumstances which brought them into view, and formed the materials of an ex­cellent character.

IMITATE, my dear children, her pie­ty in every part of life; her cheerful ac­quiescence in the disposals of providence; the humility, modesty, and beneficence, which were assembled in her character; and altho I cannot promise you the title of Empresses, yet I can ensure you hap­piness in this life, and in the other, a CROWN that shall never fade, whose princely wreaths shall flourish in immor­tal green.—She was interrupted by an incident; with which, as it was of no [Page 69] other consequence than to prevent fur­ther conversation for the evening, I shall not trouble you.

LETTER LXII.

THE drawing room was hung a­round with evergreen, interspersed with globe amaranthus and a variety of other flowers, which, tho a little faded at this season, afforded a contrast to every thing gloomy and cheerless. In this spacious and delightsome room they assembled the evening following, for the purpose of reading and conversation. As industry marked the character of the family, so they were all employed in some produc­tive labor, except the one who was read­ing. This was certainly a rational, as well as an economical way of spending their evenings; as it gave Mrs. Bloomsgrove an opportunity to advance many useful and instructive observations, which generally slowed from what they read. This even­ing [Page 70] she enriched her conversation with a variety of sprightly observations and a­greeable anecdotes. The conversation happening to turn upon a certain class of females, whose conduct lessens the dignity and degrades the character of the sex; it reminds me, said Mrs. Bloomsgrove, of an humorous transaction of Dr. Swift, when on a visit to Dr. Sheridan at his country seat. "He went one Sunday to church, at the distance of more than two hours ride. The clergyman of the parish invited him to dinner, but Swift excused himself by saying it was too far to ride home afterwards; no, I shall dine with my neighbor Reilly, at Virginy, which is half way home. Reilly, who was there called a gentleman farmer, was proud of the honor, and immediately sent a mes­senger to his wife to prepare for the re­ception of so extraordinary a guest. She dressed herself in her best apparel; the son put on his new suit, and his silver laced hat adorned his head. When the lady was introduced to the Dean, he sa­luted [Page 71] her with the same air, as if she had been a dutchess, making several congees down to the ground, and then handed her with great formality to her seat.

"AFTER some polite compliments, he addressed his host—'Mr. Reilly, I sup­pose you have a considerable estate here; let us go and look over your demesne.' Estate, says Reilly, not a foot of land is there belonging to me, or any of my gen­eration. I have a pretty good lease here, indeed, from Lord Fingal, but he threat­ens me that he will not renew it, and I have but a few years of it to come.

"WELL—but when am I to see Mrs. Reilly? 'Why, don't you see her now before you?' That Mrs. Reilly! impossi­ble! I have heard she was a prudent woman, and as such would never dress herself in silks, and other ornaments, fit only for ladies of fashion. No—Mrs. Reilly, the farmer's wife, would never wear any thing better than plain stuff, with other things suitable to it. Mrs. Reilly happened to be a woman of good [Page 72] sense, and taking the hint, immediately withdrew, changed her dress as speedily as possible, and in a short time returned to the parlour in her common apparel. Swift saluted her in the most friendly manner, taking her by the hand, and say­ing, 'I am heartily glad to see you, Mrs. Reilly. This husband of yours would fain have palmed a fine lady upon me, all dressed in her silks, and in the pink of the mode, for his wife, but I was not to be taken in so.'

"HE then laid hold of the young mas­ter's fine hat, with his penknife ripped off the lace, and folding it up in several papers, thrust it into the fire. When it was sufficiently burnt, he wrapped it up in fresh paper, and put it in his pocket. It may be supposed that the family was put into no small confusion at this strange proceeding; but they did not dare shew that they took any umbrage at it, as the presence of Dr. Swift struck every one with uncommon awe, who was not well acquainted with him.

[Page 73]"HOWEVER, as he soon resumed his good humor, entertaining them with many pleasantries to their taste (for no man knew better how to adapt his con­versation to all classes of people) they soon recovered their spirits, and the day was passed very cheerfully. When he was taking his leave, he said, I do not in­tend to rob you, Mr. Reilly; I shall take nothing away with me belonging to you; there's your son's hat lace. I have only changed the form of it to a much better one. So God bless you, and thanks for your good entertainment.

"WHEN he was gone, Mrs. Reilly opening the paper, found there were four guineas enclosed in it, together with the burnt lace. While he stayed in the coun­try, he kept an eye upon them, and found his lessons had not been thrown away, as they were cured of their vanities and af­fectation of grandeur, and lived in a man­ner more consonant to their situation in life. In consequence of which, one of the first things he did on his return to Dub­lin, [Page 74] was to pay a visit to Lord Fingal, and engage him to renew Reilly's lease; with­out which the poor man would, in a few years, have had nothing for his own or his family's support."

YOU see, my dear children, the senti­ments which gentlemen of abilities and distinction entertain of affectation. All attempts to please by an appearance, or by manners which do not properly belong to us, are not only lost, but become the occasion of raillery and contempt. Who­ever seeks admiration and applause by means of affectation, acts as wise a part as the female, who, seeking after beauty, de­stroys her real complexion and her health by artificial paints. I have seen ladies, in public places, of the most exquisite forms, render themselves perfectly ridiculous by a conceited and affected air, a simpering smile, or a general air of disdain. Those ladies, who might, by a modest and truly female behavior, have com­manded universal admiration, became the disgust of the company, and the [Page 75] subject of ridicule in every circle af­terwards.

AFFECTATION in men is bad enough, but in women, whose conduct should al­ways be easy and proper, it is much worse. Indeed, added Mrs. Bloomsgrove, it is generally owing to the other sex that af­fectation appears in ours; for no woman can become completely foolish, or vicious, without their assistance; and then they despise her for it.

AFFECTATION is that in manners which hypocrisy is in religion—an attempt to impose on others by an appearance of qualities which we do not possess. We cannot pay ourselves a worse compliment than by affectation: it is a tacit acknowl­edgement that we ought to be what we are not. Like a mask, it may conceal our face; but is still known to be a false face. However common affectation may be, there is no failing more generally detest­ed, because it is used to hide all the other failings, and to display perfections to which we have no claim.

[Page 76]THIS is a folly incident to youth, but not confined to that age. It is generally worn off by age, and by an acquaintance with the world. It is always disgustful, not only because unnatural, but because it indicates a trifling vanity of mind. It usually arises from a fondness to imitate some one who is admired for superior ac­complishments. But it is blind and un­discerning, and adopts the infirmities and defects of the person admired, as readily as the beauties and the graces.

ADELINA is a young lady who has de­clined several advantageous offers of mar­riage, because she had too much virtue to give her hand where she could not bestow her heart. She moves in the first circle of females, without the help of a fortune; is handsome, without being beautiful; has an elegant form, and an engaging aspect; her natural good sense and lively genius are much improved by a polite education, with an extensive knowledge of books and of the world. She is agreeable in all companies, without descending to the fol­lies [Page 77] of any. In conversation she is al­ways entertaining. She is companiona­ble, but never loquacious, or assuming. She can be humorous, without departing from innocence, or the delicacy of her sex; witty, without ridiculing religion, or aspersing characters. She never morti­fies any one in her company, by a seeming indifference to what they say, nor offends any by direct contradiction; she rather insinuates, than imposes her sentiments upon those with whom she converses. Her language is pure and accurate, but not labored; her temper is calm, with great sensibility; her deportment is re­spectful without courtliness, and dignified without haughtiness.

ASPASIA is a young lady of more for­tune, but less genius; of more vanity, with less reason for it. She has had of­fers of marriage, but lost her lovers by coquetish airs. She is but little acquaint­ed with books, and less with the world. She is thought, by some, to be a beauty, but few think her pleasing; she is tall and [Page 78] straight, but not of a comely form; she is not without animation, but is not engag­ing; and yet she affects to be all this and more. Without a fund for conversation, she says much, but little to the purpose. She uses bad grammar, and a worse style; engrosses the conversation in company, and will venture upon any subject, because she thinks to imitate, and even excel, A­delina. Aspasia affects wit—politeness may induce some of the gentlemen to force a smile, but no one laughs at it: this she ascribes to any other cause rather than the want of smartness in her witti­cisms. Aspasia might pass for an agree­able companion, if she would act herself, and not affect to be something more than she really is. She would never appear to be destitute of wit or good sense, if she had enough of either to prevent forced attempts to display them.

"MAMMA, said Rozella, why do not some of her friends tell her how such af­fectation appears to others, and break her of it?" It is not easy, my dear, replied [Page 79] Mrs. Bloomsgrove, to break off bad hab­its; and besides, she might only attribute it to envy, if any one was to mention it to her; for nothing is more difficult than to make people see their own errors, espec­ially if they have much vanity. Do you, my dear, avoid affectation as you would a siren. Nothing conduces more to ren­der a person agreeable, than easy and graceful manners. That our manners, may be graceful, they must be natural; for actions which are forced, are stiff and awkward, and therefore disgustful. Shun affectation therefore in all its odious forms; assume no borrowed airs; and be content to please, to shine, or to be useful, in the way which nature points out, and which reason approves.—Just as Mrs. Bloomsgrove had finished these observa­tions on affectation, which I think you will allow were judicious, the nephew re­turned from a neighboring county, whith­er he had been to transact some business of his own. As the most perfect harmony subsisted between all the members of this [Page 80] family, they suspended all further conver­sation on the subject of female conduct, to welcome him home after a few weeks ab­sence. But the young ladies wished for the next evening to arrive, that they might have the pleasure of hearing more on that subject.

LETTER LXIII.

THE next day, being on a visit at Mr. —'s where a large number of la­dies were collected, they were entertained by the conversation of Miss —, a lady who had been some years out of her teens, but had not lost the power of speech. This lady had been a great reader; but her reading had not furnished her with the most useful knowledge, nor the sound­est judgment. Her conversation consisted of such materials, as are to be found in books written merely to amuse the mind, without instructing it; to vacate the passing hour, without leaving one useful [Page 81] impression. Shady groves and purling streams, fashions, etiquette, and romantic scenes of love and high life, filled up the mighty void, and wasted the afternoon.

AS this lady was a stranger, lately arrived from the capital on a visit, the inconveni­ence of her perpetual motion was endured with that fortitude and calmness which true politeness inspired. But the close of the day was far from being; the least agreeable part of it. To a woman of Mrs. Blooms­grove's clear understanding and solid judgment, nothing could have appeared more insipid: she was glad, therefore, to retire at as early an hour, as she could with propriety. The young ladies, who had been mute most of the time during the visit, recovered the power of speech, as soon as they returned. Tho Mrs. Bloomsgrove never allowed them in the use of any scandal; nor did she common­ly permit them to make any remarks to the disadvantage of any one of the company they had left, yet on this occasion she in­dulged them in a few liberties of speech [Page 82] on "the elegance of the conversa­tion" with which they had been enter­tained.

FINDING themselves once more assem­bled in their own circle, Mrs. Blooms­grove renewed the conversation which had been interrupted the evening before, in the following manner—I was going on to observe, when your cousin arrived last evening, and agreeably prevented my proceeding, that another thing which has a tendency to lessen the excellence of the female character, and render the minds of young ladies empty and vain, is the books they read, and the manner in which they spend their time. Nothing can have a worse effect on the mind of our sex, than the free use of those writings which are the offspring of modern novelists. Their only tendency is to excite romantic no­tions, while they keep the mind void of ideas, and the heart destitute of sentiment. They create a false taste, without balanc­ing the account by the weight of informa­tion and judgment.

[Page 83]I DO not mean, my dear girls, to inti­mate that all books bearing the denomina­tion of novels or plays, are of the above de­scription: there are many works of imag­ination, and of entertainment, which are the most agreeable vehicles of pure and excellent instruction. But the common herd of both those kinds of writing serve to corrupt the heart, while they prevent improvements in useful knowledge; and yet what a proportion of that agreeable part of life, from twelve to twenty years old, do many girls devote to this kind of amusement! It is amusement, only as it serves to waste the time insensibly.

THE female mind being left thus vacant, or filled with trifling and romantic ideas, it is not at all strange that the conversa­tion partakes of the same. The other sex laugh at the weakness of ours on this account. "In order to please the ladies, they say, they are obliged to trifle:" and this reflection appears but too well found­ed, when we observe how much better reception the empty skull, cringing fop, [Page 84] who can talk an hour without saying any thing to purpose, meets among females of this stamp, than the gentleman whose head is enriched with useful knowledge, and whose heart is formed by virtuous princi­ples. This is as great a reflection as can be cast upon our sex, and degrades the female character in the mind of all per­sons whose esteem is worth enjoying.

IT is not my wish that you, my dear children, should ever acquire the epithet Of LEARNED LADIES; but that you should enrich and adorn your minds with such knowledge, as will both raise you above the danger of being corrupted by the false taste, or the artful insinuation of any books you may read; and render you less dependent on external amusements and empty gratifications. If young girls indulge freely in reading books of mere amusement, these will unavoidably give their minds a cast, which can never be suitable to the useful part of a female character, which is wholly domestic. Let your understandings be enriched [Page 85] with attainments, which will enable you to shine in conversation, without affecting or even appearing to know it; to unite decorum and good sense with mirth and joy, and to inspire complacence, while you command attention and respect. How would it raise the female character in the view of the world, if young ladies would generally spend their leisure hours in reading books of this tendency?

BOOKS written with a view to convey instruction thro the channel of the imag­ination, are not only harmless and agree­able, but useful and improving to the young mind. To these I would turn your attention, as being proper to accom­pany the more solid parts of learning. The world abounds with works of this kind, where the enlightened authors dis­play genius, and a thoro knowledge of the world. With fine sensibilities, and an extensive view of men and manners, they address the heart with simplicity and chasteness, in a variety of images, where the likeness is caught warm from the life, [Page 86] sentiment is united with character, and the beautiful portrait presented to their mind.^*

AMONG all the writings, which unite sentiment with character, and present im­ages of life, Richardson's, perhaps, may be placed at the head of the list; of whom it has been justly said—"He taught the passions to move at the command of rea­son." His Clarissa has been considered, by good judges, as the most finished [Page 87] model of female excellence which has ever been offered for their imitation; and yet even this great master in the science of human nature, has laid open scenes, which it would have been safer to have kept concealed; and has excited senti­ments, which it would have been more advantageous to early virtue not to have admitted. He has pointed out dangers and temptations which seldom occur; and altho I doubt not that his novels were written with the purest intentions of pro­moting virtue, yet it is much to be feared whether the moral view is not lost by the youthful reader in those love scenes, which interest the passions more than the under­standing. The beautiful productions of his incomparable pen, are, therefore, to be read with caution, and under the di­rection of a guide.

THE same danger attends the works of Fielding. They will always be read with pleasure, because they exhibit a series of pictures drawn in a masterly manner; but they may corrupt a mind not well estab­lished [Page 88] in the principles of virtue. Smol­let has merit; but, on account of his unpolished humor, is not read with the same pleasure as the others.

ALL books which lead to a false taste of life and happiness, in which vicious characters are painted in captivating col­ors, their vices represented as manly graces, and their intrigues as genteel gal­lantries, are dangerous to the morals, and incompatible with the chaste mind of young females. It is a great unhappiness to a young woman to be destitute of wise parents, or faithful friends, to direct her to the choice of proper books of amuse­ment and entertainment. The little time which females can devote to reading, should be employed in the most econom­ical manner in perusing those books from which they may draw the most, and the purest sentiments.

THE extreme insipidity of many of our modern novels, one would suppose a suf­ficient preventive against their being read; and yet, with what avidity are they [Page 89] devoured by many young girls? The futility of many of them is an effectual security against their doing any other in­jury, than consuming that time which should be better employed. How much more profitably might young females spend their time in reading history, biog­raphy, travels, voyages, memoirs, and those periodical pieces where the powers of wit, fancy, and judgment, have united in exposing vice and folly, such as the Spectator, and many other ingenious writers who have pursued the same track? To these I would add geography, both as an agreeable study, and requisite to the reading of the others to advantage; and some acquaintance with astronomy, as a pleasing science and useful in expanding the mind to comprehend more of the Cre­ator's works, and to dilate the heart to universal being. To what cause shall we ascribe the general neglect of these studies by our sex? Is it because they have not solidity of judgment enough to relish them? or is it because they are not calcu­lated [Page 90] to touch the fancy and flatter the passions? To acknowledge either of these, as the cause of such neglect, would be humiliating to me as a woman; and yet what can remove just ground of sus­spicion that it is the case, unless our sex can be prevailed upon to pay greater at­tention to these more useful and solid parts of learning? Females should think, as well as read: by inuring themselves to this exercise, they will qualify them­selves for the stations they are to fill in life. If they read without reflection, they may store their memories with facts, but never will know how to apply them: less reading and more study and reflec­tion, therefore, would be of inconceivable advantage to them.

NO longer can our sex complain that they are depressed and kept in ignorance by man, who, jealous of dominion, is un­willing to furnish them with the means or opportunities of attaining knowledge. I am fully sensible that the female mind has been too much neglected in the domestic [Page 91] state, and more so at boarding schools.^* But you may be assured that when moth­ers shall discover as much zeal to accom­plish the mind, as the person of their daughters, there will be little room left for complaint of the meanness and cruelty of men in keeping the sex in ignorance. Or when females shall discover as great a thirst for knowledge as for dress; and when they shall be able to forego a party of pleasure which comes in competition with the duties of life, or the pursuits in useful science—what will hinder their improvements? Yea, what will prevent their gaining eminence in literature? Books are to be had in plenty, which convey the most useful instruction, and that in a pleasing manner; but in order [Page 92] to profit by them, they must be read with attention and reflection. Females have more time for reading than the other sex, and actually read more books. Why then are they not as well versed in solid and useful literature? evidently, because they neglect those studies which have a tendency to enlarge the mind, enrich the understanding, and expand the heart.

IT is a suggestion unsupported by fact, that women are either feared or despised by the other sex on account of their being learned: both those passions may be ex­cited for the want of it, and by the ped­antry of some females. A woman who affects to dispute, to decide, to dictate on every subject; who watches or makes op­portunities of throwing out scraps of lite­rature, or smatterings of science in every company; who engrosses the conversa­tion, as if she alone was qualified to en­tertain, and discovers more inclination, to shine than capacity to effect it, such an one will justly become the object of ridi­cule and contempt. In this case she is [Page 93] despised, not for having too much knowl­edge, but too little; for an attempt to display more learning than she has. It is shallow water that makes the most sound: deep rivers flow silently along, and bear down all before them. Wherever real learning appears, matured by reflection, accompanied with judgment and unas­suming manners, it will never disgust, but always give pleasure to every man or woman of discernment and worth; and will inspire even the envious with awe and respect.

I HAVE hitherto said nothing of the im­portance and advantages of reading the scriptures and books of devotion. I am happy, my dear Fanny and Rozella, that your attachment to those writings pre­cludes the necessity of my saying much on that head. There is a majesty in the scriptures peculiar to themselves; a plain­ness and simplicity of style, to which the meanest capacities are competent, and yet an elegance which renders them pleasing to the greatest. The historic part is filled [Page 94] up with such a variety of incidents and interesting events, as to combine in one view, all the advantages of character and sentiment, description and precept; to paint the different shades of virtue and vice in real life and genuine character. All the human passions, with their various operations, are unfolded in the numerous scenes exhibited, and the picture present­ed to the heart thro the medium of the imagination. Besides the agreeableness of the narrative and its instructive tend­ency, there is a refinement of benevolence, a sublimity of morals, an extent and per­fection of precept and example, which cannot fail to entertain, please, and enno­ble the mind of the attentive reader.— Mrs. Bloomsgrove was going on in this sublime strain of panegyric on the scrip­tures, when Mr. Bloomsgrove's unexpect­ed arrival, at so late an hour, put an end to her proceeding further on the subject.

LETTER LXIV.

PERSONAL qualities are of infi­nitely more consequence, than those which are merely adventitious, and transient in their nature; such as beauty, dress, or any external embellishments. Fond mothers too often prefer beauty before every other qualification; and if their daughters are possessed of that, dress is studied with great assiduity—vanity is in­spired by flattery—but the more useful and durable qualities are neglected. Cornelia, daughter of Scipio the Great, and mother of the Roman Gracchi, who makes a distinguished figure in the histo­ry of Rome, was visited by a lady of rank, who valued dress, and was remarkable for an elegant toilet. Observing every thing plain in Cornelia's apartment—"Madam, says she, I wish to see your toilet, for it must be superb." Cornelia waved the subject until her children came from school.—"These, my good friend, are my ornaments, and all I have for a toilet."

[Page 96]IN Mrs. Bloomsgrove, America can boast a Roman matron, as in her husband, more than Roman greatness of soul. Sensible that dress may make a FINE woman, and beauty command a transient admiration, but that good sense and vir­tue alone can preserve what beauty gains, she attended to these as the richest and most durable ornaments of her sex. In dress and ornaments, for Rozella, her mamma does not disregard the fashion, but instructs her always to yield to pro­priety; assuring her, at the same time, that simplicity in dress, as well as man­ners, is most becoming.

SHE takes her daughter into polite cir­cles; but enjoins upon her affability to­wards all classes of people. When on a visit to her at the boarding school, she ac­companies Rozella to the ball; but, to check that avidity for pleasure which too often precipitates young girls into a round of dissipation, takes an opportunity to shew her that such pleasures are to be considered as mere amusement—unfit to [Page 97] employ much of the time of a young woman, who is destined by nature to more important concerns—the care and govern­ment of a family.

IT was under the care of Mrs. —, that she made great improvements in a graceful deportment and in the etiquette of the fashionable world. This lady was celebrated for her piety and good sense; and for her attention to the minds and morals of those misses who were commit­ted to her care. Rozella's parents were not willing to place her at any boarding school till they could find such an one; nor was she placed under the care of Mrs. —, till she had passed that giddy age at which misses are too commonly sent to such schools, and before they have judg­ment to make the best use of the oppor­tunity for improvement. On this ac­count her preceptress was able to enlarge her mind, and regulate her heart, as well as embellish her manners; for reading the scriptures and books of useful knowledge, as well as works of taste and imagination, [Page 98] made a part of the daily exercise of this school.

HAVING an exquisitely fine ear for music, a master was provided to instruct her in that pleasing art. In a few months she acquired a considerable know [...]edge of the theory, and, by practice, became a complete mistress of the business. Those who have a great taste for music, I think, ought to be encouraged; but it is ridicul­ous for one who has neither voice nor ear to throw away that time in forcing nature, which might be spent to more useful pur­poses. I am acquainted with a lady, who has long been attended by a music master, at the enormous price usually set on that service, and has learned to touch every note by rule. I know another, who, nev­er having received any instruction, but being possessed of a fine ear for music, will play any tune after a few times hearing it. The artificial performance of the one will always give pain to the company, while the natural air of the other will never fail to communicate the most sensible delight.

[Page 99]VOCAL music may be more easily ac­quired than instrumental. This falls within the reach of most people, and should be a part of the education of every female, as well to enable them "to sooth the cares of domestic life," as "to join in that pleasing part of public worship which consisteth in psalmody." This was also a branch of instruction at the boarding school, where Rozella acquired a thoro acquaintance with that celestial science.

DRAWING is also a pleasing art, where there is a natural taste for it; and it is an accomplishment not altogether useless; but without that taste, it ought never to be attempted. Neither the usefulness of the art, nor the time or abilities of people in this country, will justify its being a nec­essary part of a polite education. Rozel­la having early discovered a natural geni­us for drawing, was indulged with an op­portunity of gratifying her inclination.

I NEED not mention that dancing made a part of the instruction of this school, nor that a young lady of Rozella's activity, [Page 100] distinguished herself at so graceful an ex­ercise. To be a good player is no index of mental faculties; it requires only a fine ear, with perseverance. But to dance with grace and expression, is an index of the mind; a certain dignity of mind is requisite, supported by good sense: and besides, the general deportment and gest­ure will partake of the easy elegance which is thereby acquired. "Much time, how­ever, in teaching a girl to dance, is thrown away, if she has not a pregnant genius: it is sufficient that her motions be made easy to prevent her being awkward."

ROZELLA was to have spent a few months longer at the school, but a circum­stance of an interesting nature suddenly called her home, and she did not return to it any more. Fanny was seized with a violent fever which threatened her life; and indeed it was wholly despaired of by her physician. Rozella was sent for—she flies with all speed to her dear Fanny— was deluged in tears at seeing her, and never left her bed side, until her symp­toms [Page 101] became more favorable, which took place in about twenty four hours after her arrival. After a long confinement, she was restored to health; but never lost the favorable impressions which this near ap­proach to death made upon her mind.

THE sickness which had left such good impressions on Fanny's mind, gave them both a greater relish than ever for the se­rene pleasures of mental and moral im­provement. Their time passed on balmy wings, because undisturbed by the vanity of dissipation, and distributed in just pro­portions between business, amusement, and rational improvement. Their pleas­ures were sweet and uncloying, because they flowed from a pure source.

LETTER LXV.

DURING her sickness, in which she had the perfect exercise of her reason, Fanny was visited, at her own request, by the clergyman, whose ministry she had, [Page 102] for a few years, attended with pleasure. It may naturally be supposed that in this situation, when the awful period of disso­lution appeared to her to be at hand, a young lady in the bloom of life would wish for the counsel and support of some friend, on whose judgment she could rely. Such was her confidence in his abilities to administer the most salutary advice at this period, that she listened with avidity to the sentiments which dropped from his lips, and from the sequel appears to have found that satisfaction of mind which she most ardently wished. In the course of these conversations some sentiments of importance were dropped, which occa­sioned a correspondence between them after her recovery. Among the many interesting letters, which passed between them, I shall give the two following a place in these memoirs, both on account of the sentiments expressed in them, and of the advantage of female education discoverable in the easy style of Fan­ny's letter. There is evidently a great­er [Page 103] facility in females for letter writing than in our sex.

LETTER LXVI. From a CLERGYMAN to Miss FANNY.

THE calmness of the evening, the solemn silence which at this late hour reigns thro the house, a prevailing incli­nation to gratify and oblige you, all contribute to the design! While the heart of the midnight reveller, the sordid deb­auchee, beats high with impure passion or guilty fears, mine is filled with ardent de­sire: the flame is pure; the passion is hallowed by the excellence of its object!

MY inclination conspires with my pro­fessional duty in exertions for the good of human kind; nor is it possible for me to express how much your happiness is the object of my wishes. I should therefore feel myself culpable, were I to omit any favorable opportunity of contributing to its advancement. Such an one seems [Page 104] now to offer, and I embrace it with pleas­ure, while the heart is softened by recent affliction, and all the avenues to it are laid open by its own solici [...]ude for happiness.

NOT many weeks have passed, since my amiable friend, whom I now address, was, to all appearance, launching into the vast, the unexplored world of spirits. On my last visit, before the disorder formed a cri­sis, I had little doubt but that a few hours would have closed your eyes forever upon all mortal things.—The scene was tender —it was truly affecting! The grief of your friends was of that luxurious nature, which is crowned with hope, and can be understood by perception only.

I WISH not to give pain by recalling to your view, an event from which, thro the goodness of your heavenly Father, you have so happily escaped. Fain would I make a recollection of the whole scene you so lately passed thro both agreeable and beneficial, by exciting the pleasing emo­tions of gratitude to heaven for the satis­faction of mind you experienced in the [Page 105] most threatening moment, and for the health you now enjoy; and by offering a friendly hand to guide you thro the de­vious paths of youth in virtue's peaceful course.

YOUR late experience evinces more than words can do, what is necessary to render us happy in the most trying con­dition to which our feeble nature is liable to be reduced. The books I this day put into your hand, will convince you of the importance of a public avowal of that re­ligion which your own experience has taught you is essential to happiness. Your conspicuous situation in life makes the ex­ample of it more to be desired, as its in­fluence would be more extensively felt.

AS I did not take the advantage of your weakness, and the alarming prospects of approaching dissolution, to precipitate an entrance into the pale of the visible church, when just going to the church triumphant, I shall be justified in earnestly enjoining upon the living, that incorporation with the church, which I could not think nec­essary [Page 106] for the dying. By a public pro­fession of religion we shew to the world our readiness to comply externally with the commands of God; and by a living example of that religion, which is our on­ly consolation when dying, we shew our inward sense of its truth and excellence, and add our testimony to its reality and importance.

TO make an open profession of our be­lief of the Christian religion, of our regard to Christ and his institutions, and our de­termination to obey his precepts, amidst the unreasonable prejudices of many a­gainst the gospel, requires a spirit of for­titude and perseverance: it may draw up­on us the obloquy of such persons. But can we call ourselves the disciples of Christ, or expect the reward of such, if we regard their unkind speeches more than his pos­itive command, of whom it is our greatest reproach to be ashamed?

HOW much does it become us to obey the commands of Christ, by observing those institutions by which we publicly [Page 107] declare our faith in his death and resur­rection; and by which a lively remem­brance of his love, and of our obligations, are perpetuated, and their happy influ­ence felt in the world. If we were only to repair to our devotions, as the disciple of quality did to his Lord and Master, secretly and by night, for fear of the Jews, would not religion, thus lonely and un­friended, soon decay for want of public countenance and encouragement?

BUT it is not necessary for me at this time to adduce many arguments upon the subject, as you will see them fully stated in those books, to which I doubt not you will pay due attention. May you, my dear Fanny, be directed by a spirit of wisdom and prudence, and be guided in the sure path of virtue and piety; the great end of all external forms of relig­ion! The path is strewed with flowers; thorns and briers, indeed, spring up among them, but even these yield de­licious fruit in the end. It leads to the still waters, in whose ceaseless [Page 108] streams flow pleasures ever new and never failing.

THE only apology which this urges for a candid reception, is, that it is dictated by a real desire to promote your happi­ness; is therefore the best testimony of esteem and affection from

LETTER LXVII. Miss FANNY's Answer.

THE gentle spirit of benevolence, which has inspired your breast, respected and dear sir, in favor of a girl who had no right to expect your solicitude, has awak­ened all her gratitude: but with gratitude awakes a chaos of ideas, a train of per­plexing thoughts.

PERHAPS I ought not to have answered your letter, sir, till I had read the books, you put into my hands yesterday. But I [Page 109] could not, I wished not to resist the im­pulse which prompted me to give you some idea of my sentiments on the solemn, and, I believe, important subject of your letter; and yet they are too deeply in­volved in a veil of ignorance and error, for me to arrange them clearly▪—I have been reading your letter again, and again: it swell'd a sweetly painful tear into my eye. Is, then, a public avowal of religion necessary? Mistake me not, my dear sir—I would not, I never would indulge a sentiment less pure than that which I should blush to avow. Your ar­guments are weighty; they are convinc­ing. But a step of this kind is of too high a nature, to be slightly adopted. To your kind injunctions I shall endeavor to pay merited attention. I am, per [...]ps, too fondly attached to the society, the pleasures, the follies of the world. I have never thought a moderate indulg­ence of this fondness incompatible with my other duties; yet perhaps it has pre­vented my reflecting so frequently as I ought on this subject.

[Page 110]THE truth is, tho I respect, tho I sin­cerely venerate the holy institution, yet I never, till now, thought it my indispensa­ble duty to be initiated into its mysteries. I hope, sir, you will not impute my neg­lect wholly to inattention, much less to a disinclination to my duty, when convinc­ed of it. I knew my own weakness: I felt my heart, tho not vicious, too often cold and culpable. I had not the temeri­ty to make a public offering of a luke­warm virtue. I knew myself too well, not to be afraid of professional devotion. I still tremble at the idea of assuming a character, lest I should not have virtue enough to support it.

PERHAPS it has been a mistake in me to consider an attendance on the holy rite as the reward only, and not the assistant of virtue. An admission into the church, I have viewed as more properly the privi­lege and reward of those firm spirits, whose solid and persevering virtue entitles them to a nearer approach, a more filial inter­course with heaven, than the enjoyment [Page 111] of unconfirmed and unhallowed virtue. A short lived enthusiasm has, I believe, led many a youth to the sacred altar, and to a sonorous profession, whose succeeding conduct, tho it could never pollute the spotless image of religion in the eyes of the good and the discerning, has given the infidel, and the thoughtless, a pretext to contemn her precepts. How melan­choly, a fall like this! and how disgrace­ful to the rash youth, who dared venture into a recess too dazzling for his pow­ers! May I never be suffered to offer such unhallowed service at the foot of the altar! and whenever I shall make an of­fering of myself at the holy shrine, may a corresponding example justify the deed; and my daily prayers and praises, sweetly arising before the Almighty, prove the sincerity of my own heart!

FULL well do I remember the awful period to which you allude; and your image, my good sir, forever accompanies the remembrance. To you I owe the mildness of resignation which at length [Page 112] pervad [...]d my anxious bosom. I was a­larmed; I was fearful; I trembled at the dark abyss before me. I did not despair; not for one moment did the horrid phan­tom haunt me; but I could not dispel the doubts which the humbling consciousness of my own insignificance and my multi­plied errors awakened. It was one oth­er than the soothing voice of heaven de­scended piety which breathed thro your lips, and bade me trust with implicit con­fidence the goodness of that being, before whose awful tribunal, I thought a few hours would present me. You then, my dear sir, added another to the many in­ducements I before had, to respect your counsels, to approve and obey your pre­cepts, to be virtuous myself, that I might merit the friendship you have deigned to favor me with. I have availed myself of this friendship, to pour out before you the undisguised effusions of my heart.

I HAVE already said much, but I have still much to say. You must be sensible, that the first walks of my life were in a [Page 113] different track from yours, tho the object was the same. I have no faith in partic­ular forms of worship. I think them no further essential, than as they tend to a­waken and animate devotion. Yet some modes appear more solemn than others; and that to which we are accustomed in the first part of life, commonly appears to us in that light. I doubtless feel some influence of the first impression [...] of habit; and had circumstances conti [...]ued me in the same way till this time, I might have felt a decided preference. But circum­stanced as I am, I prefer the path I am in at present.

WITH regard to the difference of sects, I have little choice. I believe they are all good; and cannot help thinking that the various b [...]eathing incense which arises from innumerable altars, unites in one pure flame, as it ascends the heights of heaven, and glows forever beneath the ap­proving smiles of the Almighty. That only appears the best for me, which in­spires the most solemn and devout senti­ments. [Page 114] But I mean not, by uniting to one, to reject any other.

YOUR friendly interest has superseded the necessity of an apology for this long letter. I have written without reserve. With full confidence have I unfolded to you the recesses of a heart, as yet, too much unformed. May I hope you will deign to correct its errors, to model it by the purity and benevolence of your own! I am just going to the springs at —, for the confirmation of my health. On my return I shall be able to submit my sentiments on Dr. Haller, and the other books, to your inspection.

I CANNOT quit my pen, without again expressing my gratitude for the undeserv­ed attention you pay to my happiness. Make me but worthy of your solicitude; I must then be good and happy. What a blessed task is yours! To recal the wan­derer, to warm with the glow of piety the wretch who freezes with despair; to dis­pel the clouds of ignorance; to remove the veil of error; to disclose to the eye of [Page 115] faith the shining lands of bliss; to raise the earth attracted spirit to sublimer ob­jects and an higher sphere: these are some of the enjoyments which your virtue se­cures to you.

MAY these pleasures be yours, my dear sir; and when painful disease shall be ex­tinguishing your vital flame, may you find some faithful being to illumine the shades of death, to be an angel of consolation to you, as you have been to me, till you go to realize the blessedness you have so well described! May I not venture to hope you will there meet your grateful and obliged

LETTER LXVIII.

LEAVING boarding schools to the management of those who have the care of them, with this remark—The time devot­ed to the acquisition of the graces, should [Page 116] bear due proportion to the time usually allotted females to qualify themselves to move with propriety and dignity in the important sphere, to which the custom of this country generally calls them early in life—I shall now return from female ed­ucation to the consideration of several in­stances of domestic management with re­gard to both sexes, of great importance to the peace of families, the happiness of in­dividuals, and the welfare of society.

AS tranquillity and contentment are requisite to the enjoyment of life, so also to improvements in knowledge and vir­tue; for when the mind is restless and un­easy, it cannot pay that attention which is necessary for the acquisition of knowl­edge; and, by indulging a discontented humor, is disqualified for virtuous exer­cises. The mind will be more or less at ease, according to the impulses of those different passions or principles which agi­tate it. In order to make the progress of learning easy and certain, it is necessary to bring the mind to a balance, and to fix [Page 117] its situation. This disposition, like the order of the heavenly bodies, is generated by the harmonious effect of several pow­ers, acting in different directions. It may be difficult to adjust the exact pro­portion of these different impulses, where the sensibilities are strong, lively, and va­rious; but in general it may be effected, by exciting one passion to counteract an­other, and throwing in one circumstance in such time and order, as to balance an­other. By the constant vigilance of pa­rents, which the domestic state gives them opportunity to exercise, they may almost invariably preserve harmony in the minds of children, by this opposite influence. Children who are dull or stupid, may be easily rendered contented: but those who are formed for enjoyment as well as to charm others, are easily deranged; and, if a coincidence and harmony of the sev­eral principles and causes of action be not secured by proper management, will gen­erally be unhappy.

[Page 118]DESIRES, accustomed to restraint, may be satisfied with little, when success does not attend proper exertions to acquire more; but intemperate desires will not be satisfied with the utmost success of atten­tion, industry, or ambition. Youth, who are accustomed to have every passion grat­ified, will soon learn to fancy every splen­did object they see; and, desirous of pos­sessing whatever they fancy, can never rest contented with any thing. Children and youth become restless and discontented, by having their vanity excited, either by hearing themselves praised, or by the fine­ry with which they are loaded. By these means parents often blow up a flame in the minds of their children, which cannot easily be extinguished, but will consume all their peace in life.

MISANDER was self conceited, because he had been flattered by his parents from a child. This was a perpetual source of mortification to him; for he was often stung by APPREHENDED slights or neg­lects, and suffered a thousand IMAGIN­ARY [Page 119] affronts. He was therefore perpetual­ly discontented and unhappy. Florinda, his only sister, was made vain by the same causes. After loading her with finery, her mother would call her A LITTLE AN­GEL, and flatter her with the idea of being admired by every body, because she was gaily dressed. At the age of fourteen, she had acquired an immoderate passion for dress. Being used from a child to be loaded with ornaments, she grew up with this impression, that dress constituted the principal qualification of a female; and despised all who dressed more plain, or less fashionable than herself.

ROZELLA was more simple in her taste, and appeared best in her own eyes, and in the eyes of every one else, when dressed with a becoming plainness. She thought not the worse of any body on account of their dress, however plain it was; and treated every one with civility, whatever their condition in life might be. Rozella was contented and happy with what she had, because she had learned to check and [Page 120] moderate her desires: she attracted the notice of every one who saw her, because she was modest and unassuming. Florin­da, on the other hand, was neither con­tented nor happy, because her desires were extravagant and ever roving. She disgusted every one who saw her, because she was haughty and trifling; and was al­ways unhappy, because she never thought she had sufficient attention paid her.

MR. Bloomsgrove, observing the beau­tiful landscape in the river, occasioned by the perfect tranquillity of its surface, which, like a mirror, reflected every ob­ject before it, took the opportunity to recommend moderation to his children, as the only means of enjoying the pleas­ures of a serene mind. From the pleasing images then before them, he borrowed many instructive and entertaining ob­servations, which he farther illustrated by several agreeable anecdotes.

"A BOY, fond of a butterfly, pursued it from flower to flower. He thought to surprise it among the leaves of a rose; [Page 121] then to cover it with his hat, as it was feeding on a daisy. He followed it from blossom to blossom, but the nimble crea­ture still eluded his grasp. Observing it now half buried in the cup of a tulip, he rushed forward, and happened to crush it. The poor boy, chagrined at his rashness, seemed to be addressed by the expiring insect in the following words.—"Behold the fruit of thy impetuosity! Know that pleasure is but a painted butterfly, which may be indulged for amusement; but if embraced with too much ardor, will perish in thy grasp."

THE other which I shall mention was the different appearance of Parnabasus, lord lieutenant to the king of Persia, and Agesilaus, king of Lacedemon▪ whom the other had invited to a treaty of peace with him. "The interview was in the open field. The first appeared in all the pomp and luxury of the Persian court. He was dressed in a purple robe embroid­ered with gold and silver: the ground was spread with rich carpets, and cushions [Page 122] were laid down for him to sit upon. A­gesilaus, in a plain dress, sat down on the green grass without any ceremony. The pride of the Persian was confounded; and he appeared little in the eyes of the be­holders compared with the Lacedemon."

THE frequent repetition of such exam­ples had a good effect on Osander, inspir­ing him with a noble independence of spirit; and his sister, who listened to them with pleasure, saw that no part of true excellence consisted in parade and finery, and that, to moderate her desires was the only sure road to contentment.

LETTER LXIX.

MEMORY is one of those useful faculties which deserved notice before, because it may be improved by early cul­ture. But it will not be misplaced here, if we consider that it may be cultivated to much greater advantage in a miss in her teens, or a youth in the higher forms [Page 123] of school learning, than in infancy, when it is difficult to fix the attention. The first act of a child's memory is nothing more than a retention of simple images, which are painted on the mind by sensible objects, without any idea of the relation of those objects, by which the impression was made, to each other. That is, the child forms no judgment about the things so impressed; for it is merely passive in receiving them. But the ideas formed in consequence of such sensations, arise from a capacity of judging of them. The only effectual way, therefore, to increase the retentive faculty, is to enlarge the under­standing. Whatever is committed to the infant memory should be adapted to the child's capacity, and be of useful tenden­cy; for the treasures stored up in the memory, will have their influence in forming the character.

MR. Locke supposed that this faculty cannot be strengthened by exercise. I believe that a contrary opinion, has been generally received. I shall only remark, [Page 124] that there were no children in the school or vicinity, whose memories were equal to the memories of Mr. Bloomsgrove's child­ren. Whether this was owing more to a native strength of this faculty, or to a habit of recollecting and frequently re­peating things committed to memory, I pretend not to say. They were accustom­ed from childhood to commit to memory little pieces, suited to their age and un­derstanding. That these pieces might never tire, but be a constant amusement, Mrs. Bloomsgrove, who was a favorite of the muses, used to compose short pieces, in prose and poetry, calculated to make virtuous impressions. In these she would give a lively description of the transient beauties of the flowers, which bloom with great splendor for a little while, and then fade away; and would take occasion to celebrate the beauty of virtue, which, in­stead of fading like a flower, grows bright­er by time. Sometimes she would give a little history of the humbird, which an­nually came and drew nourishment from [Page 125] the richest flowers, suspending its nest on the slender branch of a weeping willow. As they grew, these pieces were enlarged, and others, of the most chaste and pure sentiment, collected from history, or poet­ry, short sketches of the character of great and good men, dialogues, and select pieces. If the memory was not improv­ed by these means, the heart was. And the world now abounds with such judi­cious collections, that parents have no other trouble than to purchase them.

THE following remarkable instance of strength of memory affords a pleasant story. The fact is related in the life of Frederic the second, king of Prussia.

"WHILE the celebrated Voltaire resid­ed at Potsdam, as the literary friend and companion of the late king of Prussia, an Englishman was introduced to his majes­ty, as one who possessed such an extraor­dinary memory, that he could repeat word by word, a very long discourse, af­ter having heard it once. Frederic put him to an immediate proof of this won­derful [Page 126] retention, and the Englishman jus­tified the character that had been given of him. At this instant Voltaire was to wait upon his majesty, to read him some verses he had just finished. The king, who was desirous of enjoying some amusement from this singular circumstance, caused the Englishman to be concealed in a closet adjoining, and desired him to get by heart all that the poet might read. Voltaire entered, and read the verses with great animation. The king heard them with an air of coldness and indifference, to which the poet had not been accustomed. "Indeed, my dear Voltaire," exclaimed his majesty, "you have taken it into your head, for some time past, to steal verses from others, and to repeat them to me as your own." Voltaire affirmed with great earnestness, that they were his, and that he had finished them but that very morn­ing. The king then sent for the English­man, and desired him to repeat the verses he had shewn him that morning. The Englishman, without hesitation, and with­out [Page 127] the omission of a single syllable, re­peated the whole of what Voltaire had read. The poor poet was astonished and enraged, and declared he must be the Devil himself. The king did not fail to enjoy his anger and agitation for some time; but at last he confessed the whole trick, and the scene was concluded by his making a handsome present to the Englishman for the pleasure he had af­forded them."

LETTER LXX.

AMONG all the monstrous pro­ductions of nature, there can scarcely be found a greater, than the heart of a pa­rent, which makes an idol of one child, while it neglects another. There may be a great difference in the qualities of child­ren, which is apt to induce a degree of partiality. But this is as imprudent, as it is wrong and unnatural; for where the others discover a decided partiality, they [Page 128] cannot feel either filial piety or fraternal affection.

A MORE affecting instance of the fatal effects of it cannot be found, than in the history of Joseph. The whole story is interesting, and contains a variety of inci­dents, which furnish many important les­sons of instruction. Besides the mischiefs of parental partiality, it displays the fatal effects of envy, jealousy, and discord a­mong brethren; the blessings and honors with which virtue is rewarded; the beau­ties of a forgiving spirit; the joys which flow from fraternal love, and filial piety. But I shall only relate that part of it which has reference to the present subject.

WE are told that "Jacob loved Joseph more than all his children;" and whence this extraordinary partiality? The only reason assigned for it, is, that "he was the son of his old age." As good a reason as can generally be assigned for the partiality of parents! It is a blind guide, and sel­dom chooses its objects from the discern­ment of peculiar merit. The favorite son [Page 129] is distinguished by some peculiar marks of affection, which render him the object of jea [...]ousy, envy, and hatred to the rest. "His father made him a coat of many colors." Long had a spark of envy lurked in their breasts, and this decided prefer­ence kindled it into a flame. "And when his brethren saw that their father loved him more than the rest, they hated him, and could not speak peaceably unto him." Of all the feuds and animosities which disturb the peace of the world, those of a domestic kind are the bitterest and most to be dreaded. They should therefore be studiously avoided. The circumstance which fixed this hatred, and determined them to strike the deadly blow, which they had so much reason to regret after­wards, was his relating to them a dream; which was, that "they were binding sheaves in the field, and that his sheaf stood upright, while theirs made obeisance to his." He probably related it in the simplicity of his heart. But their minds, awake to jealousy, construed it into an insult. "And his brethren said unto [Page 130] him, shalt thou indeed reign over us?" Another dream of a like tenor, in which "he saw the sun, moon, and eleven stars make obeisance to him," gave umbrage even to the fond mother; and wrought up fraternal hatred to a perfect rage.

THE latent purpose only waits a favor­able opportunity to break forth into a dreadful storm. When domestic jars have divided the affections of the family, and they lie in wait to injure each other, an opportunity is seldom long wanting to the vigilant eye of malice and ill will. This was truly the case with the sons of Jacob. The unsuspecting father sends the favor­ite son, but envied brother, to inquire af­ter the welfare of his brethren, who were feeding the flocks in a distant field. As they were ripe for vengeance, little else was necessary, than to form a plan for the execution of it. "Behold, say they, the dreamer cometh," and they conspired a­gainst him to slay him. When the end is determined upon, malice and envy are ingenious at inventing means for perpe­trating [Page 131] the vilest actions, and throwing a veil over them. So dangerous is the in­dulgence of these passions!

"COME now, and let us slay him, say they, and cast him into a pit; and we will say some evil beast hath devoured him; and we shall see what will become of his dreams." One of his brethren, a little more humane than the rest, proposed to commute the revenge from death, to slav­ery in Egypt. They accordingly sold him to a company of traders who were going thither, where he was sold as a slave. Horrid as the alternative was, it seemed to be some alleviation of the crime.

THUS ended their malice and envy a­gainst a brother, hated and despised, not for any fault of his own, but for the ill judged partiality of a doating parent. But the heart of the aged parent is soon to bleed thro the effects of its own im­prudence. The party coloured coat is to be brought before him, all drenched in blood. By this stratagem, they attempt [Page 132] to cover the base, the cruel deed. It suc­ceeds. The father recognises the coat, all stained as it was. Yes; "it is my son's coat: an evil beast hath devoured him: Joseph is without doubt rent in pieces." The full tide of parental affec­tion rises on the occasion. He refused to be comforted, and said—"I will go down to the grave, unto my son, mourning."

IT would be entertaining and delight­ful to follow the young captive down in­to Egypt, to note the various fortune of the exiled youth, and mark the several steps by which he rose from his depressed condition to the chief seat of government there; his great wisdom in becoming the savior of his country; and to review all the tender scenes of meeting his brethren, and of rejoicing the heart of his aged pa­rent, who had long mourned for him as dead. But these belong not to our pres­ent design.

THE story of Joseph was so familiar to Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove, that they considered it as a serious warning to [Page 133] themselves and all parents to guard against the like conduct. They observed that those parents who had a stronger affection to one child than another, were blind to the faults of the favorite, which often proved its ruin. They also observed that such partiality was often followed with in­gratitude from the favorite child. Solic­itous to raise him above the rest, said Mr. Bloomsgrove to the father of Misander, they think no labor or expense too much: they deny themselves every pleasure, ex­cept what they enjoy in anticipating the figure which their darling child will make in the world. They are commonly much too sanguine in their expectations. But suppose them quite answered, and that they see him rise superior to their hopes, yet how often does it happen that the consequence of such partial regard, in­stead of exciting sentiments of gratitude and respect, is, that he feels himself supe­rior to his original, and blushes to ac­knowledge his parents and benefactors, who receive no other return for all their [Page 134] exertions than being shunned in public and despised in private! This may be a just punishment upon the parent for an unjust partiality, but does not extenuate the base ingratitude of the child.

LETTER LXXI.

IN a family like Mr. Bloomsgrove's, where no enviable preeminence of one raises the hatred of the rest, filial rever­ence may always be expected. The dig­nified familiarity which these parents ob­served towards the children and family, preserved the most perfect bond of union; and while it prevented a servile fear, it created veneration and respect.

THO the authority of parents is, in its nature, absolute, yet it is by no means in­consistent with familiarity, as their child­ren advance in age. This indeed is the most effectual way to secure their rever­ence and obedience, because it engages their esteem and confidence. If family [Page 135] discipline is preserved by coertion only, there can be no harmony between the heads and the members, and consequent­ly very little domestic enjoyment. Child­ren may by this means be rendered abject and servile, but they will feel no respect or veneration.

MANY parents seem to have no other ideas of family government, than that which consists in keeping their children at an awful distance, being silent and reserv­ed before them, never suffering any pleas­antry to pass between them, and seldom speaking to them but in a commanding tone of voice. In this case they lose the best part of authority, that over the heart. The parent cannot discover the genius of the child, for it dares not exert itself. Nor can he ever know the true character of the child, for he is driven to assume a mask in the presence of the parent. There can be no pleasure in each others company. The house is a prison to the child, and the parent is the keeper. They must either sit silent at home, or steal [Page 136] away to seek enjoyment abroad; and they never feel so happy, as when out of the parent's sight. This must be a most un­happy condition for persons connected by the closest ties of nature and society.

ON the other hand, what can be a more pleasing sight than that of a parent, with condescending greatness, mixing in the social pleasures, and innocent mirth of his little flock? The young mind feels the obligation; and children will be cautious of doing any thing to displease a parent who will step out of himself, without los­ing sight of his character, so far as to be­come their intimate friend, and contribute to their pleasures, at least appear interest­ed in their childish pursuits. As they advance towards maturity, more senti­mental conversation, and more elevated pleasures, may occupy the place of the puerile. The heart is open to receive any thing from so good a parent. Coun­sel and admonition have the full force of authority; instruction is easily conveyed to the heart warmed with filial affection [Page 137] and respect. They need not rove abroad for agreeable and rational society: of this they experience the sweetest enjoy­joyment within their own domestic circle.

OSANDER, during his tutelage, was un­der entire government, but felt no awk­wardness in his father's presence. He could address him without any reserve, but never without respect; and as he ad­vanced towards manhood, he seemed to be on terms of familiarity with his father, and felt all the pleasures of friendship, but never lost the reverence of a son. As the parent stooped to meet the child, the child naturally rose to meet the parent. By conversing freely with him, he raised the youthful mind to a manly habit of thinking and acting. Often would he advise with his son about his affairs; and, whenever he could consistently, he fol­lowed the plan he struck out. By this mode of treatment, his son acquired some knowledge of his father's circumstances, and of a proper method of doing business. He secured the friendship and confidence [Page 138] of his son, and erected the most effectual barrier against fraud, dissimulation, and the vices to which young people are li­able. Feeling the reverence of a son unit­ed to the ties of familiar friend and com­panion, he was holden by a three fold cord, from those dangerous combinations in vice, which are sometimes sanctioned by the sacred name of friendship; and be­sides this security, he was constantly im­proving from his father's experience and observations.

I CANNOT conclude these observations, without noticing the advantage which might be derived from a similar practice in those to whom the care and instruction of children are committed. You never can forget the ridiculous figure which young Mr. —, one of the officers of in­struction at —, made even in the eyes of all the pupils, by assuming an air of wisdom and authority which did not be­come his age. See the vain youth, how he swells! and stoutly exerts his borrowed power! His instruction and government [Page 139] are carried on, not by lenient arts, but by magisterial dictation. To be polite, or even civil, to those young gentlemen who fell within the reach of his official power, he thought would be to let down his tu­torical dignity.

MR. —, the preceptor at Tusculum, treated his pupils in a very different man­ner. He conversed freely with them, but with a dignity of manner that inspir­ed awe, while it seemed to admit them to the greatest familiarity. His government was steady and firm, but not severe. There were few transgressions, because there were few rules, and no unnecessary restraints. He instructed more by com­municating to them than by dry lessons. He encouraged their asking him quest­ions, by the kind and communicative manner in which he answered them. This mode of treatment greatly facilitated their improvement, and gave him an op­portunity of discovering how far they un­derstood the subject they were upon. A dry lesson, placed before a boy, may be ac­quired, [Page 140] without his understanding any thing of the subject. But knowledge ac­quired in the other way, will be clear and durable, and what is so acquired will be his own.

HE was not only a man of science and literature, but of polite accomplishments. He treated his pupils as rational crea­tures, and as young gentlemen, who were to borrow their manners, in some degree, from himself. This endeared him to his pupils, and gave him an entire sway in their affections; and it recommended him to the notice and attention of all his em­ployers. How far preferable such a teacher to one of unformed manners, who has read books, but knows not how to read men!

LETTER LXXII.

INGRATITUDE and disrespect to parents is unnatural, said Mr. Blooms­grove to a neighbor who was complaining [Page 141] of the disobedience of his son, as they were one morning walking thro a grove; it must therefore be owing generally to the mismanagement of parents. Hero­dotus, continued he, in his account of the customs and manners of the Persians, tells us that "They looked upon parri­cide as a thing impossible; and that, when any thing happened that looked like it, the reputed son was considered as suppo­sititious, and probably owing his birth to adultery." This sentiment shewed in what light they viewed undutifulness in general: and it is said, that, among the Chinese, disodedience to parents is looked upon in such a light, even at this day, that, "If a son should so far forget him­self, as to lift up an hostile hand against his father, not only himself, but his wife and children, would be put to death; his servants and dependents would share the same fate, the house where he lived would be razed, and the ground sowed with salt, as supposing there must be the most hope­less depravity of manners in a communi­ty [Page 142] to which such a monster belonged." The gentleman acknowledged the justness of the sentiment, and left him with a sigh.

IN the evening, happening to meet in the same shady grove, the gentleman re­sumed the subject, and said—Ingratitude and disobedience to parents is a conduct to be ranked among the basest crimes. It is increased and aggravated by the count­less obligations conferred on children by parental care and tenderness. What anxious solicitude and daily fatigue attend the nurture of helpless infancy! What unwearied application is requisite in forming the minds and guarding the mor­als of youth! What anxieties often rend the parents' breast for the future welfare of their offspring! How often do they deny themselves the conveniencies of life, that their children may have the superflu­ities? "These are obligations, replied Mr. Bloomsgrove, which never can be cancelled."

[Page 143]AND yet, continues the other, after all this, how often are they treated with dis­respect and ingratitude, and perhaps de­spised for those very infirmities which pa­rental assiduity has brought upon them! "This surely, rejoined Mr. Bloomsgrove, is a height of impiety, that admits of nei­ther addition nor palliation: and 'he who fills his father's soul with bitterness, and drowns his mother's eyes in tears, may justly fear a son that will revenge their wrongs.' Such baseness may ex­pect to experience, in turn, those sharp pangs which itself has occasioned."

NOTWITHSTANDING the long tried friendship of parents, the continual recep­tion of benefits, which ought to engage ev­ery expression of duty and affection, it is an observation of undoubted truth, the gen­tleman replied, that there are many more undutiful children than there are unkind parents. "Our all wise Creator, says Mr. Bloomsgrove, has so ordered it, for the security and preservation of the hu­man kind, that there should be very few [Page 144] of the latter; for if parental care and ten­derness were generally rewarded with in­gratitude, there would not be that atten­tion paid to children which is necessary to rear them up. The whole body of the Athenian laws, in the early state of that people, was comprised in this short sen­tence—"Honor your parents; worship the Gods; hurt not animals." And by one of the laws of Solon, that person was accounted infamous, who treated his pa­rent with disrespect, or neglected that care of him which his circumstances required. That great legislator never would estab­lish any law against parricides, saying— "The Gods forbid that such a monster should ever come into our common­wealth." And it is certain that upwards of two centuries elapsed, from the first founding of Rome, before the name of parricide was known among them.

IN this respect the sentiments of Pa­gans, Jews, and Christians, harmonize; and the laws of revelation perfectly con­cur with the language of nature. "Hon­or [Page 145] thy father and thy mother, was the first command, with a promise" of temporal good. And the Mosaic law bears the most solemn testimony against disrespect to parents—"Cursed be he who setteth light by his father or his mother, and all the people shall say Amen." The crime is so unnatural, that all men will approve the sentence.

HE then adduced several instances of filial piety worthy the imitation of all of every age, sex, and condition—That of Eneas, who is so justly celebrated in an­cient history for saving his aged father from the flames of Troy, whom he rescued on his back thro raging flames, armed en­emies, and innumerable dangers: that of Joseph, who, when advanced to the chief seat of government in Egypt, respectfully bowed himself to his father, and made his aged heart leap for joy, by his expression of filial respect and duty. Solomon did not lose the respect of a child in the au­thority of a king. He arose from the throne and bowed himself in a respectful [Page 146] manner to his mother. Excellent exam­ples indeed, said the gentleman! It was our early care, continued Mr. Blooms­grove, to habituate our children to treat us with respect and dutifulness; and that which they did in childhood from habit, they now do from principle. They are constantly endeavoring to repay, by acts of filial piety, the debt of gratitude due to parental care and labor. The gentleman dropt a tear and bid him a good night.

CONTRASTED to the character of Mr. Bloomsgrove's children, and the effect it had on their friends, was that of the un­happy Misander. He was the son of de­cent, worthy people, in good circum­stances, but too easy and indulgent to­wards him. Misander did not want abil­ities, but they had been much neglected. While young, and under the management of his mother, he was gratified in every thing he asked for, and never crossed in any respect; and as he increased in years, his passions grew without check or control. So blind was the eye of the indulgent pa­rents, [Page 147] that his very faults were converted into perfections: His pertness, they con­strued into wit; his pride, into noble­ness of spirit; and his artfulness, into good sense. It was thought time enough to improve his mind and correct his man­ners, when riper years had established his constitution. The teachers to whom he had been committed for instruction, were desired not to correct him, nor to be strict in requiring of him the exercises that were exacted of other children; and he must often be excused from school on one pretence and another. This farce was carried on, till his passions had gathered too much strength to be resisted. He had associated himself with companions suitable to his taste, and such as prevented him from being reclaimed. He had long since usurped that authority over his pa­rents, which they should have exercised over him: His will was law; and as he advanced towards manhood, his desires gradually became demands: His passions led him blindfold to every gratification. [Page 148] At an early period of life, he was lost in a hopeless depravity of manners. The counsel and authority of his parents, he treated with contempt. From an un­natural indifference to them, he proceed­ed to despise them.

OVERWHELMED with grief and anxi­ety, they follow him with tears and intreaties: But in vain do they now at­tempt his reformation: he laughs at their impotent efforts; and plunges himself tho deeper into expensive vices, and disso­luteness of manners. He never stopped in his fatal career, till he had reduced himself to beggary, and broken the hearts of his parents. His vices at length un­dermined his constitution—a threatening disorder seized him—Emaciated by sick­ness and worn out with pain, he gave up the ghost, amidst the horrors of an awak­ened conscience, and the tremendous ap­prehensions of his future condition; and, what rendered the scene most distressful, was, that reflecting upon the neglect and indulgence of his parents, as the cause of [Page 149] all his miseries, he cursed them with his dying breath.

SO fatal to virtue and the filial piety of children, are an indiscriminate gratifica­tion of every childish wish, and a blind partiality to all their foibles. May you, my dear sir, never taste the bitterness of disobedient children, but be the happy occasion of adding to society the inestim­able blessing of virtuous sons and amiable daughters; who, enjoying the fruits of parental care and attention, will rise up and call you blessed. This will be the most valuable legacy you can bequeath the world, and will reflect the highest honor upon yourself, while it will lay the surest foundation for their happiness.

LETTER LXXIII.

THE transition from filial to frater­nal affection, is natural and easy. That parent who teaches his children to look up with affection and respect to himself, [Page 150] will not fail to cherish in them a recip­rocal affection towards each other: and, indeed, in a family consisting of several children, there is a degree of fraternal re­spect due from the youngest to the eldest; of protection from the eldest to the youngest; of delicacy, even in childhood, between the different sexes, and of affec­tion between them all, which require cul­tivation, and afford the attentive parent an opportunity to inculcate many useful lessons.

THE following extract of a letter which I have just received from a judicious cor­respondent, I think deserving of particu­lar notice. "The rights of promogeni­ture, so much esteemed among the Jews, I believe, are founded in nature, and have their uses in every family. Where the eldest son or daughter is honored and preferred by parents, a family is never without government in the absence of pa­rents from home; and when these parents are removed by death, there is a founda­tion laid in the habits of the younger [Page 151] children for a continuance of subordina­tion in a family—a circumstance always essential to harmony and happiness!"

ON reading this, an instance immedi­ately occurred to me, of the usefulness of subordination among children. There was a family, consisting of several sons and daughters, who were made orphans, while they were young. The oldest, a daughter of an amiable disposition, un­dertook to preserve the family together by her own management, which she ef­fected greatly to her own credit, and to the advantage of the rest. The sons were trained to business, and the daugh­ters were well educated in the habits of industry and the embellishments of taste. They lived together in great harmony and affection, until she had an advanta­geous offer in marriage, when they were all nearly grown to mature age, which she accepted, and was happily settled with a worthy companion, who is now in flour­ishing circumstances. She engaged the esteem of all her acquaintance, and is [Page 152] now justly numbered among the most amiable of her sex in domestic life.

BY the eldest child being honored and preferred, my friend could mean no more than that respect which is due to a priori­ty in age; and this is just and reasonable, for it is founded in nature, and is neces­sary for society. Let a person be recom­mended to you as excelling in affection to his brothers and sisters, as remarkable for his attention to his mother, and for tenderness and attachment to his family, your heart will instantly bear testimony in his favor; you will esteem and honor him.

THE wise author of nature hath im­planted in our breasts those tender sym­pathies, which, while they are useful to so­ciety, are very pleasing to ourselves: and this affection strengthens in proportion to the nearness of the relation, or the habits of living together. Therefore it may naturally be expected, from the general idea of man as a social creature, and from that of a family, as the first social connex­ion, [Page 153] that affection and friendship should prevail here in perfection. Here we are to look for the most perfect amity, a har­mony that stands opposed not only to prejudice and ill will, but to indifference and reserve.

CONTEMPLATE a whole family, emi­nent for their union and affection to each other: See the brothers not only dutiful to their parents, but kind and attentive to their sisters; affectionate and obliging in their conduct towards each other—You cannot help admiring them; you are sure there is virtue and goodness among them; you think, you speak of them with pleas­ure; and certainly you would prefer a connexion in business with such, to those of an opposite cast.

DOCTOR Percival, in one of his enter­tertaining pieces, gives us the following agreeable mirror. "I will amuse you with a little experiment, said Sophron, one evening, to Lucia, Emelia, Alexis, and Jacobus; and rising from the table, he took the candles, and held them about [Page 154] half an inch asunder, opposite to a medall­ion of Dr. Franklin, and about two yards distant from it. The motto round the figure, UNHURT AMIDST THE WAR OF ELEMENTS, was just distinctly visible. When the degree of light had been suf­ficiently observed, he united the flames of the candles together; and the whole fig­ure, with the inscription, became instantly illuminated in a much stronger manner than before.

"THEY were all pleased and struck with the effect; and they desired Euphronius, who now entered the parlour, to explain the cause of it. He commended their entertainment, and informed them that a greater degree of heat is produced by the junction of the two flames, and conse­quently a further attenuation and more copious emission of the particles, of which light consists: But, my dear children, continued he, attend to the lesson of vir­tue as well as of science. Nature has implanted in your hearts, benevolence, friendship, gratitude, humanity, and gen­erosity; [Page 155] and these social affections are separate shining lights in the world. But they burn with peculiar warmth and lus­tre, when more concentrated in the kind­red charities of brother, sister, child, and parent; and harmony, peace, sympathy in joy and grief, mutual good offices, for­giveness, and forbearance, are the bright emanations of domestic love. Oh! may the radiance of such virtues long illumin­ate this happy household!"

FOR the exercise of these virtues, there will be room in the best regulated fami­lies. Many little transactions will be daily taking place, which, if viewed with a jealous eye, will breed disgust and ma­levolence: But fraternal love and ten­derness will, if not wholly annihilate those evils, in a great measure, correct them. It will dispose each to conde­scend to the other, and to make the most candid allowances for each others foibles. It will shew itself in attempts to reclaim a dissolute and vicious brother, and the tear of sympathy will wash away the stain of guilt.

[Page 156]UNITED in nature, or associated by compact, and allied by interest, every member of a family should cordia [...] en­deavor to promote the common good. Children should be taught from their in­fancy, not only to banish all enmity from among themselves, but to avoid that neu­trality and indifference which destroys cordiality, and introduces a distance and reserve fatal to domestic felicity.

THE cultivation of domestic affection and friendship, depends much on the fe­male head of the house. Not only is she more with the family, and consequently has more opportunities to reconcile the little jarring interests which arise, but her native tenderness qualifies her better for it. We have already seen Mrs. Blooms­grove interposing, with judgment and success, in settling the differences which sometimes arise among children of the best dispositions; and she cherished the most endearing cordiality between her children, and the whole family. They partook in each others griefs, and shared [Page 157] each others joys. A sigh does not pass unnoticed, nor does a tear fall unpitied. In Osander you behold a son respectful to his mother, kind and attentive to his sister, ever mindful of her wishes, her pro­tector, companion, and friend.

THIS is one of the most pleasing traits in a young gentleman's character, and will never fail to recommend him to the female sex, and secure him the esteem of his own. They will naturally conclude, that he, who, from motives of brotherly affection, devotes his attention to a sister, on account of the delicacy of her situa­tion, is possessed of a good disposition. They will have little doubt that a dutiful son, and a complaisant brother, will make an attentive husband. A complaisant brother never need tear neglects on a sis­ter's part. I will pledge myself for the female world, that they will never be in­sensible to such attentions, nor ever cease to return them with tenderness and every office of sisterly affection. Should such a brother, in any instance, experience the [Page 158] neglect of a sister, he would be much less affected by it, than she would be by his: he is more independent, and has less need of attentions. He may act as he pleases; she must always do what is proper. He can defend himself; she must be kindly protected. He may say what he knows; she must say what is agreeable. A young gentleman may be uncouth in his man­ners; if he has understanding, it in a great measure compensates the want of the graces: but a young lady without taste cannot by any means balance the deficiency. A brother's politeness to a sister consists in offering her every service in his power; a sister's, in receiving his attentions gracefully, and returning them by gentle and obliging manners.

ROZELLA is all goodness to her brother. The sweet sympathy which heaves her gentle breast, when he is ill; the lenient hand and assiduous care with which she renders a thousand kind offices, shew the ardor of a sisterly affection, and how much she prizes a brother's civilities. I know a [Page 159] young gentleman who is remarkable for his attention to the ladies. They are not displeased at his gallantry; but his want of politeness to an amiable sister often draws upon him their severe remarks. His civil­ities would be much more pleasing to the ladies in general, if his sister shared in them. Such neglects are the more inex­cusable, because they wound a sister very sensibly, and because his attentions might be rendered to her without pain or ex­pense on his part. It is in the power of brothers to alleviate their condition, and to contribute much to their convenience, with very little trouble; and where there is any sincerity of affection, those acts of friendship will not be neglected.

ACCUSTOMED from their childhood to be together, on the most friendly terms, to go hand in hand to amusements, to visits, and to public worship, and always to speak kindly to each other, Osander and Rozella lived together in youth on the happiest terms. A const [...] inter­course of kind offices and friendly society, [Page 160] prove to their parents, how much the har­mony of domestic society may be promot­ed by an early cultivation of the ties of nature, and how much they may be strengthened by habit. Growing to­gether like a cluster of cherries from the same bough, and in continual contact, it will not be difficult to confirm the union nature hath created. I have named only the brother and sister in the light of do­mestic harmony; but to a stranger, the nephew and Fanny appear to hold the same relation to the family as they do. As each had acquired a spirit of benevolence by always breathing in its atmosphere, so they all participated in the common stock of domestic affection and tranquillity.

I WILL give an instance of the strength of fraternal affection in the following af­fecting story.

"IN the year 1585, the Portuguese Caracks sailed from Lisbon to Goa, a very rich and flourishing colony of that nation in the East Indies. On board of one of those vessels, there were no less than twelve hundred souls. The beginning of [Page 161] their voyage was prosperous, but not ma­ny days after, thro the perverseness of the pilot, the ship struck on a rock, and in­stant death began to stare them in the face. In this distress, the captain order­ed the pinnace to be launched, into which having tossed a small quantity of biscuit, and some boxes of marmalade, he jumped in himself with nineteen others, who, with their swords, prevented the coming of any more, lest the boat should sink. Thus scantily equipped, they put off into the great Indian ocean, without compass to steer by, or any fresh water, but what might happen to fall from the heavens, whose mercy alone could deliver them. At the end of five days, the captain died with sickness, and they were oblig­ed, to prevent confusion, to elect one of their company to command them. This person proposed to them to draw lots, and cast every fourth man overboard, their small stock of provision being now so far spent, as not to be able, at very short allowance, to sustain life above three days [Page 162] longer. To this they agreed; so that there were four to die out of their unhap­py number, the captain, a friar, and a car­penter being exempted by general consent.

"THE lots being cast, three of the first submitted to their fate, after they had confessed and received absolution. The fourth victim was a Portuguese gentle­man, who had a younger brother in the boat; who, seeing him about to be thrown overboard, most tende [...] embraced him, and with tears besought him to let him die in his room; enforcing his arguments by telling him, "that he was a married man, and had a wife and children at Goa, besides the care of three sisters, who abso­lutely depended upon him for support; whereas himself was single, and his life of no great importance." He conjured him therefore to suffer him to supply his place; assuring him that he had rather die for him, than live without him. The elder brother, astonished, and melting with his generosity, replied, "that since the di­vine providence had appointed him to [Page 163] suffer, it would be wicked and unjust to permit any other to die for him, but es­pecially a brother to whom he was so in­finitely obliged." The younger, how­ever, persisting in his refusal, would take no denial; but throwing himself on his knees, held his brother so fast, that the company could not disengage him.

"THUS they disputed awhile, the elder bidding him be a father to his children, and recommending his wife and sisters to his protection; but all he could say could not make the younger desist▪ This was a scene of tenderness that must fill every human breast with pity. At last the constancy of the elder brother yielded to the piety of the other, and suffered the gallant youth to supply his stead; who being cast into the sea, and a good swimmer, soon got to the stern of the pin­nace, and laid hold of the rudder with his right hand. This being perceived by one of the sailors, he cut off the hand with his sword; then dropping into the sea, he presently regained his hold with his left [Page 164] hand, which received the same fate by a second blow. Thus dismembered of both hands, he made a shift, notwithstanding, to keep himself above water with his feet and two stumps, which he held bleeding upwards. This moving spectacle so stung the pity of the whole company, that they cried out, "he is but one man; let us endeavor to save him!" Accordingly, he was taken into the boat, where he had his hands bound up as well as the place and circumstances would admit. They then continued rowing all night; and the next morning, when the sun arose (as if heaven would reward the gallantry and piety of this young man) they descried land; which proved to be the mountains of Mozambique, in Africa, not far from a Portuguese colony. Thither they all safe arrived, where they remained till the next ship from Lisbon passed by, and carried them to Goa. At that city, a writer of credit assures us he himself saw them land, supped with the two brothers [Page 165] that very night, and had the story from their own mouths."

CONTRAST the characters of a Cain and a Joseph, and you find fraternal af­fection recommended at every point. The former, for his fraternal hatred, driv­en from society, stigmatized by the hand of God, made an outcast and a vagabond, hated and despised by all his fellow crea­tures. The latter you behold melting with fraternal love, forgiving every inju­ry, providing for his father's house, weep­ing over the necks of his brethren who once sought his destruction, bowing with reverence to an ancient and venerable pa­rent. While we feel emulous of the character of Joseph, how do we shrink with horror from the fratricide of Cain!

SO many and great are the advantages of union and affection among brothers and sisters, that it would not be an easy task to specify them. "The sweet peace and satisfaction, diffused thro families; the ease and alacrity with which all offices are discharged, when every member is de­sirous [Page 166] to be first in his services; the sur­prising velocity with which the minds of youth develop, and spring into utility and beauty, by reciprocal information and assistance; and the delightful multi­plication of joy, by being reflected from every countenance and every heart!" These are affecting objects of contempla­tion, and yet they express but a part of the advantages of brotherly and sisterly affection, and domestic union.

LETTER LXXIV.

I SHALL not, perhaps, find a more convenient place to notice the manner in which Mr. Bloomsgrove's servants were treated, than the present. On the right management of this class of the family, and on the conduct of children towards them, depend a large share of domestic tranquillity and enjoyment. Of all the troubles and difficulties which infest do­mestic life, there is scarce one which is so [Page 167] fruitful a source of complaint, as the bad­ness of servants; and it must be granted that there is much room for it. I will hazard a conjecture, that, if the truth was known, there is nothing of which servants so much complain, as the want of kind­ness and gentle usage in masters and mis­tresses.^*

THAT servants should be subject to government, is readily granted; but this ought to be exercised agreeable to the rights of human nature, and with a kind allowance for its imperfections; and it should be so exercised, as to secure their esteem and affection as well as submission. How can it be expected that a servant will be faithful to his master, while he is constantly suffering injury from the abuse of his authority? Or how can good natured and cheerful services be looked for from a servant, who is always harrass­ed [Page 168] and irritated by the peevishness of his mistress?

IN a country, where the division of property approaches so near an equality as in the United States, particularly in New England, and where the government is founded in equality, servitude will be lighter than in those countries, where cus­tom has established a greater and more decided distinction. It must therefore be conducted on different principles. Those who attempt to influence their ser­vants, of whatever description, by the ex­ercise of benevolence and mildness, will find it much more effectual, than the ex­ertion of mere authority. They will be more faithful, because obedience will be a pleasure; and more useful, because the service will be more cheerful. Ideas of superiority, and of the power we possess of commanding, may prevent our conde­scending to court the esteem and affection of a servant; but a contrary conduct ren­ders them hostile to us.^* They may obey [Page 169] for awhile from fear or necessity, but will take the earliest opportunity to retaliate, and will never do any thing more than the force of authority compels them to do.

MRS. —, a lady of respectable char­acter, who now lives in —, has many excellent qualities, is famed for piety, and it is confidently said she has but one fault, and that is, her conduct towards her ser­vants. This indeed is of such magnitude, as to absorb many good qualities, and to cast a shade over the most brilliant char­acter. It is said, she often entertains her friends with tedious tales of the vileness and ill behavior of her servants. She has charity for almost every one else, but none for them. She often laments, as a good woman, the weakness and infirmity of human nature; but appears to expect from her servants a conduct, which we [Page 170] are to look for only from beings who have none of those imperfections. It is re­ported that some of her servants have ventured to say, that, altho she is called a good woman, yet she is severe and un­kind towards them; that she is never sat­isfied with what they do, even when they do their utmost to please her; and I am inclined to believe that the report is not without foundation, for she often changes them. Her husband makes no preten­sions to religion. He is a man of quick and violent passions, and is governed in all his conduct by present feelings. But altho he is passionate, capricious, and sometimes very severe, yet he does at times treat them with kindness, and is willing to allow that they have some merit.

IN order to make servants faithful, and render them submissive to order and gov­ernment, we must secure their esteem and affection; then every thing will go on easy and agreeable. But, if we under­take to procure submission by the force [Page 171] of authority only, the task will be ardu­ous, and our eye must be perpetually over them; we must issue our orders in a pe­remptory tone, and, after all, must fre­quently endure the painful jealousy of undutifulness, and want of fidelity. On the contrary, if, by our equity and gen­tleness towards servants, we secure their affection, we have the best possible influ­ence over them. They will not only be subservient to our pleasure, but be so with cheerfulness. Feeling interested in our persons, they will extend the same affec­tion to all our affairs, and every thing that concerns us; and seeing us have some regard to their ease and conveni­ence, they will aim as much as possible to please us. While this attachment se­cures their fidelity, it relieves us of many anxieties and exertions, which would oth­erwise be unavoidable.

MR. Bloomsgrove had the most entire government over his household. But his servants were more afraid of displeasing him, than of being punished. They o­bey, [Page 172] because they love him. They feel interested in all his interests, and troubled in all his troubles. They feel themselves rich, because they think he is so; and they consider all his misfortunes as befalling themselves. He reigned securely in their affection, and possessed an authority over them, on all occasions cordially acknowl­edged, without seeming to be asserted.

MRS. Bloomsgrove was the idol of her servants, and every thing depends on the mistress of a family with respect to them. They were loud in her praises; for she always treated them with great humanity and tenderness. She considered them as fellow creatures, placed indeed in a lower station, but not the less entitled to kind and gentle usage. She ever considered it a dictate of humanity, to render a state of servitude and dependence as light and easy as possible. She viewed them as friends of humbler rank. She never des­cended to a familiarity which lessened her in their esteem; and if, at any time, they presumed too far upon her goodness, she [Page 173] knew how to preserve her dignity. She was careful to see them well instructed in their duty to God, and to one another, as well as to do the office of menial do­mestics. In order to this, proper books were provided and kept for them; for they were all taught to read who fell with­in the reach of her care. Nothing could be a finer stroke of domestic policy, sepa­rate from religious considerations. By thus appearing to have an interest in their happiness, it rendered her very dear to them, and made them hold her in high veneration.

THE character and condition of servants requires some degree of distance and re­serve on our part, of humility and rever­ence on theirs: but all this may consist with a degree of familiarity, especially of equity and kindness, to which they have the fairest claim, as well from the service rendered, as from the equality of nature; and if we consider that we have all one master, to whom we are amenable for all our conduct towards each other, in our [Page 174] various relations, we shall find sufficient reason to induce us to a just and equitable conduct towards that part of our own spe­cies, whose misfortune it is to be subject to the will of others.

THE lowest domestic is entitled not on­ly to civility, but to benevolent and kind usage from every member of the family. In some families you see them treated in a taunting, overbearing manner, by child­ren, and the younger parts of the family, who are supported in such ungenerous conduct by their parents; but nothing can be more cruel and impolitic. It is cruel, because it is a violation of the laws of nature and humanity. It is impolitic, because it sours their mind against those whom they serve, and renders them less desirous to please, and more averse to the service.

MRS. Bloomsgrove taught her children from infancy, to speak kindly to the ser­vants, and to ask, not command, them to do any service they wish from them. "They are not your servants, my dear," [Page 175] said she to Osander, who was refused by a servant to whom he had spoken in a domineering tone. Caspina, a maid ser­vant, never refuses any service to Rozel­la; for she asks in so kind and gentle a manner, that she who does the service seems to be the most obliged. Rozella never forgets her, when she has any cake or fruit, but always imparts a share to Caspina. The present is of little worth, but the notice and attention are of ines­timable value. Her mamma affords her a constant example of tenderness and atten­tion to servants. She lends them every seasonable aid, and never trusts one ser­vant wholly to the care of another in case of sickness; but visits their apartments herself, and sees that every thing comfort­able is provided for them; and the whole of the family express a most friendly sym­pathy on those occasions. "If one mem­ber suffers, all the members suffer with it."

TO the kind and affectionate manner in which they treated their servants, is to be [Page 176] ascribed the diligence and fidelity for which they were remarkable. Content­ed and happy in their station, they were ever disposed to do their duty from mo­tives of affection as well as of interest. It was their aim, not only to escape the reproaches of their own conscience, but to enjoy the good will and applause of those whom they served. How amiable must that master and mistress have been, who could thus "enchant beings, the very best of whom can scarce pardon us for their servitude, or for our superiority!"

LETTER LXXV.

IN forming and preserving the mor­als of youth, two things are especially nec­essary to be regarded. They are, the per­nicious effects of bad company and bad books. As these are different sources of the same kind of corruption, I shall men­tion them separately, and begin with viti­ated associates as the origin of the greatest [Page 177] evil, because it commences at a much ear­lier period than the other.

MAN is formed for society; and, in a state of absolute solitude, there can be no enjoyment. Our joys are insipid, when alone; and our sorrows insupport­able, without a friend. "From society proceed all the refined comforts and supe­rior enjoyments of life; and from society, (so very much mixed are all human bless­ings) proceed the greatest advantages and evils of life. Good society is no less dif­ficult to attain, than it is advantageous when attained. Evil society, as common as the air, is as blasting to the manners, as that air, when it bears on its noxious wings pestilence and disease." So true is this, that it became a sacred maxim, that "Evil communications corrupt good manners." And it is an adage of long standing, "Tell me with whom you go, and I will tell you what you are."

MRS Bloomsgrove, who appears to have studied human nature with great atten­tion, was extremely cautious on this head. [Page 178] Lest the minds of her children should be tainted with the bad qualities of others, she endeavored to find amusements for them at home; and when they went a­broad, she commonly accompanied them, or rather carried them with her on visits when young; and afterwards she and her husband were very watchful over the characters of the youth with whom they associated. Boys are in much more dan­ger from this quarter than girls: they have more opportunities, and less cau­tion: they have need therefore of more constant watchfulness. If they are suf­fered to mix intimately with rude, disor­derly children, they will insensibly con­tract similar habits, which will baffle all dry lessons to the contrary.

AN intimacy therefore was encouraged between Osander, Philo, and two or three others of good disposition and decent manners. With these he was permitted to make a little party at home, and some­times at their houses. On these occasions they were indulged full latitude in inno­cent [Page 179] mirth; to walk in the garden, and to gather fruit for themselves. It was by means of an early acquaintance with boys of this cast, that Osander had a taste for good company only; and it made it no difficult thing, to preserve him free from the danger of vicious companions. His ear became too delicate for the vile lan­guage of the profane, and the vociferous mirth of the rude. His taste was too re­fined and elevated, to receive any pleasure from companions whose enjoyments con­sisted in a gambling table, a tavern, or the gratification of some vitiated appetite. No one sees his companions with more pleasure, or has a higher relish for social enjoyments; but associates in vice have no charms for him.

LOOSE and dissolute companions prov­ed the bane of Misander; and these are the most formidable enemies a young man is in danger of. From the very nature of social union, he will study to be assim­ilated to his companions, and they will strive to make him so, for without likeness [Page 180] there can be no complacency. Under the ruins of such connexions lie buried many a promising youth, the hope of his parents; many a splendid genius, the pride of human nature, and which prom­ised great public usefulness. Instances innumerable might be summoned to the present purpose, but I shall satisfy myself with the following.

A WRITER of reputation, speaking of prince Eugene of Soissons, says—"All those qualifications and endowments that can procure love and esteem, shone con­spicuous in this young prince. A grace­ful person, the most engaging affability and sweetness of temper, a quick under­standing, an heroic ardor, a skill in the sciences, and other parts of polite litera­ture (which was the more extraordinary in a prince then but fifteen years of age) united to justify the exalted hopes con­ceived of him. He shewed a strong in­clination to a military life, and at that early period was inuring himself to it; so that commonly a bare board served him [Page 181] for a pillow. The king had taken the greatest care of his education, and suffered him to be ignorant of no branch of knowl­edge, which might contribute to his fu­ture advancement.

"TO keep him out of the way of public diversions and other dissipations, he resid­ed at a distance from court, having apart­ments at the riding academy: there he gave himself up to the study of the scien­ces, with such intenseness and application, that he scarce came to court once in a week, nor appeared at any public diver­sions. The apartments of the prince and his excellent tutor were full of a philo­sophical apparatus, and mathematical in­struments; of the construction and use of which the prince had gained a perfect knowledge, as it were by way of diversion. He allowed himself no other amusements, but such as improve, as well as divert the mind; and was as fond of these as too many young gentlemen are of diversions which tend to alienate their minds from any intense application, and render them unable to bear the least hardship.

[Page 182]"HOW great things were to be expected from a prince of such endowments, so dis­posed to the worthiest pursuits, so closely applying himself to them, making so hap­py a progress in them! Alas! every pleasing expectation formed of him prov­ed, in the event, vain! Bad companions insinuated themselves into his esteem; bad examples found him unable to with­stand them: when the vicious were his companions, their manners were no long­er his abhorrence. By associating himself with them, he soon became as abandoned as the worst of them; and in a few years, having lost his virtue, he unhappily lost his life.

"THERE cannot be a stronger or more melancholy proof of the fatal influence, which bad company and bad examples have over the best cultivated and best dis­posed minds. How then can others ex­pect to avoid the contagion, tho ever so carefully informed and well inclined, if they are hardy enough to venture into the midst of it; even when they see be­fore [Page 183] their eyes a youth, thus well trained, blasted at once, and all his fair blossoms withering, ere they were ripened into promised fruit?"

BISHOP Burnett gives us the following account of the learned and pious Sir Matthew Hale—That when a youth he was too much addicted to the society of some vicious people, which he did not break off, till an alarming accident drove him from it. Being invited with some other young students to a carouse out of town, one of the company drank to such excess, that he fell down as dead before them. All present were terrified, and used every means in their power to re­cover him again to himself. The cir­cumstance so affected Mr. Hale, who had remonstrated against the excess, that he went into another room, and shutting the door, fell on his knees, and prayed ear­nestly to God, both for his friend, that he might be restored to life again, and that himself might be forgiven for having coun­tenanced such excesses. He also vowed [Page 184] to God, that he never would again keep company in that manner, nor drink an­other health while he lived. His friend recovered, and Mr. Hale most religiously observed his vow, till his dying day. It was this great man's resolution, drawn up by him in writing for his own private use, with regard to company (among other ar­ticles of conduct) to "do good to them; to use God's name reverently, while with them; and to receive good from them, if they were more knowing than himself."

AN English poet has beautifully ex­pressed the advantage of associating with the wise and virtuous, in the following couplet.

LETTER LXXVI.

THE oldest library of which we have any account, was that established among the Egyptians, by their king [Page 185] Osymandias; and upon the front of it was the following inscription, "MEDE­CINE FOR THE MIND." This was ex­pressive of the true design of books. But it is with books, as it is with society; they are the occasion of much good to the world, and vehicles of great mischief. Bad company and bad books have a sim­ilar effect on the mind; they corrupt and debauch the heart, while they please the fancy. It is a melancholy reflection, that such books should be extant. But so it is. The world abounds with them; and they are generally written in order to catch the imagination of the reader, and beguile into vice and error unawares. I do not confine the idea to books of infi­delity, professedly written to undermine the beautiful fabric of christianity, but ex­tend it to all books which have a tenden­cy to serve the cause of immorality, and to be the foul vehicles of indecency, obscen­ity, and profanity.

IT is therefore a great happiness for children to have parents, who are able to [Page 186] judge of the merit of books, and to direct them to the choice of the best authors; and those parents who are not conversant with books, should consult those who are esteemed judges of them. Much time is wasted, even by those who wish to read useful books, for want of a proper selec­tion of the best authors, and a judicious arrangement of them. Mrs. Blooms­grove, whose mind was enlightened by ex­tensive reading, as well as ennobled by virtue and benevolence, had the princi­pal direction of her daughter's reading, as we have already seen. Her husband, of blessed memory, provided books suitable for both his children, and all his family. He took care to keep from their sight, when quite young, the wretched trash with which the world abounds. The free access which many young people have to romances, novels, and plays, has poison­ed the mind and corrupted the morals of many a promising youth; and prevented others from improving their minds in [...]seful knowledge.

[Page 187]I MEAN not to pass an indiscriminate censure on all writings of this stamp; but on a promiscuous and an indiscriminate use of them. Parents take care to feed their children with wholesome diet; and yet how unconcerned about the provision for the mind, whether they are furnished with salutary food, or with trash, chaff, or poison? How many thousands have, by a free use of such books, corrupted their principles, inflamed their imagination, and vitiated their taste, without balancing the account by any solid advantage?

IT was never the wish of Mr. Blooms­grove to deprive his children of the inno­cent pleasures of imagination. But he collected for them the writings of the best poets, historians, travels, characters, geog­raphy, elements of natural philosophy, and books of taste and elegance, miscella­neous, moral, and entertaining. He used them to give him some account of the books they read. This method made them read with attention and recollection. In the evening, he would often inquire [Page 188] how they had passed their time; what they had read, and what improvement they had made; and when they had read a book thro, he would request them to favor him with a particular account, in their own language, of the subject, the author's design, and their opinion of the execution of the work. In the course of this conversation, he would make his own remarks and observations, which made it a scene of entertainment and instruction.

BESIDES, that they were prevented by these means from reading books preju­dicial to them, many advantages arose from rendering an account of what they read. They found it was necessary to read with attention, and to make the sub­ject their own, by digesting it in their own minds; and were sure to be set right, if they had mistaken the writer's design. Many take upon trust whatever they read, especially upon a favorite topic, and nev­er consider the objections which lie against it. Others run over books in so cursory a manner, that they scarcely collect a senti­ment [Page 189] from what they read. They exert no powers of the mind, in order to pluck the flowers which are scattered up and down the unfolding pages, as they go on. If books of ill fame and bad tendency should be read even in this manner, they may be sweet in the mouth, but bitter in the end, for the lurking poison will be im­perceptibly conveyed thro the system, and, if repeated, will corrupt the whole mass.

ANOTHER thing which contributed much to their improvement, was their be­ing directed to keep a common place book, to note the material occurrences, the books they read, the subjects on which they treated, with their own comments upon them, and to transcribe some of the most remarkable passages they contained. This proved a very great advantage to them, both on account of preserving the knowl­edge they acquired, and also of maturing their judgment. While many other young people, who had read no less than they, could recollect little more of a book than [Page 190] the author's name, they could give a good account of their contents.

APROPOS—I consider it a circumstance most auspicious to the rising generation, that our country now abounds with books suitable to every age, and both sexes. From the lisping infant to the full grown youth, there are books suited to please and instruct; which beguile to virtue, [...]hile they invite the reader to gratify his imagination. How much is it to be lamented that books of an opposite cast, with which the country also abounds, should be read with so much avidity by young people! and how unhappy it is "that any of our species should be so lost to all sense of shame, and all feelings of conscience, as to sit down deliberately, and compile a work, entirely in the cause of vice and immorality; a work, which, for aught they know, may serve to pollute the minds of millions, and propagate contagion and iniquity thro genera­tions yet unborn; living and spreading its baneful effects long after the unhap­py [Page 191] hand, which wrote, is mouldered into dust!"

"WORDS, says Mr. Addison, are the transcript of those ideas, which are in the mind of man. Writing and printing are the transcript of words. As the Supreme Being has expressed, and, as it were, printed his ideas in the creation, men ex­press their ideas in books; which, by this great invention of latter ages, may last as long as the sun and moon, and perish on­ly in the general wreck of nature. Books are the legacies which a great genius leaves to mankind, and which are deliver­ed down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn. Now, if writings are thus durable, (continues he) and may pass from age to age, throughout the whole course of time, how careful should an au­thor be of committing any thing to print, that may corrupt posterity, and poison the minds of men with vice and error? Writers of great talents, who employ them in propagating immorality, and seasoning [Page 192] vicious sentiments with wit and humor, are to be looked upon as pests to society, and the enemies of mankind. They leave books behind them to scatter infec­tion, and destroy their posterity. They act the counterparts of a Confucius, or a Socrates; and seem, as it were, sent into the world to deprave human nature, and sink it into the condition of brutality."

DR. Young expresses his indignation at such prostitution of genius, in the follow­ing animated strain.

[Page 193]THE complaint here made, applies principally to foreign writings and for­eign manners. May this rising empire cease to import both the one and the other!

LETTER LXXVII.

ON the subject of religion, mankind are crumbled into an almost infinite va­riety of schemes; and, not satisfied with enjoying that which their education, or their own choice, led them to embrace, have poured out torrents of abuse upon others.

MR. Bloomsgrove, being a person of an independent spirit, and disregarding the terms of reproach with which ignorance or intolerance would guard its usurpa­tions, pursued his own judgment in the religious instruction of his family. His first object was, to stamp on their docile minds, an impression of a benevolent Deity; not doubting but such an impres­sion, [Page 194] early made, would become a ruling principle of action.

IT was placing morals on a sure foot­ing, to assist their young minds in form­ing some idea of a Supreme Being, and to cherish suitable affections towards him, as a continual spring of good actions. A regard to personal interest or reputation, may induce a man of business to punctu­ality and honesty in his dealings. A love of praise may excite to many actions of useful tendency; and a variety of motives may operate in disposing men to preserve a fair character; but no respect may be had in all this to any fixed principles of action. As God is the supreme object of all religious exercises, so a conduct flowing from respect to him will be steady and uniform, like the motive itself. This depends not on any present apparent good, nor on the opinion of the world; but on the sense of moral obligation; and as the authority of God is invariable, and extends to the intention as well as the ac­tion, so to have this moral sense cherished [Page 195] in the mind, will afford the most effectual security against vice, however secretly it may be practised, and will be a constant stimulus to virtue, tho it be not seen of men.

THERE can be very little doubt, that where the morals of youth are preserved pure, religion will have its proper influ­ence in the heart. Religion is natural to man; and so long as the human heart can be guarded against acquired corrup­tion, it will feel a tendency to the indulg­ence of devotion. Sensibility, refined and elevated affections, will mark its char­acter in this state of purity. But in pro­portion as vice is suffered to make its in­roads, that delicacy and susceptibility, with which nature usually furnishes the heart, will be destroyed; "and in the general extinction of our better qualities, it is no wonder that a sentiment so pure as that of piety, should be one of the first to expire. It is certain that the understand­ing may be improved in a knowledge of the world, and in the arts of succeeding [Page 196] in it, while the heart, or whatever consti­tutes the moral and sentimental feelings, is gradually receding from its original perfection. Indeed, experience seems to evince, that it is hardly possible to arrive at the character of a complete man of the world, without losing many of the most valuable sentiments of uncorrupted na­ture. A complete man of the world is an artificial being. He has discarded many of the native and laudable tenden­cies of his mind, and adopted a new system of obj [...]cts and propensities of his own creation. These are common­ly such as tend directly to blunt the sense of every thing liberal, enlarged, and dis­interested; of every thing, which partici­pates more of an intellectual than of a sensual nature."

MR. Bloomsgrove took great care to preserve this moral sensibility; and al­ways directed the minds of his children to God, as the first object of all religious re­gard. This he considered as the great principle which binds together universal intelligence, and leads all rational beings [Page 197] up to the common source. Without this nothing can be secure; no actions or promises, relied upon; all appearances must be delusive; morality, but a name, a sign without the thing signified; society must crumble to pieces, and all things fall into confusion!

SINCE, then, religion is the great combin­ing power which unites the moral world, and secures the order and course of things among men, without some degree of which they could not subsist, and with the highest degree of it would be entirely happy, how wise a part did Mr. Blooms­grove act, in cherishing it in his children! As this could not be effected but by com­municating just ideas of the Deity, he conceived it a duty of indispensable obli­gation to second the voice of nature (which has engraven on the mind the be­ing of a God and the worship due to him) by more explicit instruction.

BEFORE Osander and Rozella were able to comprehend any consistent idea of a Supreme Being, their mamma always [Page 198] represented him in the most pleasing and amiable light; in such a light, as was cal­culated to dispel gloominess, inspire love, and contribute to serenity and cheerful­ness of mind. This had a most happy effect on their dispositions; and led th [...] to form the most pleasing idea of the di­vine character, when they were capable of receiving more rational instruction concerning it. At this period, they were taught to look up to God as their heaven­ly father and friend; that they ought to perform his will, which is to do all the good in their power; that God is always present, and that not a thought can be concealed from him. These instructions were accompanied with descriptions of the Deity, as kind and benevolent; con­ducting all things for the good of his crea­tures; always countenancing the virtu­ous, and rewarding them, if not in this life, yet most certainly in a life to come. They described him as the friend of the good, and the enemy of none but the wicked, whom he readily forgives [Page 199] and receives to favor, when they repent. "As your papa and I, said Mrs. Blooms­grove, when instructing them one day on this subject, are never displeased with you, my dear children, except when you be­have amiss, so our heavenly father is "an­gry with the wicked only▪" Good child­ren, continued she, are not afraid of their parents; and they have no reason to be afraid of their heavenly parent."

"AS it is a capital branch of education, I think the most capital, says Lord Kaimes, it merits great attention. It is easy to fortify in children the belief of a Deity, because his existence is engraved on the human heart; but it is far from being easy to fortify belief, so as to be­come a ruling principle of action: and yet this is indispensable; for belief, with­out producing that effect, is of little sig­nificancy in any case; and least of all with respect to the duties of religion, which are the great and ultimate end of instruction. In order that a firm belief of the Deity may warm the mind to per­severe [Page 200] in what is right, the following hints may be of use to parents and tutors.

"TAKE early and proper opportuni­ties of talking pleasantly to your children of their heavenly father, who loves them, and who, tho unseen, is always doing them good; that he created the sun to warm them, and made the earth to pro­duce every thing necessary for their nour­ishment, and for their clothing. In fine weather, lead them to the fields, and point out to them the various beauties of na­ture. 'How beautiful that smooth plain, intersected with a stream perpetually flowing! how comfortable to the eye its verdure, and how beneficial, by giving food to many innocent and useful ani­mals! Behold that gay parterre, varie­gated with a thousand sweet colors. See that noble oak spreading its branches all around, affording a shade in summer, and shelter in winter. Listen to the birds which cheer us with their music, and are busily employed in bringing forth their young.' Impress it upon the minds of [Page 201] your children, that all these things are contrived by our heavenly father to make us happy; and that it ought to be our chief delight to testify upon all occasions our gratitude to him."

THE parents of Osander and Rozella, who conducted their religious education in this manner, were happy in finding that it prevented them from entertaining any of those frightful notions of the Deity, which were formerly thought to consti­tute the essence of [...]eligion. In those ages, when superstition reared its sable standard, and taught men that, to serve God with fear and dread was the only acceptable manner of worshipping him, the Deity was represented as severe and unforgiving. Nothing could be more pernicious to the cause of religion, than such ideas of its author. Weak minds, it rendered abject and servile; but the bold and the inconsiderate became totally neg­ligent of religion. But as men acquired more rational notions of the Deity, the gloom of superstition dissipated, as vapor before the rising sun.

[Page 202]MR. Bloomsgrove took an early and unceasing care to cherish the devout af­fections in his children, while his eye watched over the other passions of nature, which were springing up. "The fear of God is the beginning of wisdom;" of re­ligious knowledge and practice. But the love of God is the parent of devotion in the heart. Whenever they admired the sun's refulgent beams, the full orbed moon, or any of the striking beauties of nature, he endeavored to raise their thoughts to the Creator; to set before them his great­ness and majesty, without those terrors that might drive them from the contem­plation, but inspire them with a glow of piety and gratitude. In their seasons of recreation and innocent delights, he would represent him as the indulgent parent, from whose bounty they enjoyed such blessings, and who, at all times, can be­stow every good, and guard from every pain and evil. In sickness he recom­mended to them to bear it patiently, be­cause they were in the hands of God, who [Page 203] will do what is best for them; and be­cause he will reward their patience in a proper time. It was by means of this cheerful doctrine, early instilled into their minds, that they acquired a habit of look­ing up to the Deity in the amiable light of friend and benefactor, while awe and veneration, free from servile dread, com­posed their minds.

AT the age of twenty, Rozella affords to her sex a most pleasing example of pi­ety; and whatever advantage religion can receive from the lustre of female ac­complishments, it derives from her. In the midst of youthful life, and polite cir­cles, she never forgets who, and what she is. She never does any thing of conse­quence, without first considering whether it will be agreeable to her maker, and sat­isfactory to her own mind, upon reflec­tion. Her life is cheerful, because it is innocent: She is universally beloved, because unexceptionably good, and uni­formly pious.

[Page 204]OSANDER having been trained in the belief of an om [...]present being, whose providence super [...]ntends all his works, felt the sentiment to be an effectual se­curity against vice and dissimulation. Accustomed to consider himself always in the actual presence of an all seeing De­ity, he would as soon think of attempting to hide his intentions from himself as from his maker. The intercourse with heaven which they had maintained by habit from childhood, became their delightful em­ployment, when they arrived at mature age. They fly to God as their best friend, and only sure protector in every diffi­culty; and pour out their hearts in grate­ful praises for his favors. With pleasure they retire to pray unto him, who seeth in secret and will reward openly; and they find more exalted and permanent enjoy­ment in such devout exercises, than in seasons devoted to mirth and gaiety.

DEEPLY impressed with a conviction of the truth and importance of revealed re­ligion; it was an object of peculiar atten­tion [Page 205] with these worthy parents, to make their children acquainted with its princi­ples and doctrines, as their minds opened to receive them. Altho they led them on in their own mode of worship, which they considered the indispensable duty of all parents, yet they were assiduously taught that these differences of sentiment, and modes of worship, which they observed among Christians, afforded no just ground of discord; that all persecution on ac­count of religion, or strife and contention about modes and forms of it, must be re­pugnant to that system, the design of which was to establish peace on earth, and to promote good will among men; that religion was given for our good, and there­fore that any scheme of it, which has a tendency to disturb the peace, or endan­ger the safety of society, comes not from God. They were taught that the Christ­ian religion consists, not in external forms and appearances, but in truth and sincerity, and in the practice of every sub­stantial virtue; that modes of faith or [Page 206] worship are nothing more than signs, and that love and charity, truth and righteous­ness, are the things signified; and there­fore that different sentiments or modes, which have a tendency to promote these, do not hinder Christians of all denomina­tions from living together amicably. The state of human nature was represented to them as degraded by sin, and exposed by transgression to the heaviest penalties; but that a remedy is provided in Jesus Christ; that the Gospel contains the most astonish­ing display of God's mercy to a revolting world; that it is a scheme of benevolence, suited to engage the warmest gratitude to its great author; and that it is divinely accommodated to the nature and condition of man, and suited to inspire mutual for­bearance, kindness, and condescension; that it opens the door of hope, which hu­man apostacy had closed; that it teaches us wherein our true interest consists in this world, and holds up to view a state of transcendent glory and felicity in that which is to come.

[Page 207]THESE sentiments, I doubt not, will meet your approbation, notwithstand­ing all that is said against p [...]dicing children in favor of this or the other scheme of religion. The object is not to make them sectaries, but good hearted Christians. How can this be done but by the use of some means? and what means shall parents employ, but those which they have sound salutary to them­selves? You and I, my dear sir, have as­sumed different modes in the external profession of religion. In the spirit of it I trust we perfectly agree. In the re­ligious education of our families, it is equally fit and proper that we lead them in the way in which we respectively walk.

LETTER LXXVIII.

SURE I am that you will not admit Rousseau's plan of religious instruction. He says it should be deferred till fifteen, [Page 208] or even eighteen years of age, because "the idea which a young mind forms of God is low and unworthy of him;" and because "it is better to have no ideas of God than such as are injurious." The same objection will hold against cultivat­ing a sense of Deity upon the mind at all, for at best our notions of him must be gross and imperfect: and, as to having ideas injurious, because childish, I con­ceive there can be no danger from this quarter, if he is represented in the amia­ble light above described. "Will not the idea of divine benevolence be relished, while pleasure and hope combine to make the morning of life serene? Is there a like­lier means of averting injurious thoughts of God, than presenting such as are just?" A mind, early enlightened with views of the divine goodness, and touched with the participation of it, is prepared to meet with temporary evils, and to discern good­ness thro the veil. But if religious in­struction is deferred till the late period mentioned by Rousseau, there is very lit­tle [Page 209] reason to expect that it will ever be at­tended to. Such persons must pass thro life, destitute of the surest guide; and thro death, without the light of religion to illumine, or a ray of hope to cheer their passage thro the gloomy vale.

"THE propriety of prayer, says the noble writer before mentioned, is seldom questioned, except by philosophers."

ROUSSEAU says, "I thank God for his favors, but I do not pray to him. What should I ask?" He professes "not to phi­losophize with his pupil, but to assist him in consulting his own heart." And is there not in the heart a tendency to prayer strongly felt, at times; as in dangers that human power cannot avert; in perplexity, from which human prudence cannot ex­tricate; under sorrow, for which this world yields no consolation, and under the pangs of an awakened conscience? Was it not a dictate of the heart, which made the mothers in Israel bring their lit­tle children to Jesus, that he might lay his hands on them and pray?

[Page 210]"SHORT forms of prayer are of use at first. As children advance, let the form be varied. Let it express a sense of de­pendence, gratitude, and a desire to grow in favor with God and men. Let prayer to God be made with reverence. Rev­erence may be felt, even before the object of it is distinctly apprehended. From that sympathetic reverence which the so­lemnities of worship excite, the mind gradually rises to an invisible object.

"THE preparation of the heart is nec­essary. It may be prepared by elevating views of nature:—'The heavens declare the glory of God:' they declare it to the inhabitants of the earth. 'There is no speech nor language, where their voice is not heard.' 'Their awful and majestic silence speaks the language of every peo­ple. It speaks to the heart of every man.' Before that powerful and benign Majesty, let us bow and worship. Views of provi­dence may in like manner prepare the heart. 'I wound and I heal. I kill and I make alive.' To that being, in whose [Page 211] hand our life is, and who alone can make us happy, let us devote ourselves. Select passages of scripture may be used to pre­dispose the heart. Prayer degenerates into rote, if the heart is not prepared. While you pray with and for your child­ren, the principles of devotion in their minds unfold. In that sacred hour, they feel themselves the objects of tender af­fection: they perceive that you are as de­pendent as they; that blessings must be derived from a higher hand on yourselves and on them. The stated and avowed exercise of devotion, is the only remedy against false shame; the strongest argu­ments cannot overcome it. Let parents who believe in the efficacy of prayer, and who are yet ashamed to pray, deliver their children from the same temptation. When the habit of praying daily is ac­quired, devout thoughts associate with the hour of prayer. The impression of God's presence, often renewed, checks tempta­tion, and strengthens virtue, and estab­lishes tranquillity of mind on a good foundation."

[Page 212]IF love to men is promoted by exciting and regulating sentiments of humanity at an early period, may not love to God be promoted by raising devout sentiments, before the heart is occupied by the cares and pleasures of this life?

TO you, my dear children, said Mr. Bloomsgrove, as he [...] walking with them, his nephew, and Fanny, on the mar­gin of the river, one evening when the setting sun had cast in soft shades all the beauties of nature, I recommend piety to the great author of all the wonders we here survey. Piety is the surest founda­tion of morals, the best guard against the evils to which you are exposed in life, and the only unfailing source of comfort un­der them. It is a disposition most grace­ful and becoming in youth, and it argues great sensibility of heart. The want of it implies a coldness of heart, and an insen­sibility which does not belong to your pe­riod of life.

YOUTH, continued Mr. Bloomsgrove, is the season of warm and generous emo­tions. [Page 213] Then should the heart spontane­ously rise into the admiration of what is great; glow with the love of what is fair and excellent; and melt at the discovery of tenderness and goodness: and where, my dear children, can any object be found, so proper to kindle these affec­tions, as the great Father of the universe, and the Author of all these beauties, which afford so much pleasure to the eye? If the grandeur and majesty, which his works every where display have so agreeable an effect on the mind, what reverence and pleasing awe must the contemplation of his moral character inspire?—He was here interrupted a few minutes, by the arrival of Philo and his sister Aurelia, who had called on the young gentlemen and ladies. After the introductory saluta­tions were over, they made some observa­tion on the beautiful scenery which lay before them. Yes, said Mr. Blooms­grove, I was just conducting the minds of your young friends thro these effects, up to their original cause; and then re­peated [Page 214] to Philo and his sister, who were amiable youths, the substance of what he had been saying; and added; you cannot, surely, my dear friends, view that profu­sion of good, which, in this pleasing sea­son of life, the beneficent hand of heaven pours around you, without emotions of gratitude. God is seen in his works and felt in his favors.

YOU are now capable of tasting the pleasures of admiration and praise, of trust and confidence, of society and friendship. Happy in the love and esteem of your connexions and friends, you are to look up to the author of na­ture as the inspirer of all the friendship which has been shewn you by others; himself your best friend, the supporter of your infancy, the guide of your child­hood, now, the guardian of your youth, and the hope of your coming years. You should consider religious homage as a natural expression of gratitude to him, for all his goodness; and let not your de­votion be the cold and barren offspring of speculation, but the warm and vigorous [Page 215] dictate of the heart, guided by the light of the understanding.

MR. Bloomsgrove was prevented fol­lowing the delightful subject any further at that time, by the approach of night. Fearing that the heavy dew, which began to fall, might injure their health, he pro­posed returning to the house. As they were passing thro the spiral walk, which ascended from the river to the summit of the hill, inhaling the ambrosial sweets which perfumed the air, he took occasion to display the beauties of virtue, and the sweet fragrance of innocence, by analogy. His conversation▪ enlivened by those nat­ural and striking figures, appeared to his youthful friends, like "apples of gold in pictures of silver."

THIS conversation, united to the pleas­antness of the scene, had so engaged their attention, that they were surprised to find themselves so soon arrived at the house. Here Rozella entertained the company with a few sprightly airs on the harpsi­chord, interluded by many pleasantries [Page 216] between the young people. Having re­galed themselves with fruit, and enjoyed a social hour in youthful amusement, Au­relia reminded Mr. Bloomsgrove that he had promised to entertain them with some account of the true art of pleasing, and very modestly said she hoped he would now gratify them. Mr. Bloomsgrove, pleased at the delicate manner in which Aurelia expressed her wish, replied, with a smile, "I find promises made to young ladies are of indispensable obligation. But previous to that, I will entertain you with a number or two of Mr. Addison's Spectator, (which he then had in his hand) on a similar subject, if it is agreeable." They all joined in requesting him to pro­ceed; and, having read the numbers he proposed,^* he complied with Aurelia's request, which was, indeed, the wish of all the company. The substance of what he [Page 217] said on that subject, I shall endeavor to collect and transmit you by the next post.

LETTER LXXIX.

TO render ourselves agreeable to each other by soft and graceful manners, is a dictate of humanity. To do this from principles of benevolence, and with­out dissimulation, is among the leading precepts of Christianity. I am sorry to find that polite writers have recommend­ed the art of pleasing upon different grounds. Some learned writers, of aus­tere virtue, have condemned the art of pleasing, not only as having no connex­ion with religion, but as inconsistent with the purity and simplicity of its doctrines. While others, inattentive to true excel­lence, have considered religion either as incompatible with, or no ways related to the art of pleasing. The former we shall dismiss, with their brother Diogenes, to [Page 218] his solitary tub, and endeavor to rectify the mistaken notion of the other.

IF the true art of pleasing consists in an appearance of good dispositions and amiable qualities, exhibited in an agreea­ble light, then the perfection of this art must consist in possessing the qualities which we would display. For the reali­ty must certainly be more agreeable than an appearance only. Can any one be more pleased with flattery and deceit than with truth and sincerity? Can softness and plausibility of manners atone for the want of benevolence and generosity? Or can attention, assiduity, and gracefulness, compensate for meanness of spirit, hard­ness of heart, selfishness, and a total want of those virtues which can flow only from opposite passions?

I WOULD recommend to you, my young friends, to exalt the talent of pleas­ing a [...]ove the fraudful arts of flattery and deceit: place it in the rank of virtues sounded upon principle, and on the best dispositions of human nature. Indeed, [Page 219] the virtues and the graces are much more nearly allied, than those who are the ad­vocates of the latter, without possessing the former, are sensible of. The moral virtues, when clearly understood and re­duced to practice, afford an assemblage of every thing beautiful and excellent; and what can be more agreeable than that placid serenity, by which image the true character of religion is described? You will readily allow that good coin is, in all cases, preferable to counterfeit; and it will never fail of having a currency from its own intrinsic value. As much more valuable, and sure of success, are attempts to please, when excited by mo­rality and religion (to which all the em­bellishments of external gracefulness may be added) than the tinsel outside of false pretenders, with all their duplicity.

WHAT can be more conducive to the true art of pleasing, than that gentleness of disposition and manners▪ that pliability of temper and conduct, which the sub­lime morality of the gospel recommends? [Page 220] Whatever is malignant in its nature, or hurtful in its tendency, religion roots out or corrects; and inculcates whatever is just, mild, and candid. By curing the heart of its moral disorders, eradicating pride, envy, malice, and all the malevo­lent passions, it destroys the source of ev­ery thing disagreeable in manners; and, by inculcating the opposite dispositions, promotes a system of conduct, which, without any guile or deceit, cannot fail of being agreeable.

TO form an opinion of the different ef­fects of that pleasing art which flows from principle, and that which is void of sin­cerity, contrast the character of Mr. M— with that of Mr. N—. The former is distinguished by the softness and gentleness of his address: assiduous to please, he assumes every appearance of benevolence, generosity, and friendship, especially towards people of fashion and fortune; and his attentions, assiduities, and gracefulness, procure him a favorable reception among those who are pleased [Page 221] with varnished qualities, which are not supported by any thing within corres­ponding to them. Under this disguise, lurk meanness, selfishness, and avarice. In his private character, he is as remarka­ble for cruelty to his servants, unchari­tableness to the poor, and the want even of an appearance of friendship or benev­olence to those, whose riches or rank do not lead him to cultivate their favor, as he is for the elegance of his manners in polite circles.

ON the other hand, Mr. N—, whose actions are the true index of his heart, possesses qualities equally capable of pleasing all, without the danger of of­fending any by the want of virtue and benevolence. To the polite address of an accomplished gentleman, he unites all the virtues of the Christian. He evident­ly derives his talent at pleasing, not from the study of the world, not from an ap­pearance of qualities which disguise real deformities; but from the amiable dispo­sitions of the heart, expressed in his grace­ful [Page 222] and obliging manners. As he pos­sesses the substantial powers of pleasing, polished by a taste for society, he is un­der no necessity of injuring his conscious feelings, by assuming deceitful appear­ances without any reality: and, what is of more consequence to his happiness, than pleasing others, he will be satisfied with himself; and, on a review of life, will en­joy tranquillity of mind, unalloyed by the recollection of treachery and deceit.— The conversation was here interrupted by the arrival of Angelina, Fanny's sister, who, combining in one fair form all the virtues and the graces, was justly entitled to the elegant person and ample fortune of young Mr. —, to whom she had been united in marriage a few months since: and Philo and his sister returned home much pleased with THE ART OF PLEASING.^*

[Page 223]P. S. WHERE can be found a better man, or a more polite gentleman, than the late Dr. C—, of Boston, whose death you so much regretted when I saw you last? In him united the gentleman, the scholar, and the Christian. The happy assemblage of these qualities in his char­acter, endeared him to his numerous ac­quaintance, and rendered him more ex­tensively useful: and while religion received lustre from his literary and polite accomplishments, these, in turn, derived their greatest power of pleasing from religion.

LETTER LXXX.

IT is a circumstance very desirable, that parents should be agreed in senti­ment upon the importance of observing the sabbath, and of attending upon pub­lic worship with their families. An at­tendance on public worship has ever been considered, by all wise and good men, a [Page 224] decent avowal of piety. It was the ob­servation of one of this character, that— "In the solemn assembly, the distinction of ranks is suspended, mutual benevo­lence kindles, and the fire of devotion burns: the laws of God are heard with reverence. Tho the effects of social worship are not always felt, thro the dis­traction of the worshipper, or the inca­pacity of those who minister; still one of just and liberal sentiments, will add the weight of his example to an institution, which, with all its imperfections, promotes a sense of God and of moral obligation among men."

SATISFIED that all religion stands or falls with this, Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove accustomed their children and family to a decent observance of that day, sacred to instruction and piety. That they might derive every possible advantage from an institution so admirably fitted to our con­dition in the present life, they rose at an early hour to hail the welcome day; and, having offered the morning incense on the [Page 225] domestic altar, they repaired constantly to the place of public worship; alluring their family to a cheerful attendance by motives suited to their age and disposi­tion, by the beauty and order of worship, and by their own example, and that of others.

HAVING established the practice of a steady attendance, they found no diffi­culty in continuing it; and nothing could exceed the beauty of this little flock, moving together in solemn pace, to pay their devout attendance on the ordinances of religion. Every member of the fami­ly, who could possibly be spared from the necessary offices of a domestic state, always appeared at both public services of the sab­bath. They never suffered them to wan­der from one place of worship to another; not from want of charity to all denomi­nations, but to avoid an appearance of levity, and of disrespect to their own minister, and the church to which they belonged. Great regard was had to those whose servile state made their absence [Page 226] sometimes unavoidable: their service was alleviated as much as possible on that day; and whenever circumstances would admit, their attendance was regarded as an in­dispensable duty.

THOSE parents and householders, who think it their indispensable duty to pay their devotions at the house of worship themselves, must be sensible that duty binds with equal force to see that their children and domestics regularly attend upon it also. Their attendance was not only constant but punctual, and accom­panied with an exemplary decency in their external deportment. I the rather mention these circumstances, because there are many who wish to educate their child­ren well, and yet pay very little attention to these means of improvement. They appear never to have considered, of how great importance they are to domestic ed­ucation. A well regulated house of pub­lic worship is a school of refinement and good manners, as well as of instruction and devotion. What plan could be conceiv­ed [Page 227] of, as having a stronger tendency to correct the follies, and form the morals of youth, than a steady attendance on social worship with those, whose decent and rev­erent behavior inspires them with the love of order and propriety, and gives them exalted ideas of their Maker?

THAT no kind of influence might be wanting to render the public services use­ful to the family, the worthy clergyman, whose ministry they attended, was treated with every mark of respect by them; and was often made a guest at their hospitable table and in their friendly circles. The learning, politeness, and piety of this a­miable minister of religion, rendered his company always agreeable and profitable. Easy and affable in his manners, the child­ren listen with pleasure to his observations on various subjects. Charmed with his delicate manner of expressing himself, and delighted with the beautiful images by which he would represent the excellence of virtue and religion, they wished to be possessed of that, to which he gave so pleas­ing [Page 228] a form. Often would he amuse them with entertaining stories and anecdotes, suited to catch the ear and reach the heart; and in turn would hear their sto­ries, and pleasantly shew them how to draw a moral from them.

MRS. Bloomsgrove usually spent some time, after the services of the Lord's day were over, with her children and domes­tics, instructing them in the principles of religion and virtue, following her instruc­tions with advice and counsel. Most af­fectionately would she press it upon them to regard their Maker as their best friend, and the practice of virtue and piety as their highest wisdom; and she was able to say in language of maternal affection— "My dear children, be ye followers of me, even as I am of Christ."

I HAVE mentioned Mrs. Bloomsgrove, because these exercises commonly fall to the mother's lot; and, to the early care of pious mothers, are we generally to ascribe the first dawnings of true wisdom: But Mr. Bloomsgrove was not wanting in due [Page 229] attention to whatever practice would en­courage a spirit of piety and virtue among his household. Attendance on the pub­lic worship was not the only exemplary exercise of the sabbath with him. In ad­dition to domestic worship, reading the scriptures and books of rational devotion, he assisted them in refreshing their mem­ories, and impressing their minds with what they had heard. These exercises, conducted in an easy familiar manner, and so varied as to have the air of novelty, never appeared long and tedious; but se­cured the attention, and informed the un­derstanding, while they warmed the heart. Other advantages besides instruction arose from this practice. It preserved the fam­ily together on the sabbath, a thing of great consequence to domestic order. It prevented the reprehensible practice of visits, parties, and of vain and useless con­versation, by which all good influence from public instruction is often lost.

MARK well the happy effects of all this care and pains! With what pleasure do they assemble together for the most im­portant [Page 230] purposes! What serene cheerful­ness mingles with the seriousness of the parents! With what attention do the children and servants listen to the instruc­tions which, like the gentle dew of Her­mon, distil from their lips! Sweet was the harmony which prevailed; and happy the effects which this practice produced in their temper and manners! This house was a lively emblem of the fair mansions above. Their days flowed sweetly on, unembittered by contention, undisturbed by reflections on the past, or anticipations of the future. They accounted the sab­bath a delight, the holy of the Lord, hon­orable; and the church of Christ the gate of heaven: and tho rich in the goods of fortune, and high on the list of fame, yet they esteemed religion to be their chief riches; and that it was their highest hon­or to be numbered among the disciples of the humble Jesus.

LET the vain and the giddy, if they will, condemn all this as superstition and bigotry; it adds dignity and amiableness to the eminent character of Mr. Blooms­grove, [Page 231] while it spreads the genial influ­ence of religion thro his house. Let them who will, conceive of religion as inimical to cheerfulness and pleasure; the reverse is the case: Fear and gloominess are neither the offspring, nor the companions of religion: Pleasantness and peace are her inmates. Who has so much reason for enlivening joy, as he who lives under the smiles of approving heaven? and what domestic joys are so highly flavored, as those which are tinctured, and kept alive by a genuine sense of religion? Where shall happiness be found, if not in those dwellings, where good nature, good sense, and piety reign? A thousand acts of the most endearing love and friendship con­firm their mutual attachment, and con­stantly add new pleasures to the domestic state.

ADIEU, my dear sir; I rejoice with you in the recovery of your son from the dan­gerous sickness with which he has been visited. May your gratitude bear some proportion to the favor you have receiv­ed; and may your domestic happiness [Page 232] ever proceed on the sure basis of religion. My best respects attend your good lady. In my next I will comply with your re­quest.

LETTER LXXXI.

ON reading the pamphlets which you were so obliging as to send me, I can­not forbear to express my astonishment at the inconsistency, between the love of lib­erty which prevails in our country, and the practices of many individuals in in­thralling their fellow creatures. Ameri­cans can write with precision upon the principles of liberty. With valor they can defend their own liberties, when at­tacked by foreign power or domestic in­surrection! and yet many, who can de­fend their own rights with one hand, are extending the other for the purpose of en­slaving a part of their own species. This surely is departing from the golden rule of doing as we would be done unto.

[Page 233]I AM very sorry to find that my worthy friend Mr. M— has changed sides; and from being an able, and warm advo­cate for the rights of human nature, and the liberties of mankind, has become an advocate for the practice of enslaving the Africans, by excluding them from a com­munity of nature with our own species. Is it then a sufficient argument with him to cut them off from sharing in that na­ture, to which, it must be confessed, he adds honor and dignity, because of their woolly hair, their flat nose, and black face, and their supposed want of natural ge­nius and abilities? May not physical caus­es be assigned for these phenomena in the personal appearance? and may not the totally uncultivated state in which they live, in their own country, and their de­pressed condition in a state of servitude,^* account for the apparent want of intel­lectual faculties? What strength of native genius would not be requisite, in order to [Page 234] break thro this thick cloud, and sparkle, while thus wrapt up in its own cell? Shall we pronounce the diamond void of lustre, and incapable of any polish, because it does not glitter while it lies in its native crust? As well may we do this, as suppose the Africans incapable of improvements, and, therefore, an inferior order of beings, because they, as a people, have not exhib­ited marks of genius equal to more civil­ized and enlightened nations. Instances of genius, however, have not been want­ing among them, tho they are not numer­ous. If there is any weight in this argu­ment, does it not prove too much? Is there a greater difference between the av­erage abilities of Americans and that of the Africans, than between the acquire­ments of Sir Isaac Newton and a common porter in Philadelphia? If there is not, and yet their inferiority is to prove that they are not of the same species with us, will it not follow that the above mention­ed porter belongs to a species of beings inferior to that of Sir Isaac Newton? Nay, [Page 235] will it not follow also, that every differ­ent grade, in natural or acquired abilities, between these two extremes, draws a line between different species of beings, and so destroys all those obligations of love and charity, justice and beneficence, which arise from a community of nature? for on this ground only can we place the common law of commutative justice.

AMONG the many excellent remarks which Governor Jefferson, now Ambassa­dor at the court of Versailles, makes on this subject, I think the following worthy the serious consideration of Mr. M—, which may have escaped his notice.

SPEAKING of Virginia, he says, "There must doubtless be an unhappy influence on the manners of our people produced by the existence of slavery among us. The whole commerce between master and slave is a perpetual exercise of the most boister­ous passions, the most unremitting despot­ism on the one part, and degrading sub­missions on the other. Our children see this, and learn to imitate it; for man is an [Page 236] imitative animal. This quality is the germ of all education in him. From his cradle to his grave, he is learning to do what he sees others do. If a parent could find no motive either in his philanthropy or his self love, for restraining the intem­perance of his passion towards his slave, it should always be a sufficient one that his child is present. But generally it is not sufficient. The parent storms, the child looks on, catches the lineaments of wrath, puts on the same airs in the circle of smaller slaves, gives a loose to his worst of passions, and thus nursed, educated, and daily exercised in tyranny, cannot but be stamped by it with odious peculiarities. The man must be a prodigy, who can re­tain his manners and morals undepraved by such circumstances. And with what execration should the statesman be loaded, who, permitting one half the citizens thus to trample on the rights of the other, transforms those into despots, and these into enemies, destroys the morals of the one part, and the amor patriae of the oth­er. [Page 237] For if a slave can love a country in this world, it must be any other in prefer­ence to that in which he is born to live and labor for another; in which he must lock up the faculties of his nature, contribute as far as depends on his individual en­deavors to the evanishment of the human race, or entail his own miserable condition on the endless generations proceeding from him.

"WITH the morals of the people, their industry is destroyed. For, in a warm climate, no man will labor for himself who can make another labor for him. This is so true, that of the proprietors of slaves a very small proportion indeed are ever seen to labor. And can the liberties of a nation be thought secure, when we have removed their only firm basis, a con­viction that these liberties are the gift of God? That they are not to be violated but with his wrath? Indeed I tremble for my country when I reflect that God is ju [...]: that his justice cannot sleep forever: that considering numbers, nature, and [Page 238] natural means only, a revolution of the wheel of fortune, an exchange of situa­tion, is among possible events: that it may become probable by supernatural in­terference! The Almighty has no attri­bute that can take sides with us in such a contest."

IT hence appears that true policy and domestic education, as well as religion and morals, loudly plead against a practice, which has no other than interested and avaricious motives to plead in its favor. As the public mind is now prepared to bear testimony against this practice, which centres in the hands of a few individuals only, and is rapidly growing into disrepute in Europe, query whether the evil might not be radically cured, by making it a part of domestic education? And it were to be wished that short dialogues, and other pieces, suitable for schools and academies, were offered to the public by some able hand, in which the injustice and inhu­manity of the practice may be properly exhibited. This would have a tendency [Page 239] to beget, in the minds of youth, an early detestation of it. It is undoubtedly our duty to arrest the attention of young minds to the cause of virtue and human­ity, peace and charity, by every means which has any prospect of success.

HOW incompatible this commerce is with the character of a Christian people, you may clearly learn from Isaiah's pro­phetic description of the peaceable king­dom of the Messiah, and the happy ef­fects it would produce on the temper and conduct of mankind towards each other? Beautiful is the figure, and peaceful the motto of this prophetic portrait. The scene is laid as on the summit of a gilded mountain, which reflects its divinely en­lightening rays on every side, until "the whole earth is full of the knowledge of the Lord." On the top of this mountain springs up a branch, from an ancient stock, green, vigorous, and spreading. Under its shadow, the wolf and the lamb, the leopard and the kid, the lion and the satling, the young child and the serpent, [Page 240] all rest together in harmonious sort. And this is their perpetual motto, "THEY SHALL NOT HURT NOR DESTROY IN ALL THIS HOLY MOUNTAIN."^*

P. S. IF we should, for a moment, al­low Mr. M— to be right in his theory, it does not follow that we have a right to the involuntary and unrewarded service of the Africans; much less that we have any right to make property of them; for God never gave man this right. The original grant of dominion to man over the inferior ranks of creatures extended only to "the fish of the sea, the beasts of the earth, the fowl of the air, and every thing that CREEPETH upon the earth." Any order of creatures, however inferior to us, not answering either of these de­scriptions, cannot fall under the dominion of man in the sense in which they do.

AND in what respect do Africans an­swer this description? If in none, it will follow that there is no sense in which we can claim them as property.

[Page 241]BUT if we should grant that the claims of property, founded on supposed inferi­ority in the scale of being, is just; yet nothing can justify the cruel usage they often experience. The ground on which dominion over the animal world was given to man, was, the likeness he bore to the Deity. It was merely on account of his being endued with reason and moral recti­tude, and inspired with kind and benevo­lent affections, by which he was assimu­lated to the divine character, that he was constituted lord of this lower creation, and made the representative of its great author and governor, and the dispenser of his authority. And as we are created after the image of God, so we should imitate his example, in the government of the universe, in exercising that dominion over the animal world which he has given us. Cruelty or severity to them shews that we have lost those sentiments of goodness and pity, which are our most glorious resem­blance of the Creator. How much more does cruelty to our own species shew the depravity of the best affections of the hu­man heart.

[Page 242]"CONCEIVE then a human being, with a number of his fellow creatures in his power; their sustenance at his discretion, administered only to enable them to la­bor; their enjoyments enumerated or dealt out with a strict regard to the profits of the master: and when parts, even of their bodies, are thought to divert atten­tion from a wretched task, they are muti­lated in methods atrocious to humanity. Will it be said, any law or usage can rec­oncile, or afford satisfaction to man, while he subjects a being of the same form and sensibility to such misery?

"EVERY ingenious evasion, on the sub­ject of slavery, has been used, to excuse civilized nations, in having recourse to it. The sciences have been called to the assist­ance of this vile cause; and have been prostituted to defend it. Differences in the formation have been discovered; the superiority of white to black persons has been inferred, and consequently the right of slavery. The argument, if good, would prove too much. Anatomy exhibiting [Page 243] only a difference, a negro may pro­nounce it in his favor, and infer the right of enslaving his present oppressor. But superiority does not imply this kind of power; and custom cannot accommodate or reconcile it to the reason and goodness of the human mind."

LETTER LXXXII.

WILL you now, my dear sir, take a turn with me back to the school at Tus­culum, where we find Osander making improvements under his judicious pre­ceptor, which answered the expectations and gratified the wishes of his father. He pursued his studies with such industry, as soon gained him the first rank of scholar­ship among the youth. He did not, how­ever, acquire a relish for the dead lan­guages. The native energy of his genius made him pant for more improving and agreeable studies.

[Page 244]I THINK it is a matter worthy of con­sideration, whether the Latin and Greek languages have not been made, too much, the tests of genius in our schools; and whether public advantage might not arise from abolishing the custom of making a knowledge of them an indispensable con­dition of a public education. Many per­sons of genius, perhaps, have been pre­vented gaining their proper rank in soci­ety, because they could not plod the dull round of tasteless languages. The time, which is consumed in the study of these languages, by those who will have no use for the knowledge of them in the business or occupations of life, might, surely, be better employed in the pursuit of such branches of learning, as would apply more directly to their future employments.

OF this Mr. Bloomsgrove became more convinced, as he perceived that his son made great proficiency in other parts of literature. As he designed his son for a civilian, he determined to waste no more time in the study of languages, for which [Page 245] he had no taste. In order that his mind might be formed to a right temper, and the habits of virtue might be well fixed, he continued him longer at the school than usual, for the sake of having him un­der his own eye. He considered, on the other hand, the danger which might fol­low from retaining him too long within the narrow sphere of the domestic state.

A YOUTH of genius, at the age of six­teen or seventeen, who has been industri­ous at school, begins to require new ob­jects to excite emulation, and a new field for exertion. Altho his passions begin to gather strength, at this period, and new appetites begin to spring up, yet, if do­mestic education has been well conducted, the mind will be provided with a balance against them; and he may be safely trust­ed abroad in the higher walks of science.

INDUCED by sentiments like these, Mr. Bloomsgrove placed his son at the univer­sity at —, whither his vigilant eye fol­lowed him; and every prudent method was taken to guard him against the seduc­tions [Page 246] of vice, and to allure him to virtue. It is too commonly the case, that when parents have committed their children to the care of others, they relax in their own attention to them. Confiding entirely in the integrity and abilities of those, to whose care they are committed, they no longer watch over them. But those, to whom the care of youth is committed, seldom consider themselves under any other obligations than to teach the art or the science for which they apply, and to restrain them from vicious habits, no fur­ther than is necessary to the purpose of doing this. Between these two errors, the culture of the heart is neglected.

MR. Bloomsgrove determined that no effort should be wanting on his part, to complete the culture of his son's heart, and preserve his morals. He, therefore, assured his son that he should follow him to the university with a watchful eye, with a parent's heart; expressing great confidence in his prudence and attention to the objects before him. He enjoined [Page 247] it upon his son to write him frequently; and, at the end of every month, to render him an account of his studies. This method enabled Mr. Bloomsgrove to judge of his proficiency, while it gave him an opportunity of administering salutary advice.

THE proficiency, which Osander made at the university, was flattering to his pa­rents, as well as honorable to himself. But this pleasure was a little interrupted, some time after his entrance there, by an information that he was in danger of be­ing ensnared, and led astray by some dis­solute youth, as it appears from the fol­lowing letter. As the moderation, firm­ness, and confidence expressed in it, had the desired effect, I will send it you by the next post.

LETTER LXXXIII. From Mr. BLOOMSGROVE to his SON at the university.

THUS far, my dear son, have your parents watched over you from helpless infancy. They have conducted you, with all parental care and solicitude, to an age in which your mind is capable of manly improvements. To withdraw that solicitude and attention at the present, which is the most critical and important period of your life, would be no less cruel to you than unnatural in them. In your prudence, integrity, and virtue, we have all that confidence, to which your years can lay claim.

IN order that our confidence in you may not be shaken, it is necessary that we call your attention to the situation you are in, and to the circumstances which surround you. Consider, my son, that you now stand on the vibrating line be­tween childhood and majority. The passions acquire new strength; objects, [Page 249] suited to excite them, are addressed to every sense; open to your view, appear a variety of fascinating prospects. Even that frankness and generosity of temper, which is usually attendant on youth, and is amiable in itself, may become a snare.

THE vigilance and artfulness of design­ing profligates may improve that facility of mind as a means of seduction; but a prudent youth will ever be upon his guard against the dangers to which he is expos­ed, and never suffer the generosity of his temper to be the dupe of their crafty de­signs. The most fatal consequences would, probably, attend a false step at this period. Every thing in the future part of your life is depending on the pres­ent moment. Puerility should now yield to more solid judgment. Fancy should give place to consideration; and under­standing should supply the place of sensi­bility and impressions. But time alone can give experience: and during that progress, the want of experience can only be supplied by substituting that of a fa­ther.

[Page 250]YOUR parents have no other demand upon you, for their unremitting attention to your interest and happiness, than that you continue to make those improvements which will result in your own advantage, and to pursue a line of conduct which will lead to your reputation and happi­ness. On your own exertions you must rely for rendering the means of literary acquisitions effectual; and on your dili­gence, for proficiency in knowledge. Let the business of the university be your pleasure; and let amusements be pleas­ures, only as a necessary relaxation from study. Regard not the misapplied ridi­cule of those, whose want of learning and virtue excites envy at those who are pos­sessed of both; and whose love of pleasure leads them to prevent the mortifying im­provements of others, and, if possible, to seduce them to their own guilty practices. Under the mask of their gaiety and good humor lurks the malignant spirit of de­traction, which endeavors to render the industrious and the virtuous ridiculous.

[Page 251]RIDICULE is the weapon with which the fortress of virtue is usually assaulted; and if you yield to the assailants without a manly resistance, they will add insolence to triumph. You ought to display, at least, as much fortitude in your pursuits, as they do obstinacy in theirs. Your for­titude will soon overcome theirs; and you will effectually repel every attack by a dauntless spirit, and an unyielding per­severance.

ADORN your mind with useful and ele­gant literature: Establish yourself in the habits of virtue; and you will baffle all the devices of the crafty. You will then be able to pay an undisturbed attention to your studies; you will enjoy peace and tranquillity of mind; and you will lay the foundation for respectability of character, while those, who would gladly seduce you to sacrifice at the shrine of pleasure, will suffer merited reproach for their idleness, extravagance, and folly.

BE assured, my son, that we hear of your proficiency in learning with great [Page 252] pleasure; and, that nothing could so much wound our feelings, as to have your reputation marred by any conduct incon­sistent with the character of a young gen­tleman, walking in the noble paths of sci­ence. Aim not merely to avoid faults, but to cultivate the most amiable virtues. Do not content yourself with the acquisi­tion of knowledge only, but aim at the elegance of literature, and the refinements of taste: this has a connexion with many virtues. Elegance of taste, and an ac­quaintance with the fine arts, tend to ren­der the possessor both good and agreeable.

PLEASANT, indeed, are all the paths of science. Great is your opportunity for improvement; and I doubt not of your resolutions to make the best use of them, and to add the unspeakable blessing of a virtuous son to

LETTER LXXXIV.

OSANDER had too much discern­ment, not to see the object at which his father aimed; and too much sensibility, not to feel the force of the confidence which his father placed in him. It had the desired effect; and his father never had occasion afterwards to address him on the same subject, tho the correspondence continued till he completed his university education, which he did with great repu­tation, and much to the satisfaction of his friends.

AFTER receiving the honor of a degree, he continued to reside at the university, for the benefit of the library, and of the public lectures. He continued his stud­ies, particularly in history, chronology, ethics, rhetoric, the law of nature and nations, and politics, under the direction of Mr. Professor —, till an affair at home made his return necessary. What that was shall be related in another place.

[Page 254]ALTHO I have not taken a view of O­sander's progress thro the several stages of his education, yet I cannot omit to men­tion one or two things in his father's man­age [...]ent, with respect to him, which I think worthy of imitation. He furnished Osander with a memorandum book, in which he was directed to give credit for all the monies he received, and charge all his bills, which he was to preserve as vouchers; and make minutes of his loose expenses, noting the places, and for what they were incurred.

THO Osander's expenses could not be great, from his studious turn, yet keeping an exact account of the monies received, and how expended, had a good effect in accustoming him to method in his affairs, and to accuracy in accounts. It would not have been easy, if he had been dispos­ed, to have eluded his father's vigilant eye, or to have passed many impositions upon him. It could not be very difficult to judge of the probability of the account [Page 255] from the general character, and from the company he kept.

VOLATILE youth often become profli­gate for want of this check; and if such an one has a plentiful supply of money at college, without rendering to his father any account of his expenses, it is much but his expenses prove his ruin. His ambition to distinguish himself as a person of spirit and figure, will soon lead him to look upon the drudgery of college exer­cises as beneath him. His books and his instructors will be inimical to his enjoy­ments; and he will find more pleasure in his vices than in literary pursuits.

"A NOBLE Venetian, whose son wal­lowed in the plenty of his father's riches, finding his son's expenses grew very high and extravagant, ordered his cashier to let him have, for the future, no more money than what he would count when he receiv­ed it. This, one would think no great restraint to a young gentleman's expenses, who could freely have as much money as he could tell. But yet this, to one who [Page 256] was used to nothing but the pursuit of his pleasures, proved a great trouble, which at last ended in this sober and advanta­geous reflection: 'If it is so much pains to me, barely to count the money I spend, what labor and pains did it cost my ances­tors, not only to count, but to get it?' This rational thought, suggested by the little pains imposed upon him, wrought so effectually upon his mind, that it made him, from that time forward, prove a good husband."

BESIDES the advantage which it would have on a young gentleman's economy, to have the state of his expenses always before him, this plan of keeping his ac­counts, and being brought to frequent set­tlements with his father, lays a founda­tion for system and method in his af­fairs; the habits of which are of the ut­most consequence, both to interest and morals, thro the whole course of life.

LETTER LXXXV.

THE progress of learning might be greatly accelerated by a regular system in the pursuit of it. Instructors of youth might afford great assistance to their pu­pils, by directing them to a proper arrange­ment of studies, to books proper to be read on each subject or science to be pursued, to a suitable proportion of time to be allotted to each branch. Much time is lost by a confusion of studies, and by a promiscu­ous manner of reading books.

BUT my object is to consider the ad­vantages of system on a larger scale, which befits the age and employments of young Mr. Bloomsgrove, who is soon to appear on the great theatre of the world. From the systematic manner in which he has been trained, we may naturally suppose that system and order will attend all his affairs. He who does not meet every duty in its own place, and assign it its proper rank, cannot expect to preserve [Page 258] the natural order and connexion of things, or form any consistency of character.

A RIGHT division of time is as necessary as order in the arrangement and discharge of the duties of our respective depart­ments. Nothing is performed right, where nothing is performed in its proper time and place. Confusion must attend the life of such a man. But, by a prudent management of his affairs, and an orderly arrangement of time, a man may live more in a few years than others do in many. He arrests every flying hour: He loses no time by confusion in his affairs; but, using it with economy, he accumulates a stock, to which the indolent waster of time must be forever a stranger.

METHOD in every part of conduct is a matter which deserves the particular at­tention of young people; and the follow­ing maxims should be deeply fixed in their minds.

"PROVIDE what is necessary, before you indulge in what is superfluous."

[Page 259]"STUDY to do justice to all, with whom you deal, before you affect the praise of liberality."

THE want of economy has been a fruit­ful source of distress and misery: Fami­lies, once flourishing, have been reduced to ruin: the melancholy widow, the help­less orphan, have been thrown out friend­less upon the world. To ease and afflu­ence have succeeded the pinching hand of poverty, occasioned by an ill timed piece of expense, which brought confu­sion on their affairs.

WHEN young men live beyond their means, they tread on enchanted ground; their path is strowed with poisonous flowers; perplexity and danger must at­tend their progress. It is as incompati­ble with industry as it is with prudence. Their passions gather strength with the prodigal waste of substance. The en­chantments of habit become invincible; and, with their eyes open, they plunge themselves into the gulf before them, tho often admonished by the fa [...] of others.

[Page 260]AN old military gentleman, who was as much distinguished for his morals as for his courage, told a friend, "that his fa­ther, who was a sensible man, but ex­tremely devout, seeing that he was much inclined to a certain vice, spared no pains to curb this propensity; but finding, notwithstanding all his care, that his son still persisted in his vices, he carried him to an hospital established for the cure of a certain vile disease; and without any previous intimation of his design, led him into a gallery full of those unhappy wretches, who were severely expiating the folly which had brought them thither. At this hideous spectacle, so offensive to all the senses, the young man grew sick. 'Go thou wretched debauchee, said the father, with a significant look and em­phasis, follow thy loose inclinations; it will not be long before thou wilt think thyself happy in being admitted into this place. Or, perhaps, a victim to the most infamous sufferings, thou wilt compel thy father to thank God for thy death.' [Page 261] These few words, joined to the affecting scene before him, made an impression up­on the young man, which time could never efface. Condemned, by his pro­fession, to spend his youth in garrisons, he chose rather to bear the raillery of his companions than imitate their vices."

LET parents and tutors place less con­fidence in words than in a proper choice of time, place, and circumstances; let examples be their lectures, and they need not doubt of a good effect.

LETTER LXXXVI.

FATAL, indeed, are the effects of prodigality, or the neglect of method in living! But he who forms his conduct upon his circumstances, and discharges the obligations▪ he owes to society, will neither waste his substance by prodigal­ity, nor destroy his virtue by extravagant pleasures. But, preserving the liberty and independence of his own mind, he [Page 262] will be able always to act his part with fortitude as a man, and with fidelity as a Christian.

"THE youth, who has acquired a relish for the pleasures of devotion, yields his heart to those pleasures. He views, at a distance, the active life upon which he has entered, and makes a true estimate of wealth, fame, and preeminence. He at­tends to his character as an accountable being, and thi [...]s of the time when suc­cess or disappointment will figure less, than the steps by which they arrived; when the pleasure of success will be in­creased by the honorable means of obtain­ing it, and the pain of disappointment lessened, because nothing dishonorable was done to avert it."

THE regulation of amusements is a mat­ter of great consequence for young people to attend to, both as to time and place. Parents and others of rigid virtue, having passed the season of youthful pleasures, are too apt to look with indignant eye upon all those recreations by which human [Page 263] cares are relieved, and the union of soci­ety cemented. By thus passing an indis­criminate censure on all amusements, they lose all that influence over youth, which age, rendered respectable by virtue, al­ways possesses.

MR. Bloomsgrove, therefore, did not aim at restraining his children from all amusements, but at assisting them in the regulation of amusements, so as not to in­terfere with the higher duties of life. In countries full of inhabitants and of wealth, pleasure becomes the business of many. But in a country just rising into national existence, industry must consti­tute [...]ts wealth, and business must form its pleasures. When Virgil sung, in capti­vating strains, the peaceful occupations and affecting pleasures of rural life, the Romans had lost all taste of them, and sought the means of luxury and dissipa­tion, by oppressing or plundering prov­inces. Neglecting the exercise of their talents in useful duties, and seeking splen­did pleasures, by successful depredations [Page 264] on their more wealthy neighbors, they ruined the commonwealth. It would not require a spirit of prophecy to predict the fate of these states, if a love of pleasure should so far prevail, as to root out in­dustry, or to render it disreputable. Money constitutes the sinews of war; numbers, the strength of a country; and industry, its wealth. But a spirit of dissi­pation destroys the latter, relaxes the other, and cuts off the sinews of the former.

HOW necessary to regard time, season; and measure in pleasures and amusements! Strong and eager is the propensity to these; and great vigilance is requisite to guard against their delusive influence. He, whose passions are in a continual ferment, cannot look thro the sober eye of reason, nor hear its milder voice thro the buzz of tumultuary pleasures. Whereas he, who mingles pleasures in a temperate succes­sion with the higher business of life, preserves the mastery of himself, and is able to make a just distribution of his time [Page 265] between the employments and the amuse­ments of life; between the concerns of the present, and a proper regard to the interests of the future world. Accustom­ed to contemplate nobler objects, and to taste more rational enjoyments, young Mr. Bloomsgrove meets amusements with a manly indifference; and, by the habits of self command, is guarded against excess, and prepared for every occurrence.

A YOUNG gentleman, who has no sys­tem of conduct, with reference to associat­ing with others, is in danger of being en­snared by the time, place or manner of social enjoyments. If he suffers himself to be led into places consecrated to the in­fernal demon of debauchery, he soon finds himself on enchanted ground. The example of others, the ardor of his own passions, excited by the fascinating influ­ence of vicious indulgencies, give him a license he never before felt. All moral restraints, being bantered and ridiculed, soon appear to him as the idle dreams of superstition. This barrier broken down, [Page 266] he loses his innocence, and with that his peace of mind.

BESIDES the character of associates, re­gard should be had to time and season for social pleasures. Confusion and ruin must attend the affairs of that man, who devotes those hours to company, in which his business calls his attention. Compa­ny, business, and reading or study, should succeed each other at proper intervals. These should be so conducted, as not to interfere with the duties of life. He, who can find no enjoyment in discharging the duties of life, will not long be happy. To a vacant mind, company may afford a temporary relief; but he will be so much the more oppressed and languid, when forced to return to himself. By a due mixture of public and private life, or of society and business, young Mr. Blooms­grove kept free from the snares of both, and enjoyed each to much greater perfec­tion.

THE system by which he directed all his actions, extended to the most minute [Page 267] part of his transactions in life: even the little punctilios of civility were invariably observed by him. He, who is negligent and careless in the smaller parts of his con­duct, will be in the utmost danger of a growing remissness in higher duties of life. Disorder will imperceptibly grow upon his affairs. Inattention towards others, will generate indifference to their happiness; and from actions, in them­selves of little worth, will proceed habits of criminal remissness. As a little spark kindles a great fire, so the inconsiderable beginnings of inattention to the rules of civility, which are generally agreed upon as proper marks of respect to human na­ture, affection to individuals, or of esteem and respect for particular characters, have been the occasion of destroying friendships and converting them into enmity.

LETTER LXXXVII.

THE affairs of Mr. Bloomsgrove's nephew made it necessary for him to go, and take possession of his patrimonial es­tate in a neighboring county, where he was to settle. This circumstance induced Mr. Bloomsgrove to call his son home, sooner than he had intended; that he might apply some of the knowledge which he had acquired, in the oversight of his business, in which his nephew had hither­to been his assistant.

NOR was the nephew the only member of which this happy family was soon to be deprived. This young gentleman had resided too long in a family, where do­mestic order and harmony prevailed, to be unacquainted with the advantages of hab­its acquired there; nor was he less dis­cerning as to the merit and amiableness of Fanny This attachment was long known to he [...], and was answered by a correspond­ing sympathy. As soon, therefore, as he found himself in a situation to enter upon [Page 269] the domestic state, he returned, and was united in marriage to this object of his sin­cere affections.

THE consent of her patrons evinced their affection to him; while the reluc­tance, with which they parted with Fan­ny, shewed the strength of their regard for her. After passing two weeks in re­ceiving the attentions of her numerous friends and acquaintance, the day of their departure arrived. You can better con­ceive, than I describe, the affecting scene between Fanny and Rozella. They hung on each others' necks; wept; and, with inarticulate voice, said—adieu—adieu!

FANNY received the parting blessing of her patrons with feelings of gratitude too big for utterance, and which she could on­ly testify by expressive silence. Even the servants followed her to the gate, bathed in tears; and, while Mr. and Mrs. Bloomsgrove bestowed on them their last benediction (for Rozella had retired to her room) and sent forward their best benedictions to the place of their future [Page 270] residence, the servants thanked her a thous­and a thousand times for all her goodness to them.

YOUNG Mr. Bloomsgrove accompanied them to their new home, where they were received with many expressions of joy by their friends and neighbors. After pass­ing a few days with them, he embraced his cousins in a most affectionate manner, and returned home, with accounts of their situation and prospects, much to the sat­isfaction of the family.

LETTER LXXXVIII.

TO furnish you with a complete portrait of young Mr. Bloomsgrove, I must call in the aid of your own imagina­tion. He is tall, straight, and well pro­portioned; has a piercing black eye, a florid complexion, with an open, placid, and manly countenance, indicating good sense, magnanimity, and benevolence: Every thing within corresponds to per­sonal [Page 271] appearance. To an enlightened understanding, he unites a liberal mind. To good sense, he unites good nature; to magnanimity, a compassionate heart; to sobriety, cheerfulness; and to strict vir­tue, elegant accomplishments, and the most graceful manners. Affable and courteous towards all, he was held in high estimation by all who knew him.

FOR his intimates, he chose the wise and virtuous; having no relish for com­pany of an opposite character. Encour­aged by his father's attention to his young friends, (for they were always received by him with an open hearted cheerfulness) he enjoyed their company, without seeking it at places of public resort. He was not destitute of all relish for amusements; but he enjoyed much greater pleasure in the society of a circle of sentimental ladies, and with some literary friends, than in the usual amusements of young people.

HAVING been trained to diligence and application, the habits of industry were so fixed that he became a great economist of [Page 272] his time. His taste for agriculture and the mechanic arts, was a source of pleas­ure and amusement, as well as of exer­cise, to him. He found an agreeable ex­ercise in the use of the mechanical tools which he procured for that purpose. He not only gained a theoretical acquaint­ance with the arts, but became a proficient in the practice of some of the most useful arts. "Czar Peter worked as a common ship carpenter in the yard, and served as a drummer in his own troops." Mr. Bloomsgrove did not think it beneath his son to be acquainted with the use of tools, or to spend some time with the workmen, as well for improvement as for exercise.

IT is impossible to say what revolutions of fortune may take place; and what ad­vantage this acquaintance with secular af­fairs may be to him in future. Besides the contingencies of life, which may make such knowledge necessary, it will render him less dependent on others, and more able to help himself; and it gave him an opportunity of contracting an acquaint­ance [Page 273] with a class of people, by far the most numerous in all communities: and by these means he gained a more perfect knowledge of human nature, than is possi­ble for those who keep themselves aloof from them.

WHAT can be more ridiculous than the airs which some young gentlemen put on towards those who have been trained up in a different—a supposed humbler— walk in life from themselves? A youth educated behind a counter, plumes himself on his own importance, and often looks down, with disdain, upon the more inge­nious and promising youth who has been trained at the work bench. Vain youth! knowest thou not that the king is support­ed by the labor of the husbandman; and that thou art indebted to the mechanic's art and industry for every thing that is convenient, ornamental, or splendid in life?

WHILE young Mr. Bloomsgrove ren­dered himself more extensively useful, by attending to the theory of agriculture and [Page 274] mechanic arts, and by gaining some prac­tical knowledge of those occupations, he endeared himself to the people who fol­lowed them, and daily grew in the esteem of all about him. It was particularly happy that his love for literary pursuits had not deprived him of a taste for secu­lar employments; the period being now arrived, in which he is to be placed in a situation, to exercise his talents both in his secular occupations and learned pro­fession.

LETTER LXXXIX.

IN carrying on an occupation or ex­ercising a profession, much is depending on the place chosen for the purpose, and on the manner of entering upon the busi­ness of life. A father's aid and counsel can never be better applied than in this critical and important transaction. Young Mr. Bloomsgrove, having established him­self under the patronage of the best of [Page 275] fathers, began to think of assuming the do­mestic state. But in a transaction, on which the happiness of life so much de­pended, he determined to profit by the wisdom and experience of his father.

TAUGHT, from childhood, to revere his father's judgment, he listened attentively to all he said on the subject of choosing a companion for life. Mr. Bloomsgrove does not object to early marriages; but advises that, when a young man is settled in business, and has the means of support­ing a family, with the exertions of indus­try, he should look out for a suitable com­panion. Many and great are the advan­tages of early marriages in young coun­tries.

I CAN promise you, my son, said Mr. Bloomsgrove, upon the general experience of all wise and prudent men, that, if you make a judicious choice, you will not have reason to repent the step you take; but every thing is depending on that choice. In placing your affections upon a lady, to be the partner of your days, employ your [Page 276] reason and judgment, as well as your fancy. Suffer not yourself to be taken by surprise, but preserve the mastery of your affections.

IF you are not well upon your guard, you will fall a prey to beauty, or some other external qualification, which will be of little consequence in the matrimonial state. Beauty is a dangerous property, as it tends to corrupt the mind; and it soon loses its influence. But good sense and sweetness of temper, united to an a­greeable figure and engaging manners, are durable qualities; and never lose their in­fluence, like beauty. Consider that the happiness of the married state does not depend on fortune, birth, or beauty; nor on any external qualification, separate from the properties of the mind. The management of domestic affairs and the education of a family, are duties of an in­dispensable nature in a married woman. But as the cheerful discharge of these du­ties, and the happiness thence resulting, depend upon a certain degree of corres­pondence [Page 277] of character and circumstances in the parties, so, in forming this connex­ion, regard should be had to them.

IN order to ensure permanent affection and harmony, there should be such a gen­eral similarity of age, natural temper, ed­ucation, external accomplishments, and religious sentiments, as that the difference in them, may leave no impediments in the way of the tenderest affection and most perfect harmony.

A YOUNG man, who has profited by in­structions like these, will not be captivat­ed by a pretty face, a sprightly air, or any external accomplishment. "The picture of a good wife is fixed in his mind; and he compares with it every young woman he sees:—'She is pretty, but has she good sense? She has sense, but is she well tem­pered? She dances elegantly, or sings with expression; but is she not vain of such trifles?"

MR. Bloomsgrove did not wish to con­trol his son with respect to the particular object; but to point out the character [Page 278] suitable for him. He described the fam­ily, without pointing to any particular one, in which he would most probably find such an one. "A family where [...]he parents and children live in perfect har­mony, and are fond of one another." A female taken from such a family, seldom fails to make the married state happy.

LETTER XC.

YOU must have anticipated al­ready, my dear sir, every thing that I can say of the young lady to whom young Mr. Bloomsgrove paid his addresses. I need only to observe, therefore, that Au­gusta, to whom he was united in marriage in the twenty fifth year of his age, was the daughter of respectable parents, who had paid great attention to her education. She was more distinguished by her good sense than by her beauty, tho equalled by few in personal figure. Mild and gentle in her temper, with a heart sensible to the [Page 279] miseries of others, and always ready to re­lieve them, she was engaging in her man­ners. The pleasing, as well as more ele­vated qualities, were so happily blended in her composition as to make her, at once, tender, sprightly, and agreeable, and to render her worthy of so amiable and excellent an husband.^*

IN a relation, of all others the most tender and endearing, they observed a line of conduct which prevented all the ill effects of discordant passions. If, at any time, an untoward accident occasion­ed a sally of his passions, he quickly re­pressed them; and, by renewed expres­sions of tenderness, added new strength to a friendship which time itself could never dissolve. On the other hand, the native delicacy of her sex led her to treat her husband with that kind respect which was due to his character: a tribute prompted by nature, not exacted on his part!

[Page 280]VIEWING him thro the flattering, but laudable medium of conjugal partiality, his virtues always magnified in her affec­tionate eye, and his imperfections receded from her view. By yielding to his will, she gained an ascendency over him, which she securely enjoyed, without seeming to possess it. In her gentle breast, esteem and affection were so blended, and in her deportment towards him, mildness and condescension were so combined with dig­nity, as to strike every observer as the soft impulse of nature, rather than the re­sult of studied prudence. This never failed to procure, in return, the tribute of admiration and esteem, as well as of affec­tion and delight.

ENDUED by nature with an excellent disposition, cherished by habitual gentle­ness of manners, with great natural tal­ents, improved by education and expe­rience, with a laudable and well directed ambition, seconded by respectable con­nexions, he soon rose to distinguished places in the state. Qualified for the sta­tions [Page 281] he filled, he drew the attention and confidence of all about him. He was respected by the world, beloved by his friends, and revered by the church of God.

LETTER XCI.

FRIENDSHIP is a principal source of the pleasures of life. It is founded in the sociability of our nature, and consists in a reciprocity of affections, which have been accustomed to sacrifice immediate gratification to the hope or enjoyment of high participated pleasures. These pleas­ures are the most highly flavored of any enjoyments in life; and without them all others are tasteless. If we pursue pleas­ure, we cannot enjoy it alone. Without a friend, to whom we may communicate with freedom, our knowledge would afford no pleasure; wealth would bestow no happiness, and every situation would be joyless. In prosperity, a friend multiplies [Page 282] our joys; in adversity, he divides, and, by dividing, lessens our sorrows. Friend­ship, by administering the best▪ and the purest satisfaction, alleviates our condi­tion under disappointment, and renders all our miseries supportable.

WHEN this attachment is founded on truth, honor, and goodness, it contributes not only to present satisfaction, but to real and permanent happiness. It is be­yond the reach of accidents. In the ope­ration of such affections, a competition of interest will not interrupt the general happiness. Neither age, nor absence,^* nor death,^† can destroy it; but so long [Page 283] as we retain any consciousness or remem­brance of its object, its pleasures will be enjoyed.

THOSE, who ridicule the idea of sacri­ficing first sensations to reflected pleas­ures, and all attempts to render the force of friendship superior to the direct opera­tions of interest, can have no idea, either of the reality, or of the pleasures of friend­ship. "History affords attested instances of persons, who have sacrificed property, views of interest, prospects of honor, and even their lives, to the affections of this union. In early youth, while the heart is uninjured by the vicious customs of so­cieties, examples of the kind, have made us glow with the desire of imitation."

IN the direction of youth, therefore, the benevolent affections should be cher­ished, in order to give a proper expansion [Page 284] to self love. Selfishness is inconsistent with the noble and generous affections of friendship. Truth, honor, integrity, and sincerity, are essential ingredients in friend­ship; and to be deficient in these, is to want capacity for this connexion. Friend­ships, formed at random, and regulated by interest or convenience, seldom afford a permanent connexion. Hence complaints of ingratitude and inconstancy frequent­ly arise. Of what importance, then, is a proper and judicious choice of friends? What an acquisition, a real friend! This exhibits the art of distinguishing the char­acters, by which that choice may be hap­pily made, as an important object in the education of youth. Especially, is it a lesson of great importance in a state of preparation for the duties of conjugal af­fection. When the conjugal relation is formed, upon the principles of true friend­ship and real love, no adverse circum­stances can ever destroy the attachment; nor any temptations lead to a violation of the sacred bonds. The female will cheer­fully [Page 285] follow the fortun [...] and submit to the conditions of her husband, while his affection will remain the fame in every change of condition.

THE following story, related in a Vien­na paper of July, 1788, which is said to have taken place in the camp before Bel­grade, affords a striking specimen of the strength of such friendships.

"ACHMET Marowa was the son of an eminent magistrate of that city, with great merit and fine accomplishments. He had long addressed Fatima, the only daughter of Hassan Buglo, a Bashaw in the armies of the Porte, and on the morning of the day on which the siege of Belgrade com­menced, led, exulting to the altar of Alla, one of the loveliest women of the empire. Most of the distinguished families of the place, on the approach of the imperial troops, retired to Barrowza, and other places further down the Danube; but the nuptials of Achmet and Fatima, and the rapid movement of our forces, prevented that, otherwise fortunate pair, from tak­ing [Page 286] shelter in the interior country till the investment of the city was complete.

"ON the night of the fourth of June, however, Achmet determined at all haz­ards to convey his bride from the immi­nent perils to which she would be exposed during a siege that threatened scenes of carnage. He had her dressed as a young man of fashion; and putting himself in the habit of a slave, left the city at twelve o'clock at night, hoping to avoid our guards, and to reach a place of safety be­fore the return of day. Unhappily for the wanderers, they had scarce begun their midnight meander, when loud peals of thunder appalled the heart of the dis­tressed Fatima; torrents of rain succeed­ed, the darkness increased, the fugitives wandered about bewildered and forlorn, till, upon the gleam of day, they found themselves surrounded by a patrolling party of Hungarian Hussars, and were hurried to the main guard.

"THE Prince of Cobourg having notice given him immediately, that a youth of [Page 287] apparent distinction, attended by a slave, was taken in his camp, ordered them to be kept apart; and if, on examination, any circumstance occurred that should mark them as spies, that their execution should take place instantly. To the interroga­tions that were put to Fatima, she replied that she was the son of a merchant of Bel­grade, and attended by a poor domestic of her father, and only wished to join her family at a village at about ten leagues distant. She, however, was soon given to understand, that the manner of their being taken precluded all apologies from having the effect she wished; and that the rigid usages of war allowed her but half an hour to live. She received this dreadful information without manifesting any perturbation, and only begged that her slave might be permitted to carry her friends a few remembrances that she particularized.

"WHILE she was closing this request, she beheld the beloved Achmet, surround­ed by armed men, passing the door of the [Page 288] tent she was in. As she had not doubted of his safety, from the servility of his ap­pearance, she inquired in an agony of agitation what was to be his fate? and was answered—'immediate death.' At the word DEATH she shrieked out, and fell from her seat in convulsions. The officers around her flew to her assistance; and, to give her free respiration, unbut­toned her waistcoat; when, to their a­mazement, they found their unhappy prisoner a lady.

"THE execution of Achmet was sus­pended, until the Prince of Cobourg could be informed of these particulars. The generous chieftain examined each of them apart, and received such informa­tion, as convinced him that they were not the insidious agents he had suspected. The heroic Fatima and her husband were furnished with habits befitting their real situations, and before the close of the day, safely escorted to the village whither their despairing friends had retired."

LETTER XCII.

THE education of a daughter can­not be considered as at an end, so long as she continues in a single state. Instruc­tions preparatory to marriage have been considered, by writers on education, as of the greatest consequence in bringing child­ren forward into life.

THE fondness, which mothers have sometimes discovered, for precipitating their daughters' appearance on the pub­lic theatre, has been the source of many mortifications. Unacquainted with the world, young and volatile, they some­times fall a prey to dishonorable preten­sions; and such is the delicacy of the fe­male character, that the foul breath of suspicion may stain it, but all the streams that flow can never restore its former lustre: or, incapable of making a prudent choice, they bestow themselves on an un­worthy object, and owe a whole life of inquietude and sorrow to a single rash and indiscreet action. Here a prudent [Page 290] mother will keep a vigilant eye, and, by her maternal advice, cautiously adminis­tered, will supply the want of a daugh­ter's experience by her own.

"MOTHERS and nurses, says Lord Kaimes, are continually talking of mar­riage to their female pupils, long before it is suggested to them by nature; and it is always a great estate, a fine coat, or a gay equipage that is promised. Such objects impressed on the mind of a child, natur­ally biass her to a wrong choice, when she grows up." But Mrs. Bloomsgrove has never spoken to her daughter upon that subject, till since she has arrived at mature age; and, indeed, the habits of discretion have become so fixed, by her manage­ment with her from childhood, as to su­persede the necessity of much instruction on the subject at this period. The whole of her education has been preparatory to the duties, connexions, and changes of life.

BUT as her age, and the attentions which she now receives from many young [Page 291] gentlemen, indicate the propriety of some preparatory instruction, Mrs. Bloomsgrove lets no favorable opportunity slip, of dropping such hints, as she thinks may be useful. Her main object is, without giv­ing any direct instructions, to prepossess the mind of Rozella in favor of the char­acter, rather than the appearance of a man. She represents the happiness of the married state, as depending more on the good temper, sobriety, and industry of an husband, than on any particular cir­cumstances of interest, or outward appear­ance; that men of good morals are the only true admirers of females; that, tho they may not have all the fulsome jargon of gallantry, yet that their assiduities are more sincere and more tender.

THAT permanent affection, which lays the only sure foundation of connubial bliss, is so far from being bought or sold, that money frequently destroys it. Never consider, my dear, said Mrs. Bloomsgrove to her daughter, what the estate is valued at, but attend to the character of the per­son; [Page 292] and the only sure way of judging of a man's character, is from the figure he makes among his own sex. The presump­tion is, that men are best able to judge of one anothers merits. Accustomed to less delicacy and reserve than the female sex, a man's character may be very precisely ascertained from his male associates; es­pecially his temper and disposition, upon which the happiness of the married state depends much more than on any outward circumstance.

MUTUAL affection is essential to recip­rocal enjoyment; but where the moral pleasures of love do not exist, what securi­ty can either have, that a virtuous attach­ment, which will warrant an entire confi­dence, exists between them? The person may remain the fame, but if the passion decays, it is no longer viewed in the same light. The veil of delusion falls off, and love takes its flight. In order to guard her daughter against the danger of making a rash choice, she converses on marriage as an hazardous step to a female, because an [Page 293] error in choosing an husband admits of no remedy. Every step towards that should be taken with caution.

THE great object of female education, thro the whole course of it, should be to qualify females for the important station they are to hold in domestic society, and to make them useful and agreeable compan­ions in the matrimonial state. Domestic concerns are the province of the wife; and nature prompts young women to qual­ify themselves for behaving well in that station: and the influence of the female character over the manners of men, both before and after marriage, exhibits female education in a point of light extremely interesting.^*

LETTER XCIII.

IT is now time, my dear sir, to col­lect the detached traits of female excel­lence, which, like the scattered rays of the fair morning that tinge the mountain tops with their golden hue, when drawn to a point, will afford a beautiful assemblage of colors. I shall only aim at collecting the principal features of Rozella's charac­ter, and will present you with her portrait, as drawn by the hand of nature and of ed­ucation.

[Page 295]IN the first rank of her virtues, I shall place that respectful attention with which she treats her parents. Often does the tear of maternal affection start from Mrs. Bloomsgrove's eye, at beholding the assi­duity and respect with which her daugh­ter endeavors to reward a mother's care. The love of virtue is Rozella's ruling passion. She loves it, not only on ac­count of its native excellence, and of its being the only sure road to happiness; but on account of its being dear to her respectable father and tender mother. Her sensibility is too great for an undis­turbed [Page 296] enjoyment; but is such as to af­ford the most exquisite pleasure in reliev­ing the distressed. "We sometimes see instances of young ladies, who weep away a whole forenoon, over the criminal sor­rows of a fictitious Charlotte or Werter, turning, with disdain, at two o'clock, from the fight of a beggar, who solicits in hum­ble accents or signs, a small portion only of the crumbs which fall from their fa­ther's tables." But Rozella never suf­fered any one to go unrelieved, to whom she could afford relief.

ROZELLA is possessed of superior un­derstanding; but she endeavors to con­ceal that superiority with as much care, as many take to display the superiority they have not. She conforms to the company she is in; and never offends any by a display of talents greatly above theirs. She is cheerful with the merry, serious with the grave, and silent with the absurd. To good nature she unites good breeding: is therefore, polite without ceremony, and obliging without ostenta­tion. [Page 297] Rozella never talks of her own sex but to express the good she knows of them; and never suffers slander or detraction to escape from her lips. She experiences less pain, from the wrong she receives, than from that which she does.

ROZELLA prepares for managing a fam­ily of her own, by assisting her mother in the care of hers. She is well acquainted with cookery, and with the price and qual­ity of provisions; and she can do the honors of the table with dignity and pro­priety. While she continued the delight­ful companion of her mother, she reigned in the hearts of all the servants, to whom she always spoke in the kindest manner; received the benedictions of the poor, and the merited applause of all who knew her.

THE personal charms of Rozella allure many young gentlemen to seek her com­pany. She has that sweetness of counte­nance, which interests without dazzling beholders. Her sprightly and sentimental conversation (for she never, of choice, [Page 298] consumed her time over an unmeaning card table) renders her a most agreeable and entertaining companion, especially to her intimate acquaintance; for, in pres­ence of strangers, a modest reserve, blend­ed with that native frankness which [...]nders her easy and graceful, casts a transparent veil over her mental accomplishments, which, while it seems to conceal, displays them to the best advantage.

AND while Rozella's personal qualities, graceful manners, and sentimental con­versation, attract and please the gentle­men, her virtues teach them to respect her character. The vicious and profane are awed by her white robed innocence, and never profane its purity in her pres­ence. Great is her influence over the mora's of those who have the honor of as­sociating with her. Her empire is at­tendant on her virtues; her gentleness and modesty confirm the sway. In her company, the rudest and most insensible of men will abate their ferocity, and will affect more engaging manners. Her [Page 299] beauty seems but a proper and decent lodging for her mind; it never makes her unmindful of her sex nor of her age. Her modest diffidence interests every one in her favor, and she draws that respect and attention to herself which she pays to the company.

YOU will naturally conclude, my dear sir, that a young lady, possessed of so many accomplishments, did not remain long up­on the stage without offers of marriage. The deep rooted habits of education had taught her to move with caution, and never to decide on an important matter, till her judgment had gained an ascend­ency over her fancy. She was not to be deluded by the assiduities of fulsome gal­lantry, by the pageantry of wealth, nor by the false lustre of beauty, elegance, or any external accomplishments. Nor could any of her admirers gain a favorable reception, till the young Augustus, son of an eminent planter, made an offer of him­self in marriage.

[Page 300]THE offer of so elegant a person, with a mind uncorrupted by vice, enlightened by extensive science, dignified by the most amiable virtues, and embellished by grace­ful manners, was not to be declined. To him she listened with a pleasure before unexperienced: and, with the perfect ap­probation of her parents, her friends, and her own heart, the happy Augustus called the lovely, the excellent, the accomplished Rozella HIS, in the twenty second year of her age.