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FRONTISPIECE
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THE MENTAL FLOWER-GARDEN, OR INSTRUCTIVE AND ENTERTAINING COMPANION FOR THE FAIR-SEX.

CONTAINING, A VARIETY of elegant poetical pieces—Pleasing and Admonitory Letters—Cards of Compliment—De­votional Poems—Dialogues—Writing-pieces—En­glish Grammar in Verse; and some Sketches of Female Biography:

To which is added, a short but Sure Guide to an ac­curate Pronunciation (which may save some young Ladies a blush in company.)

By D. FRASER, Teacher in New-York; Author of the Young Gentleman and Lady's Assistant, Columbian Monitor, Select Biography, &c.

To smooth the manners, to improve the heart,
Those flow'rs are cull'd from nature and from art;
With candour view the humble Gleaner's care,
Whose work may prove a blessing to the FAIR.

[COPY-RIGHT SECURED]

DANBURY: PRINTED BY DOUGLAS & NICHOLS. M, DCCC.

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DEDICATION.

TO the judicious Ladies, in these United States, whose honourable employment it is to lead the virtuous daughters of Columbia, to honour, to useful­ness and to happiness.

To you, Ladies, is committed an important trust, and it is with pleasure that the parents and guardians of the fair sex, view the happy emulation that many of you raise in the br [...]asts of your amiable pupils, to the love of virtue, useful and ornamental knowledge.

The favourable reception of my Young Gentleman and Lady's Assistant, and Columbian Monitor, by some of you, and your receiving them into your Schools, merits my warmest acknowledgments.

Permit me now, Ladies, to present for your candid perusal and patronage, the "MENTAL FLOWER-GARDEN," which, I trust, from its great variety, will excite the curiosity of young readers, and reward their application by its usefulness:—My principal aim in compiling this work, was, to induce young Ladies to read—and by strewing flowers in the paths of amuse­ment, to lead them to an early acquaintance with the important principles of virtue, prudence and politeness.

Proceed, worthy Ladies, in the faithful discharge of the arduous duties of your profession! That you may continue to merit and receive the approbation of an enlightened and liberal Public, that you may long continue to add to your stock of useful knowledge,— dividing your time between the acquisition and com­munication of wisdom—and raise up for the next age many models of female prudence, and patterns of fe­male piety, among the fair daughters of Columbia, is the sincere wi [...]h of one who is with due respect, La­dies, your most obedient, humble Servant,

D. FRASER.
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PREFACE.

IT will be readily acknowledged, that the minds of youth are greatly attracted by novelty and variety; and that the most judicious Collections, however entertaining they may be at first, become less pleasing by being frequent­ly perused.

I have, for a number of ye [...]rs, taken considerable pains to collect▪ a variety of delightful and useful materials for this work. Great care has been token, to avoid the inser­tion of such pieces as have appeared in former compilations for the use of Schools.

That a collection of this kind, appropriated solely to the benefit and amusement of the fair sex, would be exceeding­ly useful to Schools, has been frequently suggested by a number of literary friends, and likewise by several judi­cious females who conduct the education of young Ladies.

Having been about twenty years engaged in the profes­sion of a Teacher, I have had many opportunities of noti­cing the dispositions of children; they naturally love read­ing, but cannot relish dry or profound subjects, however excellent in their kind;—they want something to delight the fancy, and fix their volatility: How far this Collec­tion is calculated to answer these ends, is left to a discern­ing Public to decide.

It may be proper to observe here, that some alterations have been made in a number of the following pieces, with a view of adapting them to the present undertaking; but as the original sentiments are still retained, I trust, the Authors, from whom they are selected, will readily par­don this necessary freedom.

Having neglected to distinguish the different pieces in this work, at the time they were selected, with the names of the respective Authors,—as I then designed them only for the use of the young Ladies under my care,—I regret that it is not now practicable wholly to remedy the omission.

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INTRODUCTORY HINTS, RELATIVE TO POETRY AND THE MUSES.

A POEM is a complete and finished piece of poetry:—The sort of verses that are chiefly used in our poetry, are those of t [...], eight and seven syllables.

There are various kinds of poetry in use; the most considerable are—

1. Pastoral, that describes a shepherd's life, or that of rural nymphs and swains.

2. Elegy, is a mournful poem, or funeral song.

3. Lyric poetry, is generally used in the composition of odes and songs.

4. Pindaric, is a sort of poetry which consists of loose and free numbers, and unequal measure.

5. Satire, is a free, jocose, witty and sharp poem, severely inveighing against vice and all corrupt man­ners and persons.

6. Comedy, is an agreeable imitation of the actions, humours and customs of common life.

7. Tragedy, in which the calamities of illustrious persons are represented, and their actions acted over again.

8. Epic or Heroic Poem, is a poetical narrative of some illustrious and important actions of the hero cel­ebrated in the poem.

9. Epigram, is an inferior kind of poem, whose pe­culiar character is brevity, beauty, and a sharp turn of wit at the end.

OF THE MUSES.

The Muses had several names given them by the ancient poets, according to the different places where they dwelt, Sometimes they were called Pierides, on [Page] account of the forest Pieris in Macedonia, where they were said to be born; sometimes Heliconi [...]des, from Mount Helicon, which was near their beloved PAR­NASSUS; and sometimes by other names, according to the pleasure of the Mythologists, in their fabulou [...] accounts of the Heathen Deities: They were called the daughters of Jupiter and Mnemosyne.

Hesiod named them, Calliope, Clio, Erato, Thalia▪ M [...]pomene, Terpsichore, Euterpe, Poly [...]ymnia, & Urania. 1. Calliope, is the goddess of heroic poetry: 2. C [...]io, of history: 3. Erato, of amorous poetry: 4. Thalia, of comedy: 5. Melpomene, of tragedy: 6. Terpsichore, of [...]ance: 7. Poly [...]ymnia, of the ode: 8. Euterpe, of mu­sic and musical instruments:—and 9. Urania of astro­nomy.

They are represented by the poets—as very young, v [...]ry handsome, and adorned with garlands of flowers.

The Muses were winged, to shew the [...] of good wilts, and the quickness of p [...]etry and [...], in moving the affections:—they bore pal [...] i [...] their [...], to shew that they conquered mens' p [...]ssions.

The muses are represented as all dancing in a ring▪ to shew the agreement and harmony among the liberal sciences: and the graces were joined with them, to shew the solid joy that is the constant attendant on LEARNING and VIRTUE.

To recite verse with propriet [...], it will be necessary to ob­serve the few following rules:

1. All the words should be pronounced exactly the same as in prose.

2. The movement of the voice should be from ac­cent to accent, laying no stress on the intermediate syl­lables.

3. There should be the same observation of emphasis, and the same change of notes on the emphatic sylla­bles, as in reading prose.

[Page]4. The pauses relative to the sense only, which I call sentential, are to be observed in the same manner as in prose; but particular attention must be given to those two peculiar to verse, the censural and final, which I call musical pauses.

5. The usual faults of introducing sing-song notes, or a species of chanting i [...]to poetical numbers, is dis­agreeable to every ear, but that of the chanter himself.

Readers of verse ought to consider, that they are doing great injustice to the poet's music, when they substitute their own in its place.—The tune of the poet can then only be heard, when his verses are re­cited with such notes of the voice as result from the sentiments: and a due proportion of time observed, in the feet and pauses, the constituent parts of verse.

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THE MENTAL FLOWER-GARDEN.

LINES, addressed to the FAIR-READERS of the FLOWER-GARDEN:

1.
MENTAL pleasure here you'll find,
Pleasures that adorn the mind;
Transient are the joys of sense,
They no solid bliss dispense.
2
Wisdom with assuaging pow'r
Sooths us in affliction's hour,
Brings a balm that gives relief,
To the care-worn heart of grief.
3.
When in the female form is seen
Beauty with complacent mien,
Combin'd with sense and innocence,
Resistless is their influence.
4.
Oh! be it yours sweet maids to know
Joys that from pure reflection flow;
This truth impress upon your heart,
That virtue must our bliss impart.

AMERICAN MUSE.
TO PHILENIA: Occasioned by reading her Poem, entitled, "the Virtues of Nature."

IN former days, as ancient poets feign,
A strange contention fill'd th' etherial plain,
What goddess, fairest in angelic eyes,
Should o'er her bright compeers in beauty [...]ise,
In make and motion high above the rest,
Sov'reign of hearts and queen of love [...]ss'd.
[Page 8]All wakeful discord the event improv'd,
And the whole sex a gilded apple mov'd.
O'er the [...]est plain the frivolous bauble roll'd.
"To the first fair," inscrib'd in gems and gold.
Who had the fairest face fit object then,
For universal war of gods and men.
2.
A higher theme has now all hearts inclin'd,
Not whose the fairest form, but brightest mind!
And hark! how loud the mental contest rings!
Apollo's hand has set the tuneful strings:
PHILENIA's verse, his living lyre divine
Admits, and calls upon the sacred nine,
To name the fair pre-eminent in song,
To wh [...]s [...] mild voice the dulcet notes belong.
3.
T [...] su [...]h enchantress he'll consign a lyre,
The bright [...] [...]ial of superior fire;
[...] chords the di [...]p [...]s [...] clear,
[...], s [...]all [...] [...]ar.
Extatic air [...], that hymn the m [...]rning r [...]y,
The la [...]k's full nose, and linnet's lighter lay,
Shall emulate PHILENIA's song in vain,
Her heavenly harp sublime and seraph strain.
And hence shall bigot pride contest no more
The sexes equal claim to Classic lore.
4.
Mean is the man who never can bestow
A leaf of laurel to a female brow;
When sterling sense and tuneful diction join'd
Are the twin offspring of a female mind.
From Albion's cliffs what tides of music flow,
When heart-struck Seward pours the plaint of woe,
When Carter's modulated numbers roll,
And Moore and Akin moralize the soul.
5.
O woman, favorite of the smiling skies!
Be thy just rights asserted by the wise!
To thy fair fame impartial, they shall find
Genius is not to any sex confin'd;
[Page 9]Bound by no Salick law, to nature true,
"Shall give to merit what is merit's due."

The foregoing elegant lines were written a few years since, by a gentleman who holds a dignified office in the state of Massachusetts.

ODE TO A YOUNG LADY ON DRESS.

1.
SURVEY, my fair, that lucid stream,
Adown the smiling valley stray;
Would art attempt or fancy dream
To regulate its winding way?
2.
So pleas'd I view thy shining hair
In loose dishevelled ringlets flow;
Not all thy art, not all thy care,
Can there one single grace bestow.
3
Survey again that verdant hill,
With native plants enamell'd o'er,
Say, can the painter's utmost skill
Instruct one flower to please us more?
4.
As vain it were, with artful die,
To change the bloom thy cheeks disclose;
And, oh! may Laura, ere she try,
With fresh vermilion paint the rose!
5.
Hark! how the wood-lark's tuneful throat
Can ev'ry study'd grace excell;
Let art constrain the warbling note,
And will she Laura please so well?
6.
Oh! ever keep thy native ease,
By no pedantic law confin'd;
For Laura's voice is form'd to please
If Laura's words be not unkind.
[Shenstone.]

THE NATURAL BEAUTY.

1.
WHETHER Stella's eyes are found
Fix'd on earth or glancing round,
[Page 10]If her face with pleasure glow,
If she sigh at other's woe,
If her easy air express,
Conscious worth or soft distress,
Stella's eyes, and air, and face,
Charm with undiminish'd grace.
2.
If on her we see display'd
Pendant gems and rich brocade,
If her chintz with less expense,
Flows in easy negligence,
Still she lights the conscious flame,
Still her charms appear the same;
If she strikes the vocal strings,
If she's silent, speaks, or sings,
If she sit, or if she move,
Still we love, and still approve.
3.
Vain the casual transient glance,
Which alone can please by chance,
Beauty which depends on art,
Changing with the changing art,
Which demands the toilet's aid,
Pendant gems, and rich brocade.
I those charms alone can prize,
Which from constant nature rise,
Which nor circumstance, nor dress,
Can ever make or more or less.
[Dr. Johnson.]

A CHARACTER.

OH! born to sooth distress, and lighten care;
Lively as soft, and innocent as fair;
Blest with that sweet simplicity of thought,
So rarely found and never to be taught;
Of winning speech, endearing, artless, kind;
The loveliest pattern of a female mind;
Like some fair spirit from the realms of rest,
With all her native heaven, within her breast:
[Page 11]So pure, so good, she scarce can guess at sin,
But thinks the world without like that within;
Such melting tenderness, so fond to bless,
Her charity almost becomes excess!
Wealth may be courted, wisdom be rever'd,
And beauty prais'd, and brutal strength be fear'd;
But goodness only can affection move;
And love must own its origin to love.
[Miss Aikins.]
‘"Give me leave to present you with the PROGRESS of LIFE:—I have never seen it in print, but have heard it was, many years ago, written by the Countess of Winchester; and I know you esteem every production that does credit to our sex."’

THE PROGRESS OF LIFE.

1.
HOW gaily is our life begun,
Our first uncertain race:
Whilst yet the sprightly morning's sun,
With which we first set out to run,
Enlightens all the place!
2.
How smiling the world's prospect lies,
How tempting to go through!
Not Canaan to the Prophet's eyes,
From Pisgah, with a sweet surprise
Did more inviting shew▪
3.
How promising the book of fate,
'Till thoroughly understood!
Whilst partial hopes such lots create,
As may the youthful fancy treat,
With all that's great or good.
4.
How soft the young ideas prove,
That wander through the mind!
How full the joy; how free the love;
That does that early season move,
Like flowers the western wind!
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5.
Our sighs are then but vernal air,
But April drops our tears;
Which, swiftly passing, all grows fair,
Whilst pleasure compensates our care,
And youth each vapor clears.
6.
But, hark! too soon, alas, we climb,
Scarce feeling we ascend
The gently rising hill of time,
From whence, with grief, we see that time,
And all its sweetness end.
7.
The die now cast, our fortune's known,
Fond expectation past;
The thorns which former days had sown,
To crops of late repentance grown,
Through which we toil at last.
8.
Then every care's a driving harm,
Which helps to bear us down;
Which faded smiles no more can charm,
But ev'ry tear is winter's storm,
And ev'ry look a frown.
9.
'Till with succeeding ills opprest,
For joys we hop'd to find
By age too, rumpl'd and undrest,
We gladly sinking down to rest—
Leave following crowds behind.

The INVITATION—

1.
AWAKE, my fair, the morning springs,
The dew-drops glance around;
The heifer lows, the blackbird sings,
The echoing vales resound.
2.
The simple sweets would Stella taste,
The breathing morning yields;
The fragrance of the flow'ry waste,
And freshness of the fields:
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3.
By uplands, and the green-wood side,
We'll take our early way,
And view the valley spreading wide
And opening with the day.
4.
Nor uninstructive shall the scene,
Unfold its charms in vain;
The sallow brown, meadow green,
The mountain and the plain.
5.
Each dew-drop glistening on the thorn,
And trembling to its fall;
Each blush that paints the chief of morn,
In fancy's ear shall call:
6.
"O ye in youth and beauty's pride,
Who lightly dance along;
While laughter frolics at your side,
And rapture tunes your song!
7.
What though each grace around you play,
Each beauty blooms for you;
Warm as the blush of rising day,
And sparkling as the dew:—
8.
The blush that glows so gaily now,
But glows to disappear;
And quiv'ring from the bending bough,
Soon breaks the pearly tear!
9.
So pass the beauties of your prime,
That e'en in blooming die;
So, shrinking at the blast of time,
The treach'rous graces fly."
10.
Let those my Stella, slight the strain,
Who fear to find it true;
Each fair, of transient beauty vain,
And youth as transient too!
11.
With charms that win beyond the sight,
And hold the willing heart,
My Stella waits their highest flight,
Nor sigh when they depart.
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12.
Still graces shall remain behind,
And beauties still control;
The graces of the polished mind!
And beauties of the soul!

THE VIOLET.

1.
SERENE is the morning, the lark leaves his nest,
And sings a salute to the dawn;
The sun with his splendor embroiders the east,
And brightens the dew on the lawn:
Whilst the sons of debauch to indulgence give way,
And slumbers the prime of the hours;
Let Eve's blooming daughters the garden survey,
And make their remarks on the flowers.
2.
The gay gaudy tulip observe as ye walk,
How flaunting the gloss of its vest!
How proud! and how stately it stands on its stalk,
In beauty's diversity drest:
From the rose, the carnation, the pink, and the clove,
What odours incessantly spring!
The south wafts a richer perfume to the grove,
As he brushes the leaves with his wing.
3.
A part from the rest, in her purple array,
The violet humbly retreats;
In modest concealment she peeps on the day,
Yet none can excel her in sweets:
So humble, that (tho with unparalelled grace
She might e'en a palace adorn)
She oft in the hedge hides her innocent face,
And grows at the foot of the thorn.
4.
So beauty, ye fair ones, its doubly refined,
When modesty heightens its charms;
When meekness divine adds a gem to the mind,
The heart of the suitor it warms.
Let none talk of Venus, and all her proud train,
(The graces that wait at her call;)
[Page 15]'Tis meekness alone, which the conquest will gain;
This violet surpasses them all.
W—

ON BEAUTY.

1.
ENCHANTING nymph, of heavenly birth▪
Celestial BEAUTY, sent on earth
To smooth our toils, our cares, our strife,
And gild the gloom that saddens life:
Thine empire countless millions own,
And every clime reveres thy throne.
2.
If e'er I bow'd before thy shrine,
And hail'd thy power with rites divine,
Oh blest enchantress deign to tell
In what consists thy magic spell?
Is it an eye, whose sparkling rays
Eclipse the diamond's fainter blaze?
A check that shames the vernal rose?
A breast that vies with mountain snows?
A mouth that smiles with matchless grace,
Like pearls within a ruby case?
3.
These may our warmest passions fire,
And kindle every fierce desire,
But Love, upheld by these alone,
Must soon resign his tottering throne,
And holds a poor precarious sway,
The short-lived tyrant of a day;
Or e'en to form a nymph complete,
If all the various charms could meet,
That each divided bosom warm,
And every throbbing pulse alarm;
Yet these were vain, unless with these
Were join'd the secret power to PLEASE:
4.
That nameless something—undefin'd—
That soft effusion of the mind!
Which sweetly smiles in every face,
To every motion lends a grace;
[Page 16]And when their beauty points a dart,
Impels, and guides it to the heart.
In vain the stealing hand of time
May pluck the blossoms of their prin [...]
5.
Envy may talk of bloom decay'd,
How lilies droop, and roses fade,
But constancy's unalter'd truth,
Regardless of the vows of youth;
Affection that recals the past,
And bids the pleasing influence last,
And still preserve the lover's flame,
In every scene of life the same:
And still with fond endearment blend,
The wife, the sister, and the friend.

THE BIRD's NEST.

1.
THE other day, as CLARA fair,
Resolv'd to taste the rural air,
To view what blooming smiles adorn,
The vernal splendours of the morn;
Chance onward led that pleasing way,
My CLARA seem'd inclin'd to stray.
Transported thus, the fair to find
Intent for walk, I quickly join'd.
2.
In meditation as we went,
CLARA observ'd two birds intent,
To build with parents care their nest,
Which to secure,—they seem'd distrest,
The crested mate, with bill full fraught,
Seem'd to display a husband's thought;
And brought materials, nature lent,
To fabricate their tenement.
3.
We stopp'd to view the anxious pair,
Contrive their house, with wonderous care.
See, CLARA, see! I then exprest,
What various things compose the nest;
[Page 17]What different parts, connected join,
To make the whole both firm and fine.
4.
So should the soul of every maid,
With different beauties be array'd;
Virtue should guard the tender fair,
From man's deceptive, flattering snare;
Prudence direct her wavering youth,
To teach her feet the path of truth;
And modesty, in outward mien,
Should speak the harmless soul within.
5
Honor protect her virgin heart,
From every low, insidious art;
And soft good nature ever roll,
Its tender impulse in her soul:
And when these excellencies join'd,
Display a CLARA's lovely mind,
The composition soon would prove,
A nest of harmony and love.
A.

A FEMALE CHARACTER.

1.
THE charms of Sophia let envy compare,
And envy must own her the first of the fair;
The beauty of person time injures we find,
No charms can be lasting but those of the mind;
Good nature, good sense, and fair virtue and truth,
She holds by a tenure not bounded by youth:
2.
The wrinkles of age when beheld on the wise,
Only prove they are ripening apace for the skies;
There beauty will bloom, nor be injur'd by time,
And virtue must flourish in that happy clime.
3.
'Tis PERFECTION alone admission there gains,
Where love can be constant without marriage chains;
There streams of pure pleasure perrenial shall flow,
And Sophia unchang'd—will be what she is now.
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THE WINTER OF AGE.

DEAR Fanny let's roam, while soft wanton gales;
Blithe zephyrs disport upon Dee's limpid stream;
Devoid of all guile, to repeat our fond tales,
For pleasing is converse, where love is the theme.
2.
O think my fair maid, that in life's budding spring,
In love 'tis the duty of all to engage;
That thence blooming summer may happiness bring,
To cherish the cold hoary winter of age.
3.
Pomona, choice fruits may abundantly yield,
Gay Flora, spread carpets of roses around,
Or Ceres benign, o'er the yellow clad field,
Make autumn's kind harvest diffusive abound.
4.
But these nought avail, if in life's budding spring,
In tender affection we fail to engage;
That thence blooming summer may happiness bring,
To cherish the cold hoary winter of age.
5.
On Dee's flow'ry margin, where ruddy fac'd health,
Convenes every morning her syl [...]an levee,
I envy not pomp, nor the splendor of wealth,
Content with my fortune, possessing but thee.
6.
Let love then, dear Fanny, in life's budding spring,
Our fondest regard to each other engage,
That thence blooming summer may happiness bring,
To comfort the cold hoary winter of age.
G.

THE LILY OF THE VALE.

1.
THE fragrant lily of the vale,
So elegant and fair,
Whose sweets perfume the fanning gale,
To Phebe I compare.
2.
What tho on earth it lowly grows,
And strives its head to hide;
Its sweetness far outvies the rose,
That flaunts with so much pride.
3.
The costly tulip owes its hue,
To many a gaudy stain;
[Page 19]In this we view the virgin white,
Of innocence remain.
4.
See how the curious flor [...]st's hand
Repairs its humble hea [...]
And to preserve the charming flower,
Transports it to its bed:
5.
There, while it sheds its sweets around,
How shines each modest grace;
Enraptured, how its owner stands,
To view its lovely face.
6.
But pray fair Phebe—now observe,
The inference of my tale,
May I the florist be—and thou,
My lily of the vale.

THE TRIUMPH OF LOVE.

1.
I HAVE heard—and indeed I begin to believe,
That woman's great pleasure is man to deceive▪
That each turn of her eye is directed by art,
And that language sincere never flows from her heart
2.
I have heard—and indeed I have frequently seen,
That a man is no more than a supple machine,
In the hands of a woman of spirit and skill,
Who can turn him about with the breath of her will
3.
I have heard—I have seen—but I hope I can say
That I have not yet felt a soft conqueror's sway;
With the sex I am ready to romp free as air,
But to take one for life—that's another affair.
4.
Thus on woman young Colin delivered his mind,
And laugh'd loud at those who in wedlock were join'd
But his firm resolution 'gainst the conjugal state,
Were light before Nancy, they all wanted weight.
5.
To his Nancy he listen'd one evening so long,
While she threw out her voice in a sensible song;
That he rose the next morning determin'd to wed,
To his Nancy by love, far from liberty led.
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VERSES ON MISS B—.

1.
HAIL! charmer, than rose more fair,
Her face is Beauty's throne;
Of lovely, sweet, and graceful air,
Her charms can yield to none.
2.
Hail, virtuous maid, quite free from care,
In her peace reigns confest;
No troubles, discontent, or fear,
Assails her pious breast.
3.
Not puff'd with hateful pride her mind,
Of unaffected mien;
She's condescending, gentle, kind,
Mild, prudent, and serene.
4.
Retire ye foolish slaves to dress,
Who paint before you're seen;
Ye dare not look her in the face,
For graceful, modest mien.

A NEW-YEAR's GIFT, addressed to the LADIES.

1.
ALL vain terrestrial beings are,
As aptly to decay;
These precepts study, oh! ye fair▪
And while Sol shines, make hay.
2.
Boast not of Beauty's slender power,
Altho it decks your face;
At best 'tis but a slender power,
That must to time give place.
3.
The sparkling lustre of your eyes,
May dim, perhaps, too soon;
Fate clouds around the morning skies,
And life goes down at noon.
4.
Repentance real, ne'er can be,
Within the silent grave;
Then think, ye fair! what 'tis to be
In misery a slave.
5.
'Tis virtue best your time approves,
It gives the bosom peace;
[Page 21]It plants content that never [...]ove [...]
With joys that never cease.
6.
It yields the soul a soo [...]hing balm,
And shields it safe from fright;
'Tis proof against the worst of harm,
That happens day or night.
7.
To heaven may all your pray'rs ascend,
To J—, be their drift;
And rank him ever as your friend,
Who gives this New-Year's gift.
H.

THE FEMALE FRIEND.

1.
GIDDY girls who up and down,
Flutter through the tattling town,
Flittering here, and fluttering there,
While you for distinction stare;
Think while flatt [...]rers round you crowd,
In your praise profuse and loud,
Think that in their pointed eyes,
Danger, lurking danger lies.
2.
Giddy girls, who in their dress,
Follow fashion to excess,
And with ev'ry aid from art,
Drest, for admiration start [...]:
Think how often circles bright,
While appearance breathes delight,
Round a room by scandal tost,
Female characters are lost.
3.
Giddy girls, I do not mean,
Urg'd by envy, urg'd by spleen,
What you pleasure call to blame,
Spleen and envy I disclaim:
But as human life's a race,
While you run from place to place,
Let reflection guard your hearts,
'Gainst all bane bewitching arts.
[Page 22]
4.
Giddy girls with wildness gay,
Do not turn from truth away;
To a female friend sincere,
Lend, O! lend a list'ning ear;
Trust me, while your charms you spread;
By the hopes of conquest led,
You may in a luckless hour,
Lose your heart defending power.

THE LOVELY TWINS.

1.
TO say they're pretty, blooming, fair,
Or praise their brilliant features,
To celebrate each shape and air,
And swear they're "lovely creatures."—
Are words of course, spontaneous fruit,
Which science yields to beauty;
Nay, often, the uncultur'd brute
Thus pays his awkward duty.
2.
But when through their enchanting eyes
And animated faces,
The man of sterling sense descries,
Their polish'd mental graces,
When he attentive hears them speak,
In pure melliffluent measure,
Mild admiration glows his che [...]k,
His soul dissolves in pleasure!
3.
With timid eye on either face,
Alternately he gazes,
The facinating charms of Grace *
His raptur'd fancy praises:
But while he breathes in am'rous style,
He finds his wishes vary—
And then, perhaps, a fleeting smile,
Attaches him to Mary. *
[Page 23]
4.
In vain his tongue essays its art,
His eyes its tranquil glan [...]es,
For ah! his pa [...]pi [...]ating heart
Is lost in pleasing trances!
The fair one by his frequent sighs
His wishes may discover,
And read in his responsive eyes,
The fond respectful lover!

RHAPSODY ON MISS MARY —.

O! EARLY plant of tender years!
Beauty that blooms at once, and bears
Discretion mixt with sprightly wit,
And innocence, with taste polite,
A cheerful yet discerning mind,
And dignity with softness join'd;
When these assembled charms are seen
All in the compass of sixteen,
Maturer age, abash'd, declares,
Wisdom is not the growth of years:
No! 'tis a ray that darts from Heaven,
Perfection is not taught, but given:
Polly, consummate from her birth,
In artless charms, and native worth,
Has all the virtues years enjoy,
With all the graces that destroy.

VERSES, Written by an American Gentleman, after his arrival in London.

DISTANT, far distant from his native soil,
Far from his friend, his parent and his love;
Here let the wand'rer pause awhile from toil,
And check his fancy that delights to rove:
Delights to ponder o'er the transcient scene,
Luxuriant fancy! wilt thou never rest?
[Page 24]Still dost thou shew me what I might have been,
Still dost thou harrow up this hapless breast.
2.
My soul unmindful of a parent's care,
Niggart of duty, gave not e'en a part;
The best of fathers yielded to the fair,
While she engross'd and seiz'd on all my heart.
Adieu ye scenes where joy and pleasure reign'd!
Where love and duty shar'd the pleasing theme▪
Friendship sincere, and passion too, unfeign'd,
What are ye now? What are ye but a dream?
3.
Yet may these hours perhaps again appear,
Yet may indulgent heaven again restore,
My friend, my parent, and my Anna dear,
And joy inhabit this sad breast once more.
While o'er my pensive pillow, tedious roll,
The ling'ring nights that usher the dull day;
Officious hope still rises at my soul,
Points to the future path, and leads the way.
4.
She bids me shun the dissipated hour,
The venal beauty, and the lewd embrace;
She bids me yield to Virtue's godlike power,
And tears the mask from Pleasure's syren face.
Yes, I will follow thee, thou lovely guide!
Thou source of joys below and joys above!
Let thoughtless scoffers all around deride,
Assist me friendship duty, and my love.
R. D. J.

ON THE MARRIAGE OF MISS S—, TO MR. H—.

1.
YE solemn pedagogues, who teach,
A language by eight parts of speech,
Can any of you all impart
A rule to conjugate the heart?
Grammarians, did you ever try
To construe and expound the eye?
And from the syntax of the face,
Decline its gender and its case?
[Page 25]What said the nuptial tear that fell
From fair Eliza, can you tell?
And yet it spoke upon her cheek
As eloquent as tear could speak.
2.
Here at God's altar as I stand,
To plight my vows and yield my hand,
With fault'ring lips while I proclaim
The cession of my virgin name,
Whilst in my ears is read at large,
The rubrick's stern unsoften'd charge,
Spare me, the silent pleader cries
Ah! spare me! ye surrounding eyes!
Usher'd amidst a blaze of light,
Whilst here I pass in public sight,
Or kneeling by a father's side,
Renounce the daughter for the bride:
3.
Ye sisters to my soul so dear,
Say can I check the rising tear?
When at this awful hour I cast
My mem'ry back on time that's past;
Ungrateful were I to forbear
This tribute to a father's care;
For all he suffer'd, all he taught;
Is there not due some tender thought?
And may not one fond tear be given
To a dear saint that rests in heaven?
4.
And you to whom I now betroth
In sight of Heaven my nuptial oath,
Who to a most respectful birth,
True honor join and native worth,
If my recording bosom draws
One sigh, misconstrue not the cause;
Trust me, tho weeping I rejoice,
And blushing, glory in my choice.
C.
[Page 26]

EPIGRAM ON A LADY.

1.
YE graceless wits, who neither praise
The Ladies nor the Lord;
Behold a nymph who well may stand
An angel on record.
2.
No railing rake, nor flatt'ring fop,
Attends her chaste levee,
No scandal twice or thrice refin'd,
Adds sweetness to her tea.
3.
She ne'er upon her sex's faults,
A fruitful theme did preach;
Nor wound the lovely excellence
That she could never reach.
4.
Her tongue might more reform the age,
Than lectures once a week;
And so it would—but ah! the day!—
Poor Celia cannot speak.*

POETICAL LETTERS.

LETTER I To MARIA, a young Lady of fourteen years of age. Written by the desire of her Mother.

1.
MY dear Maria, what you kindly ask
Of me, would be a grateful task,
If great APOLLO's nymphs would only deign
To aid and 'list me in their tuneful train:
Then to Parnassus I would swiftly fly,
And bring down tuneful verses from the sky;
But not one word of lasses, beaux or balls,
Which sometimes croud our specious city halls,
Would I invoke my silent muse to give,
Or think for me it worthy to receive;
Pleasure should pass unknown unheeded by,
Whilst sacred truth engag'd your eager eye.
[Page 27]
2▪
In blooming [...]th, would my Maria tend
To the dull counsel of her faithful friend,
Some well meant precepts I would wish t' impart,
T' instruct her noble, but unguarded heart.
Your pliant soul no stubborn sway maintains,
Bad habits gain no ground, nor passion reigns;
The world is opening to your gazing eye,
And every year—may wond'rous scenes descry;
Each [...] their turn, will tempt you to embrace,
Their prostrate beauties with peculiar grace:
First dress, then flattery, lure with pageant show;
That gives an origin to female woe!
When these engross the mind, all must give way,
Each claims pre-eminence in form or lay.
3.
These chain the finer faculties of the soul,
And, with compulsive sway, her powers controul.
What heaven directs to virtue in distress,
Whom dire misfortune! or dull cares oppress,
Luxurious taste wrests from vile folly's hand,
And fashion lords it with supreme command.
Yet view the pride and [...]insel glare of dress,
And my Maria must this truth confess,
Like watery beams their glitter falls away,
When prudence rises to celestial day.
Let your ambition be to duty bound,
Her laws benign will still be pleasing found.
Let well-built hopes allure your tender breast,
And all your graces be by virtue drest.
Then joys refin'd will make you truly blest.
4.
Our modern triflers, seldom can impart,
What bounds their wish, but sail without a chart,
Romantic notions, like the flowing tide,
Turn them adrift, when folly is their guide,
Which, like the rapid waves on watery deep,
Successive vanities their circles keep:
[Page 28]The furious elements are placi [...] mild,
To those wild storms that hurry passion's child,
In agitation fierce; from east to west,
Without one calm idea in the breast,
To steer the vessel; by wild tempest tost,
The shatter'd bark's in vile dishonor lost.
5.
No well-turn'd mind will e'er employment shun,
But seek improvement vig'rous as the sun▪
Which constant doth his daily circle run.
Idleness is to num'rous ills the road,
And false [...]he happiness that's sought abroad;
Domestic toil is to our sex assign'd
The sphere is useful, and the active mind,
Will still in perseverance interest find.
6.
Merit, for merit's sake, still keep in view,
Adore her for herself and still pursue—
Those paths, which from the good extorts applause,
These fix invariable for secret laws;
Her precepts treasure, and with art divine
Make wise SOPHIA* in your conduct shine;
May my young friend by her example taught,
Let prudence weigh each word and guard each tho't.
7.
When books and work engage our early days,
Our feet will seldom stray from wisdom's ways:
These form the bosom to each generous deed,
And plant the mind with ev'ry useful seed;
And whilst the soul in knowledge doth improve,
It's the bright object of celestial love.
Then balmy praise to fragrant honors lead,
Like pearly dew-drops o'er the flow'ry mead.
O! may this circling wreath your brows entwine,
With joy that's constant, and with bloom divine.
D.
[Page 29]

LETTER II. FROM AN AUNT TO HER NIECE LATELY MAR­RIED, ON THE DUTIES OF A WIFE.

1.
DEAR Nancy, since the single state
You've left, and chose yourself a mate;
Since metamorphos'd to a wife,
And bliss or woe's insur'd for life▪
A friendly muse the way would show,
To gain the bliss and miss the woe.
But, first of all, I must suppose
You've with mature reflection chose;
And this premis'd, I think you may
Here find to married bliss the way.
2.
Small is the province of a wife,
And narrow is her sphere in life—
Within that sphere to move aright,
Should be her principal delight.
To guide the house with prudent care,
And properly to spend and spare;
To make her husband bless the day,
He gave his liberty away:
3.
To form the tender infant mind;
These are the tasks to wives assign'd—
Then never think domestic care,
Beneath the notice of the fair;
But daily those affairs inspect,
That nought be wasted by neglect.
Be frugal plenty round you seen,
And always keep the golden mean.
4.
Be always clean, but seldom fine;
Let decent neatness round you shine.
If once fair decency be fled,
Love soon deserts the genial bed.
Not nice your house, tho neat and clean,
In all things keep a proper mean.
[Page 30]Most of our sex [...] this,
Too anxious some—some too remiss▪
5.
The early days of wedded life,
Are oft o'ercast with childish strife▪
Then be it your peculiar care
To keep that season bright and fair:
For then's the time, by gentle art,
To fix your empire in his heart.
With kind obliging carriage strive,
To keep the lamp of love alive;
For should it through neglect expire,
No art again can light the fire.
6.
To charm his reason dress your mind,
'Till love shall be with friendship join'd▪
Rais'd on that basis, 'twill endure,
From time and death itself secure;
Heav'n gave to man superior sway;
Then Heav'n and him at once obey.
Let sudden frowns your brows ne'er cloud;
Be always cheerful—never loud.
Let trifles never discompose
Your features, temper, or repose.
7.
If ev'ry thing at home be right,
He'll always enter with delight;
Your converse he'll prefer to all
Those cheats the world does pleasure call.
With cheerful chat his hours beguile▪
And always meet him with a smile.
When care invades your partner's heart,
Bear you a sympathising part,
Thus kindly bear your share of pain,
And half his trouble still sustain:
From rising morn till setting night,
To see him pleas'd your chief delight.
[Page 31]

LETTER III. THE BASHFUL MAN. In the manner of the new Bath-Guide.

WHAT folly, dear Charles, marks this change­able scene!
This reflection has struck me wherever I've been:
Our own native talents behind us are thrown,
Unthought of, uncultur'd, and almost unknown;
Each strives against nature to rival his brother,
And grasps at the graces possess'd by another.
He whose person's deform'd, no intreaties can bind,
To study the graces and gifts of the mind;
He bespangles his coat, and bepowders his hair,
Bows, dances, and ogles, the slave of the fair.
He whom meant only to shine at a court,
Is anxious on Pindus' rich mountain to sport:
And fly from the belles, who would hear with delight,
And in vain wooes the muses by day and by night.
Examples should prove your assertion they say,
Here examples are seen almost every day;
Miss Peacock, with face and with figure divine,
Slights beauty, but feign as a singer would shine;
But miss, with hoarse voice and no knowledge of music,
Warbles so all the day, and she makes not a few sick.
Miss Pattypan, famous for pudding and pies,
The kitchen forsakes, and to drawing rooms flies.
Young Pindus they say is an excellent poet,
Tho by all that he publishes no one would know it;
He thinks that his talents is prose, and indeed,
Prints nothing but tracts which no creature can read.
Shall I too, forgetful of Reason's command,
Make one of this blind, this ridiculous band?
Design'd in some lonely retirement to rove,
My company, books, some fair wood-nymph, my love,
Shall I in rich habit my awkwardness show,
The scorn of the beauty, the scoff of the beau;
[Page 32]Be foremost to enter blest Pleasure's abode,
And commence, spite of nature, a man of the mode?
O Charles, tho asham'd and quite vex'd in my heart,
I'm compell'd to perform this ridiculous part;
They drag me abroad 'mong the gay, the polite,
Make me dress all the day, make me visit all night.
With my dear lovely sister delighted I rove,
And aw'd by no terrors, talk freely of love;
But surrounded by beaux, and address'd by the fair,
What words, my dear friend, can my feelings declare?
I tremble with shame, while with laughter they shake,
The diversion of fools like a beast at a wake.
Since I've been in this town, I may venture to say,
More mischief I've done than I e'er can repay:
If ever I come where a modish young maid is,
And am forc'd 'gainst my will, to sit down by the ladies,
My unfortunate buckle some new distress causes,
Their muslin it rends, or disfigures their gauzes.
More crockery I break, tho no evil designer,
Than a monkey let loose in a closet of china.
At old lady Love-puppy's tea-room last night,
I put all the guests in a terrible fright:
She begg'd me to ring the bell—quite in a hurry,
I rose from my chair in a violent flurry;
The tassel I pull'd, and contriv'd to bring down
One of Wedwood's antiques that cost many a crown:
Three steps I ran backward, quite struck with dismay;
The unfortunate tea-table stood in the way;
(Alas had I known!—but man cannot foresee things)
Loud scream'd all the ladies, loud rattled the tea things.
The cream jugs were thrown in the lap of Miss Greaser
And down went the urn on unfortunate Caesar!*
Ah Caesar, why didst thou not fly from the urn:
Or didst thou not know that hot water would burn?
[Page 33]Nymphs drew out their 'kerchiefs, and wiped their clothes,
The slaughter'd remains were pick'd up by the beaux:
While poor lady Love-puppy dropp'd on her knee,
Now squinted at Caesar, now squinted at me:
Then hugg'd the poor creature, and sobb'd out some p [...]rs—
Struck dumb with confusion, I rush'd down the stairs,
And flying, while they were too busy to mind me,
Left my gold headed cane and my new hat behind me.

LETTER IV. To a young Lady on her first coming to the City.

DEAR NIECE,

1. INDEED, my dear Nancy, I love to indulge innocent simplicity; with that single view, I now comply with your request. I have however, so little interest at the court of Parnassus, that not one of the nymphs there will favor me with the least assist­ance, to make my court to beaus, or to gain the ears of fine ladies: No, not even to congratulate your ar­rival in town. But to avoid any further apology, I shall venture to inclose you my sentiments in rhyme.

2. But I hope, my lovely NANCY, we have been so many years united in the bonds of amity, that you will not take it ill of me, that, on this occasion, I have not prostituted one of the first essays of my muse to flattery.—Flattery from the other sex, you ought, in my opinion, much more to dread, than to be pleased with: It being an ignis fatuus, which at all times ve­ry much misleads the judgment; but from one female to another, what can be more disgusting?

3. The well known epithets of charming! young, and fair! are sounds often echoed in your ear; I make no doubt, much oftner than you wish, in this metro­polis: A place in which you may gain great improve­ment, [Page 34] by observation in that circle of good company, which your rank in life entitles you to keep. But I hope my amiable friend will not acquire any of the politer accomplishments, at the expence of her native modesty and sincerity, which many country ladies are apt to do, who lend too free an ear to the soft strains of adulation. Excuse my freedom, an [...] accept the weak efforts of that affectionate esteem, with which I wish to be thought,

Yours sincerely.
WHILE compliments due to dear Nancy I send▪
Allow me to add the advice of a friend;
Tho a stranger in town, and much more to the arts
That daily are practis'd on innocent hearts;
Despise not the friendship, that bids you beware
Of fops that assert with a confident air,
Not HELEN's so bright, nor is VENUS so fair:
With caution your ear to such flattery lend;
True love to your face will but seldom commend.
2.
Your lilies and roses may soon take their flight,
But sense and good humour will always delight.
Tho the lustre withdraw from the beams of your eye,
Yet the charms of your mind will that lustre supply.
With these still be blest! for these never will fade,
Tho time, cruel time, should your beauties invade.
Like the bee then improve the hours as they pass,
Since swift, very swift, run life's fleeting glass:
Example, like Phoebus, is bright and is strong,
It points out the right, if it shews us the wrong;
And this town's the place, which will fully dispense,
Fair patterns of virtue, of prudence and sense.
3.
Thus NANCY I've to fulfil your desire,
Tho Phoebus denies me one spark of his fire,
Your praise to rehearse, or your virtue recite,
The muses in vain to my aid I invite.
[Page 35]Let HOMER and LIVY instruction supply,
The ancients can do it much better than I;
And dames of antiquity best will impart,
Those graces and virtues that glow in your heart:
From these, modern ladies may borrow a dress,
Or a mode too enchanting for me to express.
To writers of old then, I freely resign
The task of instruction and charms of the nine.
D.

LETTER V. The following letter was written to a young Gentleman, who, in the company of the Author, endeavored to prove that women had less understanding than men—from the Apostle Peter's stiling them "weaker vessels."
TO SAMUEL SOPHISTRY, ESQ.

SIR,
FORGIVE me, Sir, tho I should say it is true,
Had the ladies no more understanding than you,
From your manner of talking to me it is clear,
Weaker vessels they would in two senses appear.*
You think me a numbskull, but that is no hurt,
Since it does not invalidate what I assert:
You may think what you please, but believe what I say,
I was sorry to hear you such nonsense display,
When we met at [...]iend S—'s you know t'other day.
I thought you a man of more sense, I confess,
For you seem'd to be sensible, by your address;
I esteem'd you a cleverer fellow, I own,
Than to plead for the sense of the male sex alone,
Had you been in the hearing of sensible men,
And talk'd of the fair, in the same manner, then,
They would have accounted you, be not offended,
A great ****, but least said always soonest mended.
[Page 36]Very pretty indeed, so the women must own,
That judgment belongs to the male sex, alone;
Poor ladies! I pity your modern disgrace,
'Tis hard, I acknowledge, if this is the case;
What, must we not grant them the least common sense
On account of their weakness? (a foolish pretence)
Weaker vessels, 'tis true, I allow them to be,
As subject to greater disorders than we;
But not in their judgments, no, no, my good friend,
The apostle could never such weakness intend,
The women must be, tho you argue till night,
As well as the men are, sometimes in the right;
And if in their sense there's the least alteration,
'Tis the want of experience, or more education!
But man is the head of the woman, you say,
And the husband, on that account, should have his way:
The first I agree to, and think right enough,
But the latter, I'm sure is nonsensical stuff;
Man's the head of the wife, in the foll'wing respect,
As he's form'd to admonish, * preserve and protect:
But yet, to make happy the conjugal life,
The husband in trif [...]es should yield to his wife;
'Tis his int'rest, as well as his duty to do it,
And if he refuses, he'll certainly rue it:
I'm certain all sensible men, when they marry,
Own they, as well as their wives, may miscarry:*
They're commanded in scripture, to love one another,
But perfection's no more in the one than the other.
'Tis a foolish, erroneous, and weak supposition,
To think that the wife is to be all submission;
And in ev'ry dispute, for to shew her alleg'ance,
Preach up non-resistance and passive obedience.
Must the man, o'er his wife, then, imper'ously rule,
And, because she's a woman, account her a fool?
[Page 37]What, is wisdom confin'd to the lords of creation?
(Who often do act without consideration)
Then I heartily pity the wife's situation.
When Eve was first by the serpent deceiv'd,
And eat of the apple; who could have believ'd
That Adam, prevail'd on, would join with her suit,
And, because that she ask'd him t' partake of the fruit?
Oh, where was thy wisdom and dignity then,
Noble lord of creation, and father of men?
How fallen indeed is the whole human race!
'Tis a dismal reflection, but this is the case;
Imperfections and errors to each sex belong,
Men, as well as the women, may often be wrong;
They both have their failings, we all of us own,
Let him that is perfect, then throw the first stone.

LETTER VI. From a Lady to W. Z. Esq. giving a sketch of his Character.

SIR,
YOU have wit and politeness we all must confess,
Your air a-la-mode, with a pleasing address;
A generous temper, untainted with fear,
You are easy, you are lively, you are partly sincere;
And you seem while you flirt to mean what you say,
Though you laugh and forget us as soon as away:
You lack not ambition, supported by spirit,
Nor yet to be told you've something like merit:
Whether coxcomb or not, I can't really guess,
Sometimes I think no, and sometimes I think yes!
To judge of your morals, I can't I declare,
Your sentiments flow in a manner so rare.
But then for your modesty,—this, I must say,
You can glance a shy look in an impudent way.
You are humble, you are bold, you are wild & yet grave,
Your wit may divert, while your sense may enslave;
You're in fine, an original problem to me,
That I never can solve, I plainly foresee.
A: G.
[Page 38]

LETTER VII. From a sensible Female, to a foppish Gentleman, who paid his addresses to a very agreeable young Lady, yet praised only her beauty.

SIR,
1.
IF a weak woman may pretend,
Her sex's honor to defend,
I must address myself to you,
Who do not pay the tribute due!
You tell Eliza she is fair,
Admire her eyes, her lips, her hair;
She merits praises more than these,
She has a mind dispos'd to please.
2.
A soul superior to the arts,
Too often us'd to conquer hearts;
Why do you then your praise confine,
To beauties she must soon resign;
Your mind should kindred worth approve,
Or whe [...]e's the charm can fix your love?
I know you think all women vain,
That mental beauties we disdain;
Yet even this fault to you we owe;
If we are vain you make us so.
But they who have the least pretence,
To a refin'd superior sense,
Will sure despise that short liv'd praise,
Which beauty has the power to raise.
M. C.

WRITING PIECES; IN PROSE AND VERSE. ON A LADIE's WRITING.

HER even lines her steady temper show,
Neat as her dress, and polish'd as her brow;
Strong as her judgment, easy as her air;
Correct though free, and regular though fair:
And the same graces o'er her pen preside,
That form her manners and her footsteps guide.
[Page 39]
[...].
Sweet stream that glides through yonder glade,
Apt emblem of a virtuous maid,—
Silent and chaste she steals along
Far from the world's gay busy throng.
With gentle yet prevailing force,
Intent upon her destin'd course,
Graceful and useful all she does,
Blessing and blest where'er she goes.
Pure bosom'd as the wat'ry glass,
And heaven reflected in her face.
[...].
On sense and wit your passion found,
By decency cemented round:
Let prudence with good nature strive,
To keep the flame of love alive:
Then, come old age whene'er it will,
Your friendship will continue still.
[...].
How blind is he, who is by avarice led,
And will a woman for her riches wed?
He hugs the bags, does always hate the wife,
'Tis money only, that he loves as life.
[...].
There are whom heaven has blest with store & wit
Yet want as much again to manage it;
For wit and judgment ever are at strife,
Though meant each others aid, like man and wife
[...].
Against our peace we arm our will;
Amidst our plenty something still,
For horses, houses, pictures, painting,
To thee, to me, to him, is wanting;
That cruel something unpossest,
Corrodes and leavens all the rest.
[Page 40]
Lines addressed to a little Girl who urged the Author to relate Stories.7.
Cease NANCY, cease thy charming tattle,
I cannot now attend thy prattle;
That lively prattle sure to please,
Whene'er the mind is more at ease.
Let not thy speaking eyes intreat,
The tales I cannot now repeat;
From study, rhyme, and business free,
I'll court thy sweet simplicity:
Thy questions strong, thy manners mild,
Bespeaks the woman in the child;
The beauties that thy mind disclose,
Describe the dawning of the rose;
Like which, it opens, and displays,
A thousand tints, a thousand ways;
Each thought a leaf, in which we see,
What ripening virtues bloom in thee.
8.
Accept fair F***y, these my lays,
Nor deem it flatt'ry when I praise
Your lovely person, beauteous mind,
Where sense and beauty are combin'd;
To heighten those bright charms I view
So sweetly center'd all in you.
Still F***y, may these charms appear
To grow with each revolving year.
When time takes off the pleasing grace,
That now bedecks your lovely face,
Then, with the beauties of your mind,
Yield pleasures that are more refin'd
While you the pleasing truth shall prove,
No time can mental charms remove.
9.
Come, conscious virtue, fill my breast,
And bring content, thy daughter, drest
[Page 41]In ever smiling charms:
Let sacred friendship, too, attend;
A friendship worthy of my friend,
Such as my Laelius warms.
With her I'll in my bosom make
A bulwark fortune cannot shake,
Though all her storms arise;
Look down and pity gilded slaves,
Despise ambition's giddy knaves,
And wish the fools were wise.
10.
Would you the bloom of youth should last,
'Tis virtue that must bind it fast;
An easy carriage wholly free
From four reserve or levity;
Good-natur'd mirth, an open heart,
And looks unskill'd in any art;
These are the charms that ne'er decay,
Though youth and beauty fade away;
And time, which all things else removes,
Still heightens virtue and improves.
11.
When beauty's charms decay, as soon they must,
And all its glories humbled in the dust,
The virtuous mind; beyond the rage of time,
Shall ever blossom in a happier clime,
Whose never-fading joys no tongue can tell,
Where everlasting youth and beauty dwell;
Where pain and sorrow never more shall move,
But all is pleasure, harmony and love.

12. Female modesty is often silent; female deco­rum is never bold:—Both forbid a young woman to lead the conversation; and true religion dreads every thing that seems ostentatious. The most prudent course for a young lady to pursue, is to associate, as [Page 42] much as possible with those who, from real principle, love the shade.

13. A woman of good sense, will be always ambi­tious—not of gaining admiration, but of deserving it. A silent and loving woman is a gift of the Lord, and there is nothing of so much worth as a mind well instructed.

14. When a young woman behaves to her parents in a manner particularly tender and respectful, from principle as well as nature, there is nothing good or gentle, that may not be expected from her, in what­ever condition she is placed.

15. Virtue is the greatest ornament; it is to the young, necessary; to the aged, comfortable; to the poor, serviceable; to the rich, an ornament; to the fortunate, an honor; to the unfortunate, a support. In short, let it be remembered, that none can be disciples of the graces, but in the school of virtue; and that those who wish to be lovely, must learn to be good.

16.
What is the blooming tincture of a skin,
To peace of mind, to harmony within?
What the bright sparkling of the finest eye,
To the soft soothing of a calm reply?
Can comeliness of form, or shape, or air,
With comeliness of words or deeds compare?
No—those at first th' unwary heart may gain,
But these, these only, can that heart retain.
17.
Since then old time steals all away,
Take heed, the sunshine of your day
Nought but true joys may find:
To proper use apply what's sent;
For know no beauty's permanent,
But beauty of the mind.
[Page 43]
18.
Pure are the joys above the skies,
And all the regions peace:
No wanton li [...]s nor envious eyes,
Can see or taste the bliss.
These holy gates forever bar
Pollution, sin and shame;
None shall obtain admittance there,
But followers of the Lamb.
19.
Life's road let me cautiously view,
And no longer disdain to be wise;
Forbearing such paths to pursue,
As my reason should hate or despise.
To crown both my age and my youth,
Let me mark where Religion has trod,
Since nothing but virtue and truth
Can reach to the throne of my God.
ON SENSIBILITY.20.
Ne'er let my soul with haughty scorn,
The prayer of injur'd virtue spurn;
Ne'er let my heart, with sour neglect,
Treat modest worth with disrespect:
But let my breast, like wax receive,
Each fair impression thou canst give;
Taste all thy pleasures, all thy pain,
And pity the unfeeling train!
21.
A soul immortal, spending all her fires,
Wasting her strength in strenuous idleness,
Thrown into tumult, raptur'd or alarm'd,
At aught this scene can threaten or indulge,
Resembles ocean into tempest wrought,
To waft a feather, or to drown a fly.

[Page 44]22. A wise and virtuous young lady can never be proud; nor can she be exalted in her thoughts at any advantages she has above others, because she is con­scious of her own weakness and inability to become either wise or virtuous, by any thing she finds in her own power; and her sense of the goodness of the bountiful God in bestowing upon her more abundant­ly, what he has been pleased more sparingly to vouch­safe to others, will inspire her soul with humility, thankfulness and adoration.

23. If happiness be founded upon riches, it lies at the mercy of theft, deceit, oppression, war and tyran­ny;—if upon fine houses, and costly furniture, one spark of fire is able to consume it; if upon husband, wife, children, friends, health or life, a thousand dis­eases, and ten thousand accidents, have power to de­stroy it; but, if it be founded upon the infinite bounty and goodness of God, and upon those virtues that e [...] title to his favour, its foundation is unmovable, and its duration eternal.

24. No trees bear fruit in autumn, unless they blos­som in the spring. To the end that our age may be profitable, and laden with ripe fruit, let all endeavor, that our youth may be studious, and flowered with the blossoms of learning and observation.

25. A constant habit of unprofitable amusement, relaxes the tone of the mind, and renders it totally incapable of application, study, or virtue.

Of all the virtues, there are none ought more to be inculcated into the mind of a young girl, than modesty and meekness. Vanity and pride are perpetually en­deavoring to force their way into the heart; and too much care cannot be taken to repulse their efforts.

[Page 45]26. Every appearance of amiable simplicity, or of honest shame, nature's hasty conscience, will be dear to so sensible hearts; they will carefully cherish every such indication in a young female; for they will per­ceive, that it is this temper, wisely cultivated, which will one day make her enamored of the loveliness of virtue and beauty of holiness; from which she will acquire a taste for the doctrines of religion, and a spi­rit to perform the duties of it.

27. To piety join modesty and docility, reverence of your parents, and submission to those who are your superiors in knowledge, in station, and in years. De­pendance and obedience belong to youth. Modesty is one of its chief ornaments; and has ever been deemed a presage of rising merit.

28. Endeavor to acquire a temper of universal can­dour and benevolence; and learn neither to despise [...] condemn any person on account of their particular modes of faith or worship; remembering, always, that goodness is confined to no party:—that there are wise and worthy men among all the sects of christians —and that to his own master, every one must stand or fall.

29. Dost thou ask a torch to discover the brightness of the morning?—Dost thou appeal to arguments for proofs of divine perfection?—Look down on the earth on which thou standest, and lift up thine eyes to the worlds that roll above thee:—thou beholdest splendor, abundance and beauty:—is not he who produced them mighty? Thou considerest—is not he who formed thy understanding, wise? Thou enjoyest—is not he who gratifies thy senses, good? Can aught have li­mited his bounty, but his wisdom? or can any defects be therein discovered by thy sagacity?

[Page 46]30. She who values not the virtue of modesty in her words and dress, will not be thought to set much price upon it in her actions.

Simplicity, the inseparable companion both of ge­nuine grace, and of real modesty, if it doth not always strike at first sight (of which it seldom fails) is sure, however, when it does strike, to produce the deepest and most permanent impressions.

31. Every thing, overdone, is liable to suspicion. Innocence, in women, wants not the aid of ostenta­tion; like integrity in men, it rests on its own con­sciousness.

32. Be very cautious of speaking or believing any ill of your neighbors; but be much more cautious of making hasty reports of them to their disadvantage.

33. A firm trust in the assistance of an almighty b [...] ing, naturally produces patience, hope, cheerfuln [...] and all other dispositions of mind, that alleviate tho [...] calamities which we are not able to remove.

34.
If good we plant not, vice will fill the mind,
And weeds despoil the space for flow'rs design'd.
The human heart ne'er knows a state of rest,
Bad tends to worse, and better leads to best;
We either gain or lose, we sink or rise,
Nor rests our struggling nature till she dies;
Those very passions that our peace invade,
If rightly pointed, blessings may be made:
Then rise, my friend, above terrestrial aims,
Direct the ardor which your breast inflames,
To that pure region of eternal joys,
Where fear disturbs not, nor possession cloys;
[Page 47]Beyond what fancy forms of rosy bow'rs,
Or blooming chaplets of unfading flow'rs;
Fairer than e'er imagination drew,
Or poet's warmest visions ever knew;
Press eager onward to those blissful plains
Where one unbounded spring forever reigns.
35.
O REPUTATION! dearer far than life,
Thou precious balsam, lovely sweet of smell,
Whose cordial drops once spilt by some rash hands,
Not all thy owner's care, nor the repenting toil
Of the rude spoiler, ever can collect
To its first purity and native sweetness.
36.
GOD of my soul! without thy strength'ning grace,
How weak, how poor, how blind is human race!
To sound thy praise, ten thousand worlds agree,
And nature lifts the grateful song to thee;
To thee, with awe, the brute creation bends,
When thunder bursts, or stormy rain descends;
Obedient to thy will, the rocks and trees
Now rest in snow, now bless the vernal breeze;
Yet man, presuming on his glimm'ring sense,
Rash man alone disclaims thy providence;
The truths he dare not controvert denies,
And 'gainst conviction shuts his ears and eyes.

37. Let no mistaken girl fancy she gives a proof of her wit, by her want of piety; or that a contempt of things serious and sacred, will exalt her understanding or raise her character, even in the opinion of the most avowed male libertines or infidels.

38. It is a certain sign of an ill heart, to be inclin­ed to defamation. They who are harmless and inno­cent, can have no gratification that way; but ever [Page 48] arises from a neglect of what is laudable in one's self, and an impatience of seeing it in another.

39.
Tho plung'd in ills, and exercis'd in care,
Yet never let the noble mind despair:
For blessings always wait on virtuous deeds,
And tho a late, a sure reward succeeds.
VERSES intended to be written under a Sun-Dial. MOTTO: "My days are as a shadow."40.
While you behold with just surprise,
How swift o'er me the shadow flies,
Oh! be concern'd without delay,
To well improve the passing day,
Which like a shadow glides away.
For life, with all its fleeting joys,
Disease invades, or death destroys,
Another day thou may'st not see—
Prepare then for eternity!

41. The beauties of the mind, such as modesty, piety▪ humility and benevolence, are as far more deserving th [...] regard and pursuit of both sexes, than all the boaste [...] charms of person, or ornaments of dress, as a real diamond exceeds in value a common pebble, however polished by the finest hand.

42. The more beautiful a young lady is, the more cautious and circumspect she should be; as beauty is a great snare as well as riches, and requires as much care, prudence, and discretion to manage it aright.

43. A handsome woman, however she cannot but know she is so, ought to make it her constant study to behave as if she was ignorant of it; and allow no free­dom to be taken with her, but such as are countenan­ced by virtue, modesty, and good manners.

[Page 49]

POETICAL PIECES.

REMARKS ON POETRY.

1 PROPERLY to direct the human faculties, was certainly the immediate object of this sublime, beautiful and useful art. We are sufficiently inform­ed, that in the earliest ages morality was inculcated by Bards:—They civilized the world.

2. Let us pursue this divine art to other eras [...]and we shall find, that science and morality have been con­veyed to us through the medium of verse. That the leader of the Hebrews was a poet, is undeniable. He embellishes religion with all the sublimity of imagery, and all the graces of diction. Every prophet resound­ed his prediction in sublime verse.—Thus the song of Moses was a prototype of the elegant psalms of David, and the sublime strains of Isaiah. It cannot be deni­ed, that poetry is highly conducive to rational pleasure in every department of life; and is as capable of in­nocently amusing the fancy, as of improving the mind.

GOOD-NATURE, THE CHIEF SOURCE OF CONNUBI [...] HAPPINESS.

1.
O GENTLEST blessing man can find!
Sweet soother of the [...]uffled mind!
As the soft powers of oil assuage
Of ocean's waves the furious rage;
Lull to repose the boiling tide,
Whose billows, charm'd to rest, subside;
Smooth the vext bosom of the deep,
Till every trembling motion sleep—
Thy soft enchantments thus controul,
The tumults of the troubled soul!
By labour won, by care opprest,
On thee the weary mind shall rest;
[Page 50]From business and distraction free,
Delighted shall return to thee;
To thee the aching heart shall cling,
And find the peace it does not bring.
2.
Ye candidates for earth's best prize,
Domestic life's sweet charities!
O! if your erring eye once strays,
From smooth GOOD NATURE's level ways;
If e'er, in evil hour betray'd,
You chuse some vain fantastic maid,
On such for bliss if you depend,
Without the means you seek the end;
A pyramid you strive to place,
The point inverted for the base;
You hope, in spite of Reason's laws,
A consequence without a cause.
3.
And you, bright nymphs, who bless our eyes,
With all that skill, that taste supplies;
Learn that accomplishments at best,
Serve but to garnish in life's feast;
Yet still with these the polish'd wife
Should deck the feast of human life;
Wit a poor standing-dish would prove,
Tho 'tis an excellent remove;
Howe'er your transient guests may praise
Your gay parade on gala-days,
Yet know, your husband still will wish,
GOOD NATURE for his standing-dish.
4.
Life is not an Olympic game,
Where sports and plays must gain the fame,
Each month is not the month of May,
Nor is each day a holy-day.
Tho wit may gild life's atmosphere,
When all is lucid, calm, and clear,
In bleak affliction's dreary hour,
The brightest flash must lose its power;
[Page 51]While temper, in the darkest skies,
A kindly light and warmth supplies.
6.
Divine GOOD NATURE! 'tis decreed,
The happiest still thy charm should need.
Sweet architect! rais'd by thy hands,
Fair Concord's temple firmly stands:
Tho sense, tho prudence rear the pile,
Tho each approving virtue smile,
Some sudden gust, nor rare the case,
May shake the building to its base,
Unless to guard against surprizes,
On thy firm arch the structure rises.

ADVICE TO THE FAIR SEX: On the art of pleasing.

1.
ATTEND ye fair, while I impart
The secret how to please;
The rudiments of Beauty's art
Are short and only these:
2.
All flatt'ry learn betimes to shun,
Nor once that syren hear,
Know, praise for virtue not your own,
Is satire most severe.
3.
Flatt'ry, the Lethe of the soul,
No science leaves behind;
Worse than the fell Circean bowl,
It poisons all the mind.
4.
'Tis not in gold bright sparkling stone,
Or brighter sparkling eyes,
The value of the fair is known,
For these the good despise.
5.
What tho the spring's elysian glow,
On either cheek were seen;
Or whiter than the virgin snow,
Your neck's pellucid skin;
6.
Yet pride or affectation these,
Will more than age deform,
[Page 52]And envy, worse than pale disease,
Shall wither every charm.
7.
True wit exists but with good-nature,
The parent of politeness;
Let that illumine every feature,
And lend the eye its brightness.
8.
Virtue is grace and dignity,
'Tis more than royal blood,
A gem the world's too poor to buy—
Would you be FAIR—be GOOD!

ON MODERN FASHION.

SOME few years ago, when stays, corsets, and bodice
Displayed the fine shapes of our fair British belles,
Each female possess'd the bright form of a goddess,
With roses and lilies, and dimples and dells:
Then grandams were guided by prudence and reason,
And wives were all modest, yet lovely and gay;
Old maidens resembled the wane of the season,
And miss in her teens a sweet blossom in May.
Now such is the rapid transitions of fashion,
That folly can govern the world at her will;
And each wither'd prude, like a child in a passion,
Thinks age may be ground into youth by a mill:
For since the fine waist hath mov'd up to the shoulder,
Our tabbies and grandmothers look so uncouth,
One would think they'd transplanted, asham'd to grow older,
Antiquity's head to the shoulders of youth.
But dress tho our ladies now cut such a dash in,
Pray could they the impulse of laughter controul,
To view an old sheep garnish'd up in lamb fashion,
Or the plumes of a peacock adorning an owl?
Reflect then, ye fair, on the words of the poet,
Whose classical talents we proudly may boast,
That, "Beauty needs no foreign patches to show it,
For unadorn'd beauty adorn'd is the most."
[Page 53]

VERSES TO ANNA.

ON her cheek whilst the rose and the lily we find,
Whilst her eyes speak a cheerful and innocent mind,
Harmonious her accents, and gentle her air,
Each youth must confess, that my Anna is fair.
2.
Not eager her learning and wit to display,
With the old she is grave, and jocose with the gay,
Fallacious pretensions she knows to despise;
Thus worth must acknowledge that Anna is wise.
3.
In her heart whilst discretion with sentiment glows,
In our bliss she exults, or she pities our woes:
Possest of such charms, must not reason conclude,
That Anna, lov'd Anna, is fair, wise, and good?

THE LASS OF MAIDEN-LANE.

1.
AND is it thus the poets sing,
Each one his fav'rite lass,
Comparing her to summer, spring,
To make her all surpass?
Ah! songsters, lovers, straight forego
The fondly praising strain,
For sure I am, ye do not know,
The lass of Maiden-Lane.
2.
Say, what is person, fortune, grace,
If wisdom be not join'd?
What are the beauties of the face,
Save knowledge deck the mind?
Ah! songsters, rhymers, then, forego
The fondly praising strain,
For sure I am, ye do not know,
The lass of Maiden-Lane.
3.
What tho in beauty others may
Eclipse the pleasing fair,
Eliza holds a sov'reign sway,
Her virtues are so rare:
[Page 54]Then songsters, lovers, straight forego
The adulating strain,
For sure I am, ye do not know,
The lass of Maiden Lane.
4.
Think not I'm lavish of my praise,
The fondly praising strain,
But sigh, "May Heaven on me bestow,
The lass of Maiden Lane."

THE SMILES OF COMPLACENCY. ADDRESSED TO CLARA.

ON thy face since complacency ever should shine,
Why wilt thou, fair Clara, those beauties resign,
Which spring from contentment devoid of all art,
And proves that true happiness flows from the heart?
2.
To laugh, or to sneer, without meaning or sense,
No proof of good humour to worth can dispense;
But to her we true merit and wisdom assign,
On whose features the smiles of complacency shine.
3.
To Chloe, the giggler, no praise we allow;
To haughty Olivia we distantly bow;
No husband true happiness ever yet knew▪
Who bliss could expect from a flirt or a shrew▪
4.
Loud laughter we scorn, and the scold we detest;
True pleasure can only proceed from the breast:
Thus virtue and wisdom in her must combine,
On whose features the smiles of complacency shine.
5.
Be this admonition impress'd on your heart;
That beautiful nature is priz'd more than art;
That pride's haughty frown will deform every grace▪
And turn to a Gorgon's a Venus's face.
6.
An elegant shape and an air we may praise;
But on the fair idol we transiently gaze,
Unless, whilst her heart truth and virtue refine,
On her features the smiles of complacency shine.
U. A.
[Page 55]

LINES TO EMILY.

1.
IS Emily admir'd? each swain
Replies, accordant to my strain,
That she tho by the fop pursu'd,
Is by the wise and worthy woo'd.
2.
Parental accents she regards;
The trifler and the fool discards;
And for a worthy wife design'd,
Bends to domestic joys her mind.
3.
When cares attempt her mind to jar,
She gently touches her guittar,
Her fingers can our hearts rejoice,
Sweet as the music of her voice.
4.
Since education has conferr'd,
Precepts, from which she ne'er has err'd,
'Tis hoped she shall shine, through life,
A virtuous maid—an honoured wife.
U. N. A.

VERSES to MIRA, on removing into the Country.

1.
MIRA, while on earth we stay,
Change our residence we may,
Change it often and yet still,
M [...]y be happy if we will.
Virtue still shall be our care,
The deity is every where;
Every where to bless the good▪
Seen, tho little und [...]od.
Seen his wisdom, goodness, pow'r,
When we cultivate the flow'r;
Wisdom all its hues disclose,
Its perfume with goodness glows;
Finite pow'rs in heaven or earth,
Could not give the charmer birth.
2.
God shall send our board to spread,
Healthful herbage from the bed;
[Page 56]Cooling fruit from every bough,
Milk and butter from the cow;
From the hive the comb complete,
Such was Israel's Canaan treat;
Chicks that once before our door
Pick'd the crumbs and ask'd for more,
Pigs that grunted in our stye,
Lambs that skip'd when we were by▪
This is goodness in excess,
Oh! how Heav'n delights to bless.
From the vine the gen'rous juice,
Not for luxury but use,
Pour'd for Mira—pour'd for me —
If content how happy we.
3.
Wheresoe'er we turn our eyes,
How the varying prospect rise!
Fertiliz'd with sun and rain,
Earth how cloth'd with grass and grain;
Groves with music fill our ears,
How the God, the God! appears.
He o'er barren hill and dale
Bade the farmer's toil avail;
Gave the linnet's note refin'd,
With its joys to charm mankind.
4.
Mira, what so clear as this,
Joy in others gives us bliss?
With our superfluous store,
Let us clothe and feed the poor.
Worth that from the public flies,
Let us seek and patronize;
Worth that hopes for no display,
Till that all-disclosing day:
Mira! then may you and I,
Claim a mansion in the sky.
[Page 57]

THE GOVERNESS: A SIMILE.

AS when blithe lambs their vernal revels keep,
Bound from the tu [...]f, and o'er the hillocks leap;
Now harmless try to butt, then run away;
Now wearied feed, and thus consume the day—
Th' indulgent shepherdess attentive lies,
Lest from the woods some sudden foe should rise,
And as they play, her harmless flock surprize.
2.
So, the sage governess, whose constant care,
By wisdom's dictates, forms the tender fair;
When her gay female throng, to sport inclin'd▪
Suspends the nobler pleasures of the mind,
With jealous eyes each motion does survey,
Lest they should swerve from virtue in their play.

EXTRACT FROM THE BOOK OF WISDOM. "Hearken unto thy father—despise not thy mother when she is old!"
A FATHER's ADVICE TO HIS DAUGHTER.

1.
'TIS Wisdom speaks—her voice divine
Attend my girl, and life is thine.
Thine taught to shun the devious way,
Where folly leads the blind astray.
Let virtue's lamp thy footsteps guide,
And shun the dang'rous heights of pride;
The peaceful vale, the golden mean,
The path of life pursue serene.
From infancy what sufferings spring—
While yet a naked helpless thing,
Who o'er thy limbs a cov'ring cast,
To shield thee from th' inclement blast?
Thy MOTHER—honor her—her arms.
Secur'd thee from a thousand harms;
When helpless, hanging on her breast,
She sooth'd thy sobbing heart to rest;
[Page 58]For thee, her peace, her health destroy'd,
For thee, her ev'ry pow'r employ'd:
Thoughtful of thee, before the day
Shot through the dark its rising ray;
Thoughtful of thee, when sable night
Again had quench'd the beams of light;
To heav'n in ceaseless pray'r for thee
She rais'd her head, and bent her knee.
Neglect her not, now feeble grown—
Oh! make her wants and woes thy own;
From youthful insolence defend,
Be patron, guardian, daughter, friend.
Thus shalt thou soothe, in life's decline,
The mis'ries that may chance be thine!

ON A YOUNG LADY SINGING.

1.
ENLIV'NING Phoebus had withdrawn his ray,
And sober ev'ning clos'd the summer's day;
When fair ELIZA of the distant plains.
The praise of friendship sang in lofty strains;*
Her voice was pleasing, ev'ry note was sweet,
Her looks engaging, and her dress was neat;
Her carriage modest, her complexion fair,
Join'd to an easy, unaffected air:—
2.
Thus she the ear, with music form'd to move,
The eye with beauty, and the heart with love:
Repeat her praises, then, ye tuneful nine,
And let her charms embellish every line;
While I, enamour'd, all her beauties trace,
Who sure was born to bless the human race.
[Page 59]

AN ELEGY, ON THE DEATH OF MISS W—, AN AMIABLE YOUNG LADY, WHO DIED OF A CONSUMPTION.

HARK! 'tis the passing bell, methinks I hear,
From yonder steeple warns me, death is near,
Solemn and slow addressing thoughtless man
In dirge-like accents, human life's a span.
No more you youths on future time rely,
Improve the present, and prepare to die;
For lo! the young, the fair ISMENA's dead,
To happier realms her spirit's fled;
She's gone, she's gone, from this our earth remov'd,
By all lamented, as by all belov'd.
2.
That beauteous face which angels might admire,
Those sparkling eyes with all their wonted fire,
Those coral lips, and that engaging tongue,
On whose kind words persuasion always hung,
That sweet melodious voice whose warbling strains,
Excell'd Urania's of the neighb'ring plains,
No longer charm the eye, or list'ning ear,
But whelm'd in death, demands the pitying [...]ear,
Her numerous beauties men did once adore,
Laid in the silent grave delight no more.
3.
Ye sprightly females be advis'd from hence,
Ere 'tis too late to join with beauty sense,
For should disease your tender frames invade,
External charms in spite of art would fade;
And know, when life no longer charms supplies,
The gay Lotharios of the age despise,
And shun the place where mould'ring beauty lies.
Learn hence ye kind and love-inspiring fair,
Your minds alone deserve your greatest care;
Let virtue prove your never-fading bloom;
For mental beauties will survive the tomb.
[Page 60]

AN ELEGANT SIMILE.

AS some fair slow'r beneath a fost'ring sky—
Sweet fav'rite object of the gardner's eye!
With jealous care is strongly fenc'd around,
Secure from cattle, and the ploughshare wound;
To lads and lasses when the flow'r is shown,
Pleas'd they all wish the lovely plant their own;
Snapp'd from its stem it now neglected lies,
Fade its warm tint, and every beauty dies;
The lads and lasses who admir'd so late,
Pass the gay flowret, nor regard its fate.
Thus a fair virgin whom kind heaven approves,
Whom friendship fosters, guards, directs and loves,
Should some curst spoiler blast her spotless fame,
Sinks, the vain victim of remorse and shame.
No longer friends the fair with fondness eye;
The lads neglect her, and the lasses fly.
S.

ON VIRTUE.

1.
TRUE virtue is of celebrated fame,
Known by too few, except it be in name—
The government of virtue in the soul,
Doth ev'ry evil principle controul;
She flies from all that would her honour stain,
Nor aught, but innocence, in her is seen.
2.
Honour and virtue, they are much the same,
Prompting the mind to glorious acts of fame.
As from sweet fountains pleasant waters flow,
And as good fruits upon good trees do grow:
So words and actions of the purest kind,
Flow from the fountain of a virtuous mind.
3.
They who possess a truly virtuous heart,
Would with their life before their virtue part.
"Virtue preserves us from the snares of ill,
"When sense and passion err, she guards us still."
With virtue, we possess the richest store;
Without her, are but wretched, mean and poor.
[Page 61]

ON RELIGION.

Having in the former part of this work, attempted to re­gale my fair readers, with a variety of pleasant flowers, —I would now beg leave to invite them to partake of a more solid repast.

1. THROUGH all the vicissitudes of life, from the cradle to the grave, religion proves the never-failing friend of man. Launched on a tempestuous ocean, and buoyed up with the phantom hope, we vainly think ourselves secure, till the fanciful picture is withdrawn from our sight, and we find the need of a more solid comfort and companion. In prosperity, when every thing around us wears a pleasing aspect, and mirth and conviviality attend our ways, conscience, that intruder on sensual delights, interposes betwixt us and ruin, and shews us the danger of weaning our mind from heaven. It is then we view the design of those comforts of which we are possessed; and the re­al use, and the too frequent abuse, is exhibited to our view.

2. Diversify this scene with the more melancholy idea of adversity, and all the complicated woes of life. View an aged father and a declining mother, tortured by the pangs of their suffering little ones, for that sus­tenance, which, alas! they are unable to afford; and yet, amongst all this accumulation of misery, the beau­ties of religion impart animation to their dejected souls. They are consoled in the remembrance of be­ing participants of the benignity of that Providence who supported Elijah in the wilderness, and who is able to alleviate the horrors of their situation.

3. Nor is the superior excellence of religion more conspicuous in this, than in the common occurrences of life. A mind deprived of the idea of responsibility, [Page 62] is regardless of its conduct here; and tho' the faith­ful monitor may sometimes suggest an alarm, yet they proceed in a careless indifference, till at last they sink into the abyss of ruin.

Religion may be justly called the greatest enjoyment of man. It is a never-failing source of delight to those who happily embrace its ways, as its tendency is ul­timately and securely to possess felicity.

If such, then, appears the consolations resulting from this divine perfection, how egregiously stupid do they appear, who, satisfied with present enjoyment, are regardless of the future!

4. In the hour of dissolution, when all the plaudits of the world shall be found ineffectual to quiet the pangs of remorse, religion would administer the most soothing ideas to their perturbed hearts. To look back on their past existence, is a vacuum so replete with dismay, and time so infamously perverted, that they are petrified with horror at the awful retrospect. An­ticipation of the future still heightens their melancho­ly; and what would they now give, could but one hour be recalled, to make peace with that being whom they have so long wantonly despised.

Could [...]ught soar beyond the boundaries of mor­tality, and pourtray to imagination the realms of in­finity, it could not sufficiently shew the matchless beauties of religion.

5. Dr. Gregory has justly observed that, the scenes of distress, in which women are very frequently in­volved, religion is their only solace and support. They cannot, when oppressed by sorrow, or harrassed by worldly cares, fly to business or those tumultuous plea­sures which dissipate, if they do not calm, the mind: condemned to fight on even ground and listen to the very echo of their grief, piety alone can still the mur­murs of discontent, and give stability to their princi­ples: [Page 63] but piety is not to [...] acquired in the hour of trouble; it must have been a cherished inmate of the soul, or it will not not afford consolation when every other source fails.

6. The general opinion of mankind, that there is a strong connection between a religious disposition and a feeling heart, appears from the universal dislike which all men have to infidelity in the fair sex. We not on­ly look upon it as removing the principal security we have for their virtue, but as the strongest proof of their want of that softness and delicate sensibillty of heart, which peculiarly endears them to us, and more ef­fectually secures their empire over us, than any qua­lity they can possess.

Ibid.

7. If young ladies, says the ingenious Mr. Cress­wick, would listen to me a few moments, I would endeavour to prove to them that the most sedulous at­tention to the person will never improve it, whilst a cultivated mind renders the most graceful form more pleasing:—What do I say?—there is no grace with­out it; nor any beauty, that will charm for half an hour, which does nor arise from an artless display of virtue or sense. But it is not necessary to speak, to display mental charms—the eye will quickly inform us if an active soul resides within; and a blush is far more eloquent than the best turned period.

8. There is something peculiarly soothing and com­fortable in a firm belief that the whole frame of na­ture is supported and conducted by an eternal and om­nipotent being, of infinite goodness, who intends, by the whole course of his providence, to promote the greatest good of all his creatures; a belief that we are acquainted with the means of conciliating the divine favour, and that in consequence of this we have it in our power to obtain it; a belief that this life is but the infancy of our existence, that we shall survive the [Page 64] seeming destruction of o [...] present frame, and have it in our power to secure our entrance on a new state of eternal felicity.

ON THE RESURRECTION.

1. I HAVE seen the flower withering on the stalk, and its bright leaves spread on the ground.—I looked again, and it sprung up afresh; the stem was crowned with new buds, and the sweetness thereof filled the air.

I have seen the sun set in the west, and the shades of night shut the wide horizon: there was no colour, nor shape, nor beauty, nor music; gloom and dark­ness brooded around. I looked; the sun broke out again from the east, and gilded the mountain tops; the lark rose to meet him from her low nest, and the shades of darkness fled away.

2. I have seen the insect, being come to its full size, languish, and refuse to eat; it spun itself a tomb, and was shrowded in the silken cone; it lay without feet, or shape, or power to move. I looked again; it had burst its tomb; it was full of life, and sailed upon coloured wings through the soft air; it rejoiced in its new being.

Thus shall it be with thee, O man! and so shall thy life be renewed.—Beauty shall spring up out of ashes, and life out of the dust.—A little while shalt thou lie on the ground, as the seed lieth in the bosom of the earth:—but thou shalt be raised again; and, if thou art good, thou shalt never die any more.

3. Who is he that cometh to burst open the doors of the tomb; to bid the dead awake, and to gather his redeemed from the four winds of heaven? He de­scendeth on a fiery cloud; the sound of a trumpet go­eth before him; thousands of angels are on his right hand:—It is JESUS, the son of GOD; the saviour of [Page 65] men; the friend of the good▪ He cometh in the glo­ry of his father; he hath received power from on high! —Mourn not, therefore, child of immortality! for the spoiler, the cruel spoiler that laid waste the works of God, is subdued:—JESUS hath conquered death.— Child of immortality, mourn no longer.

Mrs. Barbauld.

ON TRUE POLITENESS.

1. POLITENESS is the first medium between form and rudeness. It is the consequence of a be­nevolent nature, which shews itself to general ac­quaintance in an obliging unconstrained civility, as it does to more particular ones in distinguished acts of kindness. This good nature must be directed by a justness of sense, and a quickness of discernment, that knows how to use every opportunity of exercising it, and to proportion the instances of it to every charac­ter and situation.

2. It is a restraint laid by reason and benevolence upon every irregularity of the temper, which, in obe­dience to them, is forced to accommodate itself even to the fantastic cares which custom and fashion have established, if by that means it can procure in any de­gree the satisfaction or good opinion of any part of mankind; thus paying an obliging deference to their judgment, so far as it is not inconsistent with the high­er obligations of virtue and religion.

3. This must be accompanied with an elegance of taste, and a delicacy observant of the least trifles which tend to please or oblige; and though its foundation must be rooted in the heart, it can scarce be perfect without a complete knowledge of the world. In so­ciety it is the medium that blends all different tempers into the most pleasing harmony, while it imposes si­lence on the loquacious, and inclines the most reserved to furnish their share of the conversation.

[Page 66]4. It represses the desire of shining alone, and in­creases the desire of being mutually agreeable. It takes off the edge of raillery, and gives delicacy to wit. It preserves a proper subordination among all ranks of people, and can reconcile a perfect ease with the most exact propriety. To superiors it appears in a respectful freedom; and no intimacy can sink it into a regardless familiarity.

5. To inferiors it shews itself in an unassuming good nature. Its aim is, to raise them to you, and not to let you down to them. It at once maintains the dignity of your station, and expresses the goodness of your heart. To equals it is every thing that is charming; it studies their inclinations, prevents their desires, attends to every little exactness of behaviour, and all the time appears perfectly disengaged and careless.

6. Such and so amiable is true politeness: by peo­ple of wrong heads and unworthy hearts disgraced in its two extremes: and by the generality of mankind confined within the narrow bounds of mere good breeding, which, in truth, is only one instance of it.

7. True politeness, whose great end is giving real pleasure, can have its source only in a virtuous and bene­volent heart. Yet this is no tall; it must observe pro­priety too. There is a character of perfect good na­ture, that loves to have every thing about it happy and merry.—This is a character greatly to be loved, but has little claim to the title of politeness. Such per­sons have no notion of freedom without noise and tu­mult: and by taking off every proper restraint, and sinking themselves to the level of their companions, even lessen the pleasure these would have in the com­pany of their superiors,

Miss Talbot.
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RATIONAL LOVE.

1. WE all know the power of beauty, but to ren­der it permanent and make human life more happy and agreeable, it must have the beauties of the mind annexed. For, as Dr. Blair very justly observes, "Feeble are the attractions of the fairest form, if no­thing within corresponds to the pleasing appearance without." Love and marriage are two words much spoken of, but seldom found united. To be happy in the choice of the fair one we admire, is to cultivate that regard we experience for her, into lasting esteem.

2. Love is a tender and delicate plant; it must be guarded from all inclement blasts, or it will droop and die. To enliven our hours, to pass our life agreeably, let us enrich our mental soil; for this, joined with love, will for ever adorn the marriage state. A young lady, being asked her opinion of love, said—"If youth and beauty are the objects of your regard, love, found­ed on youth and beauty, cannot possibly endure longer than youth and beauty last. Love should be sincere and generous, as heaven first inspired it, and court [...] void of mean dissimulation. But love, at this time of day, is raising the imagination to expectations above nature, and thereby laying the sure foundation of dis­appointment on both sides, when Hymen shifts the scene." Love then according to this sensible young lady's opinion, is a passion founded on esteem: A sincere regard for the object of our affections, joined with a love, the most pure, and rational.

EXTRACT.

1. THOSE principles of freedom, those maxims of education, which embrace only half mankind, are only half systems, and will no more support the burden of humanity, than the perpendicular section of an arch will support a column. Our daughters are [Page 68] the same relations to us as our sons; we owe them the same duties, they have the same sciences, and are equally competent to their attainment. The contra­ry idea originated in the same abuse of powers, as sla­very; and owes its little remaining support to idle sophistry.

2. The first moulding of the human mind, falls so naturally upon the sex, that the voice of nature would have induced us to fit them for the task, if the voice of nature had not been drowned in the clamour of our other prejudices. How shall our children learn forti­tude from mothers who scream at the appearance of a spider? How shall they learn that they are formed for their country and mankind, from mothers who know nothing of the history of either? How shall they learn that "the mind is the standard of the man," from teachers who are forever directing their attention to their persons? How shall they acquire habits of labour, and independence of spirit, from those whose debility of both mind and body, unfits them for either?

3. Had we no examples of women breaking down the barriers of the tyrant man, and storming the tem­ple of fame, if we but reflected that the effect of their degradation recoiled upon ourselves, our own sense would induce us to rescue them from tambour and fil­lagree, and the endless concerns of the toilet, and raise them to nature and philosophy.

4. But to confound our presumption, and forever destroy our cobweb theories, the history of women is forever obtruding on our unwilling eyes, bold and ar­dent spirits whom no tyranny could tame, no preju­dice enslave. Besides the heroic daughters of antiqui­ty, our own age has been blessed with the deep classic erudition of a Dacier; the flowery meandering of a Roke; the comic wit of a Centlivre; the laborious pa­tience and republican energy of a Macauly; the dra­matic [Page 69] genius of Moore, of Lee, and of Inchbald; the melody and piety of Barbauld; the untaught tower­ings of Yearsly and Wheatly; the sprightly sallies of Piozzi; the magic pencil of Koufman; the animated chisel of Damer; the unconquerable heroism of Row­land; and the invulnerable reason of Mary Wolstoncraft: To which may be added, a Bl [...]cker, a Faugeres, and many other American ladies, whose poetic talents and sprightly genius reflect much credit on our western hemisphere.

FEMALE Citizens—Follow examples so glorious; accept the station nature intended for you, and double the knowledge and happiness of mankind.

The following judicious remarks are selected form a tract entitled, "Thoughts upon Female Education, ac­commodated to the present state of society, manners, and government, in the United States." Addressed to the Visitors of the young ladies' Academy, in Philadelphia, by that eminent patron of the fair sex, BENJAMIN RUSH, M. D.

1. THE first remark that I shall make upon this subject, is, that female education should be accommodated to the state of society, manners, and government of the country, in which it is conducted.

There are several circumstances in the situation, employments, and duties of women, in America, which require a peculiar mode of education.

The early marriages of our women, by contracting the time allowed for education, render it necessary to contract its plan, and to confine it chiefly to the more useful branches of literature.

2. The state of property, in America, renders it ne­cessary for the greatest part of our citizens to employ themselves, in different occupations, for the advance­ment of their fortunes. This cannot be done without [Page 70] the assistance of the female members of the community. They must be the stewards and guardi [...]ns of their hus­bands' property. That education, therefore, will be most proper for our women, which teaches them to discharge the duties of those offices with the most suc­cess and reputation.

3. The branch of literature most essential for a young lady, in this country, appears to be, —a know­ledge of the English language. She should not only read, but speak and spell it correctly.

Pleasure and interest conspire to make the writing of a fair and legible hand, a necessary branch of female education. For this purpose she should be taught not only to shape every letter properly, but to pay the strictest regard to points and capitals.

I once heard of a man who professed to discover the temper and disposition of persons by looking at their hand-writing. Without enquiring into the probabili­ty of the story; I shall only remark, that there is one thing in which all mankind agree, upon this subject, and that is, in considering writing that is blotted, crooked, or illegible, as a mark of vulgar education: I know of few things more rude or illiberal, than to obtrude a letter upon a person of rank or business, which connot be easily read.

4. Some knowledge of figures and book-keeping is absolutely necessary to qualify a young lady for the duties that await her in this country. There are certain occupations in which she may assist her hus­band with this knowledge; and should she survive him, and agreeable to the custom of our country be the executrix of his will, she cannot fail of deriving immense advantages from it.

5. An acquaintance with geography, and some in­struction in chronology will enable a young lady to read history, biography and travels, with advantage; [Page 71] and thereby qualify her not only for a general inter­course with the world, but, to be an agreeable com­panion for a sensible man.

Dancing is by no means an improper branch of edu­cation for an American lady. It promotes health, and renders the figures and motions of the body easy and agreeable.

6. The attention of our young ladies should be di­rected, as soon as they are prepared for it, to the reading of history, travels, poetry, and moral essays. These studies are accommodated, in a peculiar man­ner, to the present state of society, in America, and when a relish is excited for them, in early life, they subdue that passion for reading novels, which so ge­nerally prevail among the fair sex.

7. There have been many controversies upon the subject of public and private education. The princi­pal objection to the former has always been derived from its mischievous influence upon the morals and manners of young people. The folly and vice of eve­ry scholar, it has been said, are disseminated; so that in a little while, each scholar possesses the follies and vices of the whole. But is there no remedy for these evils? yes there is—the principles and precepts of chris­tianity are a sovereign antidote to them. Let, there­fore, all the branches of education, which have been mentioned, be connected with regular instruction in the christian religion.

8. For this purpose the principles of the different sects of Christians should be taught and explained, and our pupils should early be furnished with some of the most simple arguments in favour of the truth of Chris­tianity. A portion of the Bible (of late improperly banished from our schools) should be read by them ev­ery day, and such questions should be asked, after read­ing it, as are calculated to imprint upon their minds the interesting stories contained in it.

[Page 72]9. Rosseau has asserted, that he great secret of edu­cation consists in "wasting the time of children pro­perly." There is some truth in this observation. I believe that we often impair their health, and weaken their capacities, by imposing studies upon them, which are not proportioned to their years. But this objec­tion does not apply [...] religious instruction. There are certain simple propositions in the Christian reli­gion, that are suited in a peculiar manner, to the in­fant state of reason and moral sensibility.

10. A clergyman of long experience i [...] the instruc­tion of youth,* informed me, that he always found children acquired religious knowledge more easily than knowledge upon other subjects; and that young girls acquired this kind of knowledge more readily than boys. The female breast is the natural soil of Chris­tianity; and while our women are taught to believe its doctrines, and obey its precepts, the wit of Vol­taire, and the style of Bolingbroke, will never be able to destroy its influence upon our citizens.

11. I cannot help remarking in this place, that Christianity exerts the most friendly influence upon science, as well as upon the morals and manners of mankind. Whether this be occasioned by the unity of truth, and the mutual assistance which truths upon different subjects afford each other, or whether the fa­culties of the mind be sharpened and corrected by em­bracing the truths of revelation, and thereby prepared to investigate and perceive truths upon other subjects, I will not determine, but it is certain that the great­est discoveries in science have been made by Christian philosophers, and that there is the most knowledge in those countries where there is the most Christianity.

[Page 73]12. By knowledge I mean truth only; and by truth I mean the perception of things as they appear to the divine mind. If this remark be well founded, then those philosophers who reject christianity, and those christians, whether parents or school-masters, who neglect the religious instruction of their children and pupils, reject and neglect the most effectual means of promoting knowledge in our country.

13. If the measures that have been recommended for inspiring our pupils with a sense of religious and moral obligations be adopted, the government of them will be easy and agreeable. I shall only remark un­der this head, that strictness of discipline will always render severity unnecessary, and that there will be the most instruction in that school where there is most order.

14. A philosopher once said, "Let me make all the ballads of a country, and I care not who makes its laws."—He might with more propriety have said, let the ladies of a country be properly educated, and they will not only make and administer its laws, but form its manners and character. It would require a lively imagination to describe, or even to comprehend the happiness of a country, where knowledge and vir­tue were generally diffused among the female sex.

15. Our young men would then be restrained from vice by the terror of being banished from their com­pany. The loud laugh, and the malignant smile, at the expence of innocence, or personal infirmities— the feats of successful mimickry—and the low-priced wit, which is borrowed from a misapplication of scrip­ture phrases, would no more be considered as recom­mendations to the society of ladies. A double enten­dre, in their presence, would then exclude a gentle­man forever from the company of both sexes, and [Page 74] probably oblige him to seek an asylum from contempt, in a foreign country.

16. The influence of female education would be still more extensive and useful in domestic life. The obligation of gentlemen to qualify themselves by know­ledge and industry to discharge the duties of benevo­lence, would be increased by marriage; and the pat­riot, the hero, and the legislator, would find the sweet­est reward of their toils, in the approbation and ap­plause of their wives.—Children would discover the marks of maternal prudence and wisdom in every sta­tion of life; for it has been remarked that there have been few great or good men who have not been blessed with wise and prudent mothers.

17. Cyrus was taught to revere the gods, by his mother Mandane—Samuel was devoted to his prophetic office be­fore he was born, by his mother Hannah—Constantine was rescued from paganism by his mother Constantia—& Edward the sixth inherited those great and excellent qualities, which made him the delight of the age in which he lived, from his mother lady, Jane Seymour. Many other instances might be mentioned, if necessa­ry, from anci [...]nt and modern history, to establish the truth of this proposition.

The Doctor concludes his excellent address to the visitors, with the following interesting remarks to the young ladies of the seminary.

18. Young Ladies—An important problem is com­mitted for solution; and that is, whether our present plan of education be a wise one, and whether it be calculated to prepare you for the duties of social and domestic life. I know that the elevation of the female mind, by means of moral, physical and religious truths, is considered by some men as unfriendly to the domes­tic character of a woman. But this is the prejudice of little minds, and springs from the same spirit which [Page 75] opposes the general diffusion of knowled [...]e among the citizens of our republic. If men believe that igno­rance is favourable to the government of the female sex, they are certainly deceived; for a weak and ig­norant woman will always be governed with the great­est difficulty. I have sometimes been led to ascribe the invention of ridiculous fashions in female dress, entirely to the gentlemen,* in order to divert the ladies from improving their minds, and thereby to secure a more arbitrary and unlimitted authority over them.

19. It will be in your power, Ladies, to correct the mistake and practice of our sex upon these sub­jects, by demonstrating, that the female temper can only be governed by reason, and that the cultivation of reason, in women, is alike friendly to the order of nature, and to private as well as public happiness.

OF KNOWING YOUR CONDITION.

1. THE first rule of wisdom is to know yourself; and in order to this, you are to consider your station and rank. You owe every thing to your pa­rents; and therefore you owe your first station in life to them. Reverence them for that reason, and accor­ding to their condition understand your own. Obey your parents, for they are the authors of your being. Be submissive to your masters and Governesses (or Madams) because your parents have put you under their care. Be respectful to your teachers, and never neglect what they say:—Nothing is so much esteem­ed and loved as a well-bred child.

[Page 76]

OF BEHAVIOUR TO SUPERIORS.

2. Always regard, without frowning, what is spo­ken to you, and be ready with a modest reply. Ne­ver slight what they advise you, but shew by your ac­tions that you mind and observe it. Let your eyes and your looks agree with your words, and shew your respect is real and sincere.

Be always pliable and obliging; for obstinacy is a fault of vulgar children; and arises from their not having your advantages of education. Shun pride and presumption, for they are marks of wickedness and folly.

OF BEHAVIOUR TO YOUR EQUALS.

3. Love all your equals, and they will all love you. Be good humoured to them, and they will be kind to you. Always speak to them with respect that they may treat you with respect again. If any of them are cross, be you civil nevertheless: their churlishness will disgrace them, while your good nature will gain you love and esteem.

4. Be gentle in all your words, and every one will be ready to oblige you. By this behaviour you will obtain the esteem of your parents, and will be the fa­vorite of your teachers; and they will bid others to take example by you.

OF BEHAVIOUR TO INFERIOURS.

5. The goodness of your parents places you above these; therefore be not proud of it, for it is not your own doing. Never scorn persons that are beneath you, for that sets you even below them.—Affable be­havior makes them respect you, and that is what you should aim at. Insolent and haughty words make them deride you: and then others will do the same. A scornful tongue always makes a person hated: you [Page 77] would wish to be loved, therefore follow these rules in all your words and actions.

OF BEHAVIOUR AT SCHOOL.

6. Behave to your teachers with humility, and to your school-fellows with respect. Do not run into the school, but advance decently and slowly to the door. Make a courtesy when you enter, and walk straight to your seat. Never talk in the school, for it interrupts yourself and others.

7. If you have any thing to say to the master or go­verness wait till they are at leisure, and then speak with modesty and plainness. Observe nothing at school but your book, and never neglect that. Ne­ver quarrel at school, for it shews idleness and a bad temper.—When the master or madam, speaks to you, rise up to hear them, and look them in the face as they speak, with modesty and attention. Begin not to answer before they have done speaking, then cour­tesy respectfully, and answer them with humility.

If you have occasion to complain of a school-fellow, first speak to her softly and desire her to desist; if she will not, then rise up and wait an opportunity; and when the master or madam's eye is upon you, cour­tesy and say softly and in a few words, what your complaint is.

8. Never speak loud in school; answer a question moderately, repeat your lesson distinctly, and on no o­ther occasion speak at all. When a stranger is in the scho [...] do not stare at him. If he speaks to the master, governess or teacher, do not listen to it, for it is ill manners, and shews you neglect your own business to mind others. If he speak [...] to you rise and hear him. When he has done speaking, courtesy and make a short and modest answer, and let your looks and gesture shew respect.

[Page 78]

OF BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS.

9. You may be sure whatever your parents order you to do is right; therefore do it with good will and readiness. Nothing becomes a child so much as obe­dience to parents or governors; therefore never refuse to do what they order. When in the room with your parents or relations, never slip out privately, for it is mean and unhandsome. If you are desirous to go out, ask leave, as you have been directed, and if it be pro­per you will not be denied. If strangers come in, rise, and when your parents have paid their compli­ments do you courtesy to them.

OF BEHAVIOUR IN THE FAMILY.

10. If you have sisters or brothers, it is your duty to love them: they will love you for it, and it will be pleasing to your parents, and pleasure to yourselves. Be ready to give them any thing they like, and they will give you what you desire. If you think they are cross to you, be silent and gentle; and if that does not make them kind, complain to your father, mo­ther or relations. Never revenge yourself, for that is wicked; your relations will always take your part when you behave with quietness.

11. If your superiors chide you, bear it with tem­per and humility. If you reply, let it be to say, you are sensible of your fault, and will not do the like again. An undutiful answer would bring punishment and disgrace; but an obedient and respectful one, will occasion forgiveness and praise. Whatever they order you to do, be ready in complying. If they prevent you from doing what you desire, know it is for your good to be hindered; therefore do not murmur nor repine. If they correct you, bear it with meekness: they love you, and will not do it but for your faults.

[Page 79]

OF BAHAVIOUR IN COMPANY.

12. In seating yourself take care you leave the best places for the company, and never sit with your back to any one. Study your exercise when alone; and never read or look upon a book, in company. If other children are in company never whisper with them.— Never laugh at what the company does not know, for it will seem as if you laughed at them!—This is too common a custom, with some ladies, though a mani­fest breach of good manners!

Look in the face of the person you speak to, and the same when he speaks to you: but do this modestly and decently. Appear always easy and placid when you are in company, and in return you will be amply rewarded by the company being pleased with you.

13. Speak slow and not too loud. Take care to pronounce your words distinctly. Use few words, and know when to hold your tongue. Wait the reply of the person that speaks, and whatever it be, hear it with good temper: if he contradicts you, do not think of arguing with him; for more years must undoubt­edly have made him wiser than yourself. For the same reason, never do you contradict an elderly per­son. If any one says a thing that you know to be wrong, do not contradict him or her—Modesty and humility are the best things a young lady in company can practise. When you are going to retire from any company, rise gracefully and slowly from your seat; address your eyes modestly to the principal person in the company, and courtesy retiring—make a general courtesy to the rest. Never make any more courtesies than here directed, for they are vulgar and troublesome.

TO MAKE A COURTESY.

14. Turn with an easy air toward the person you are to compliment. Step a little sideways with either [Page 80] foot. Join the other to it. Turn your eyes a little downward. Being thus placed, bend softly and gra­dually into a courtesy. Rise gently from it, and lift up your eyes as you draw up your head.

TO GIVE OR RECEIVE ANY THING.

15. Keep yourself upright. Let your head be held up and easy, and your shoulders fall easily. Let your left arm hang to your waist, bringing it a very little forward. B [...]ing the hand of that arm forward to the waist. Hold the right hand a little forward. Bend the arm at the elbow, and a little at the wrist. Being in this genteel posture, step slowly and genteel­ly forward. Don't come too near the person, nor stand at too great a distance. You are not to crowd upon the person; nor are you to trouble her to come to you.

16. When you are come to a proper distance, make a courtesy. Then present the right hand gently, with­draw it a little way; and then, with an easy motion, present a little forwarder.

In this posture give, or receive what is given.— When you have given or received it, withdraw your hand gently in a circular manner.

Place it upon the other hand, and then you will be in the posture of courtesying. Making your courtesy exactly as we have described before. If you leave the room after this, walk gently away. When you come to the door, turn and make another courtesy. Then retire at once, but gracefully.

TO WALK GRACEFULLY.

27. Hold up your head without any stiffness. Keep your whole person upright. Let your shoulders fall easily. Drop your arms easily and gracefully down to the waist. Take short steps, and do not lift up your feet too high. Let the foot that was up be brought [Page 81] down slowly, and with an easy motion. In this man­ner you may easily courtesy to any one passing by.— Join the back foot to the fore one, then sink gently, and rise up again gradually: after this continue walk­ing as before. Never stare as you walk, and always look down when you courtesy.

ON THE IMPORTANCE OF TIME.

18. Let me advise you to have a particular regard to the employment of your time; for it is invaluable, its loss irretrievable, and the remembrance of having made an ill use of it must be one of the sharpest tor­tures to those who are on the brink of eternity! For what can yield a more unpleasing retrospect, than whole years idled away in an irrational, insignificant manner.

19. Look on every day as a blanksheet of paper, put into your hands to be filled up, remember the cha­racters will remain to endless ages, and can never be expunged; so it is in life, our transactions once past can never be recalled; be careful therefore to spend your time so as to do nothing, if possible, but what you may reflect on with pleasure, even if it were a thousand years back.

Some rules and observations necessary for young Ladies.

20. A young lady of virtue and good sense, will ne­ver think it beneath her care and study to cultivate the graces of her outward mien and figure, which contri­bute so considerably toward making her behaviour ac­ceptable: for as from the happy disposition of the hands, feet, and other parts of the body, there arises a genteel deportment; so where we see a young lady standing in a genteel position, or adjusting herself pro­perly, in walking, standing, or sitting, in a graceful manner, we never fail to admire that exterior excel­lence [Page 82] of form, and regular disposition, suited to the rules of decency, modesty, and good manners.

21. To accomplish these, I shall first recommend it to my readers, whether in company or out, to avoid all particular or affected motions of the head, all wan­ton or oblique glances of the eyes, all ogling or wink­ing, dimpling of the cheeks, or primming of the lips: and in walking, remember to let your carriage be ea­sy, but not loose, regular, but not precise; and void of conceit in all your gestures: let your mien be free, and your air without the least affectation.

22. But these accomplishments in carriage, I must here observe to my little scholars, are only the beau­ties of your person, which, though extremely pleasing to all outward appearance, will never render you per­fectly agreeable, unless accompanied with a strict re­gard to modesty; which banishes every thing that is indecent or uncomely in your looks, words or actions; it tunes and refines every thing you say, moderates the tone, and never admits earnest or loud discourse.

RECIPE FOR A LADY'S DRESS.

LET simplicity be your white, chastity your ver­milion; dress your eyebrows with modesty, and your lips with reservedness. Let instruction be your ear-rings, and good-humour the front-pin on your head. Affection to your husband is your best orna­ment. Employ your hands in housewifery, and keep your feet much within your own doors. Let your garments be made of the silk of probity, the fine lin­nen of sanctity, and the purple of chastity.

LET the foolish and vain at the toilet still vie,
In the simple endeavour to rival a fly;
Do you, like the bee, every moment improve,
And merit a love which no time can remove.
[Page 83]

AN ABRIDGMENT OF SHERIDAN's PRONOUNCING DICTIONARY, Wherein the most difficult words are printed according to their true ORTHOGRAPHY, with the ACCENTED VOWEL, or CONSONANT marked in each, and the part of SPEECH added to which each word belongs: —every word is re-printed, and divided accurately.

ILLUSTRATION: THE first necessary step, is, that the reader should commit to memory the following scheme of the vowels; or copy the scheme, and hold it in her hand when she consults the Dictionary, till she has it per­fectly fixed in her memory.

SCHEME OF THE VOWELS.
First.Second.Third.
 hat1 (short)hate2 (long)hall3 (broad)
ebet1bear2beer3
ifit1fight2field3
onot1note2noose3
ubut1bush2blue3
ylove-ly1lye2 

According to this scheme are the sounds of the vowels marked in the following epitome.

The accent is laid throughout over the letter on which it is laid in pronunciation; over the vowel, when the stress of the voice is on the vowel; over the consonant when it is on that.

The young reader will again observe, that every leading word is twice printed; the first show the spelling, and the second the true mode of pronuncia­tion.

A
  • [Page 84]ABONICIRES, ab'1-o2-ridzh1-y1-nez2. s. The earliest in­habitants of a country.
  • ADAGIO, a1-dá1-jo2. s. A term used by musicians, to mark a slow time.
  • ACRIMONY, ak'1-kry1-mun1-ny1. s. Corrosiveness; sharp­ness of temper; severity.
  • AFFRAY, af1-frá2. s. a tumultuous assault of one or more persons upon others.
  • ALCHYMIST, al'1-ky1-mist1, s. one who pursues or professes the science of alchymy.
  • ALLELUJAH, al1-le2-lò3-ya1, s. a word of spiritual exul­tation, used in hymns; praise God.
  • ANTIPODES, an1-tip'1-o2-dez2, s. those people who, liv­ing on the other side of the globe, have their feet directly opposite to ours.
  • ARCHITECT, ar'1-ky1-tekt1. s. a professor of the art of building; a builder; the contriver of any thing.
  • ARCHIVES, ár1-kivz2, s. the places where records of ancient writings are kept.
  • ARRAY, ar1-rá2, s. dress; order of battle.
  • AUTHOR, à3-thur1, s. the first beginner or mover of a­ny thing; the efficient; he who effects or produces any thing; the first writer of any thing.
  • [Page 85]AURORA, a3-ró2-ro1, s. a species of crowfoot; the god­dess that opens the gates of day, poeti­cally the morning.
  • ASTHMA, as'-ma, s. a frequent, difficult, and short respiration, joined with a hissing sound and a cough.
  • TO ACCOUTRE, ak'1-ko2-tur1, v. a. to dress, to equip.
B
  • BAYONET, bag'1-un1-net1, s. a short sword fixed to the end of a musket.
  • BEAU, bò2, s. a man of dress.
  • BEAUTEOUS, bù2-tshus1, a. fair, elegant in form.
  • BETRAYER, be3-trà2-ur1, s. he that betrays, a traitor.
  • BUSTLE, bus'le1, v. n. to be busy, to stir.
C
  • CHALICE, tshal'1-is1, s. a cup, a bowl, a communion cup, a cup used in acts of worship.
  • CHAOS, kà2-os1, s. the mass of matter supposed to be in confusion before it was divided by the creation into its proper classes and elements; confusion.
  • CHICANE, shy1-kàn2, s. the art of protracting a con­test by artifice; artifice in general.
  • CHYMIST, kim'1-mist, s. a professor of chymistry.
  • CHIMERA, ky2-mè3-ra1, s. a vain and wild fancy.
  • CONNOISSEUR, ko2-nis1-sor'3, s. a judge, a critick.
  • [Page 86]COQUETTE, ko2-ket'1, s. a gay, airy girl, who en­deavours to attract notice.
  • CUCUMBER, kou1-kum1-ur1, s. the name of a plant, and fruit of that plant.
D
  • DEMESNE, de2-máne2, s. that land which a man holds originally of himself.
  • DISHABILLE, dis1-ha2-bel'3, s. undress, loose dress.
E
  • ECLAT, e2-klà3, s. splendour, show, lustre.
  • ENCORE, ong1-kòre2, ad. again, once more.
  • ESTRICH, os'1-tritsh1, s. the largest of birds.
  • EUCHARIST, ú2-ka1-rist1, s. the act of giving thanks, the sacrament, the sacramental act in which the death of our Redeemer is commemo­traed; the sacrament of the Lord's supper.
  • EUGH, yó3, s. a tree.
  • EYRE, àr2, s. the court of justice, itinerancy.
F
  • FLAMBEAU, flam'1-bo2, s. a lighted torch.
  • FALCON, fákn3, s. a hawk trained for sport; a sort of cannon.
  • FOEDAL, fú1-dal1, s. held from a nother.
  • FALSEHOOD, fálse3-hud2, s. want of truth, want of honesty; treachery; a lie.
G
  • [Page 87]GALLIMATIA, ga [...] 1-ly1-má2-sha1, s. nonsense, talk with­out meaning.
  • GAY, gá2, a. airy, cheerful, merry, frolic; acts of juvenile pleasure; finery, show.
  • GEOGRAPHY, jog'1-gra1-fy2, s. knowledge of the earth.
  • GOVERNESS, guv'1-ur1-nis1, s. a lady invested with au­thority; a tutoress, a woman who has the care of young ladies.
H
  • HALLELUJA, hal1-le2-lo3-ya1, s. praise ye the Lord. A song of thankgiving.
  • HOSPITAL, as3-pi1-tal1, s. a place built for the recep­tion of the sick.
  • HARPSICORD, harp1-sy1-kurd1, s. a musical instrument.
  • HAUTBOY, ho2-boy, s. a wind instrument.
I
  • TO INVEIGH, [...]in1-ve2, v. n. to utter censure, or re­proach.
  • ISTHMUS, if1-mus1, s. a neck of land joining the pen­insula to the continent.
J
  • TO JAUNT, dzhant'1, v. n. to wander here and there; to make little excursions for air or exercise.
  • JEWEL, dzo3-il', s. any ornament of great value; a precious stone, a gem; name of fond­ness.
K
  • [Page 88]KNOWLEDGE, nol'1-lidzh1, s. certain percepion; learn­ing, skill in any thing.
  • KAYLE, kàle2, s. nine pin, kettle pins; nine holes.
L
  • LANGUAGE, lang'1-gwidzh1, s. human speech▪ stile, manner of expression.
  • LEISURE, lè3-zhur1, s. freedom from business or hurry, convenience of time.
  • LOUIS D'or, lu1-y1-dor'1, s. a golden French coin, in value about twenty shillings, sterling, or four dollars forty five cents.
  • LITERATURE, lit1-ter1-ra1-tshor'3, s. learning; skill in letters.
M
  • MANTUAMAKER, man'1-ta1-ma2-kur1, s. one who makes women's gowns.
  • MARRIAGE, mar'1-ridzh1, s. the act of uniting a man and a woman, for life.
  • MERIDIAN, me2-rid'zh1-un1, s. noon, mid-day; the line drawn from north to south which the sun crosses at noon; the particular place or state of any thing; the highest point of glory or power.
  • MINIATURE, min'1-it1-tshur1, s. representation in a small compass, representation less than the reality.
N
  • [Page 89]NEIGHBOUR, né3-bur1, s. one who lives near to another.
  • NEPHEW, nev'1-yo3, s. the son of a brother or sister.
O
  • OBLOQUY, ob'1-lo1-kwy1, s. censorious speech, blame, slander.
  • O [...]LIO, ò2-lyò2, s. a dish made by mingling different kinds of meat; a medley.
P
  • PHTHISICK, tiz'1-zik1, s. a consumption.
  • PIQUE, pek'3, s. an ill-will; petty malevolence.
  • POIGNANT, pwo [...] 1-nent1, a. sharp, severe.
  • PROVOST, pro2-vò2, s. the executioner of an army.
  • PUISNE, pù2-ny1, a. younger, petty, small.
  • PULCHRITUDE, pul'1-kry1-tshod, s. beauty, grace, handsomeness.
Q
  • QUAY, kà2, s. a key; a place for landing goods at or on.
  • QUADRILLE, ka3-dril'1, s. a game at cards.
R
  • R [...]IGION, re2-lid'zh1-un1, s. virtue, as founded upon reverence of God, and expectation of future rewards and punishments; a sys­tem of divine faith, and worship as op­posite to others.
  • [Page 90]RHEUM, rom'2, s. a thin watery matter.
  • RENDEZVOUS, ron'1-de2-vo3, s. assembly, meeting appointed; place appointed for assembly.
S
  • SATIETY, sa1-sì3-e2-ty1, s. fullness beyond desire or pleasure; state of being palled.
  • STENOGRAPHY, ste2-nog1-graf1-fy1, s. shorthand writing.
  • STAYS, stáyz2, s. boddice, a kind of stiff waist-coat worn by ladies.
T
  • TASSEL, tosl'1, s. an ornamental bunch of silk, &c.
  • TOUPEE, to3-pe3, s. a curl, an artificial lock of hair.
V
  • VISCOUNT, vi2-kount, s. a nobleman next to an earl.
  • VAULT, vát3, s. a continued arch; a cellar; a cav­ern; [...]ep [...]sitory for the dead.
W
  • TO WEIGH, wá3, v. a. to examine by the balance.
  • WHOLESOME, hol2-sum1, a. sound, salutary, &c.
Y
  • YACHT, yot'1, a small ship for carrying passengers.
  • YEOMAN, yem1-mun1, s. a man of small estate in land.
Z
  • ZEALOUS, zel'1-us1, a. ardently passionate in any cause.

[Page 91]Having in the foregoing pages given examples of the pronunciation of most of the difficult words in Sheri­dan's Dictionary; I would now request my young readers to pay particular attention to the following original *remarks, which, if duly attended to, will greatly assist them in the proper pronunciation of a number of words.

1. Most of the words ending with er, are pronoun­ced like ur; as alter, âl'-tŭr; abuser, ă-bû-zŭr; admirer, ăd-mī-rŭr.

2. Words which terminate in tion, are generally pronounced shun; as, action, ăk'-shŭn; addition, ăd-dish'-shŭn; salvation, săl-vā'-shŭn.

3. Many words ending with our and or are pronounced like ur; as, honour, ŏn'-nŭr; languor, lăng-gwŭr; favour, fā-vŭr.

4. Words spelt with double o, take sometimes the sound of u long; as foot, fūt'; hood, hūd; goodly, gūd-ly.

5. A number of words which terminate in ern, are pronunced urn; as govern, gŭv-ŭrn; lantern, lăn-tŭrn; modern, mŏd'-dŭrn.

6. The termination, ory, is often pronounced ury; as satisfactory, săt-tĭs-iăk'-tŭry, manufactory, măn-nū-făk'-tŭry, victory, vik'-tŭry.

7. Most words which end in age, are pronounced idzh; as, carriage, kar'-rĭdzh; damage, dăm'-ĭdzh; ferriage, fĕr'-rĭdzh.

8. Many words ending in ious, are prounced shus; as, fallacious, făl-lā'-shŭs; gracious, grā-shŭs; ma­licious, mă-lĭsh'-ŭs.

[Page 92]9. Words ending with chy, very generally are pro­nounced ky; as, anarchy, ăn'-ăr-ky; monarchy, mŏn-năr-ky; oligarchy, ŏl'-ly-găr-ky.

10. When words terminate in [...]re, or ire, they are pronounced, ur; as, acre, ā'-kŭr; sceptre, sĕp'-tŭr; centre, sĕn'-tŭr.

11. Some words which end in ue, are pronounced [...]shu; as, virtue, vĕrt'- [...]shu; &c.

12. Most words terminating in ess, are pronounced is; (according to Sheridan's Dictionary, which, I think, is the guide of the best speakers in England and America) as, witness, wĭt'-nĭs; careless, kā're-lĭs; matchless, mātsh'-lĭs.

N. B. In the above and foregoing remarks the printers have added the typographical characters, in Mr. PERRY's mode, owing to a deficiency of figures to continue Mr. SHERIDAN's plan.

☞ These characters placed over the vowels denote their short, long, and broad sound, as hăt, hāte, hâll': which accords with Mr. SHERIDAN's figures 1.2.3.

[Page 93]

LETTERS.

LETTER I. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER.

My dear Sophy,

WHILE you lived under my immediate care and inspection, I endeavoured to set before you a good example, and to instil into your, tender mind such maxims of virtue and prudence, as were suitable to your age and capacity. But now that you are settled in Mrs. Bromley's boarding-school, I can no longer follow this method of instruction. However, what I cannot perform in person, I will endeavour to supply by letters. For, though you are removed out of my sight, you are not, for all that, banished from my though [...]s. On the contrary, you are more in them now than ever.

2. I feel my concern for your happiness rather in­creased than diminished by absence; and I confess, that nothing in this world would give me so much pleasure, as to see you, one day, prove an accomplish­ed woman To enable you to become such, no ad­vantages of education shall be wanting Mrs. Brom­ley is a woman of such approved abilities and fidelity, that there is no danger of any neglect on her part; and the best advice and directions I can give, you shall re­ceive in a series of letters, which I propose to write to you from time to time; and, I hope, I shall have the pleasure of seeing the good effect they have upon you, by your daily improvement in knowledge and virtue.

3. First of all, then, my dear Sophy, let me advise you to obey Mrs. Bromley in every thing she com­mands. She is a gentlewoman of so much good sense, that she will desire you to do nothing but what is rea­sonable; and, I know, she will explain to you the [Page 94] reasonableness of all her injunctions, where you are able to comprehend it: and, where you are not, you must take it for granted, that they are for your real interest and advantage. In a word, you must behave to her with all the respect and obedience of a child; as, I am confident, she will treat you with all the af­fection and tenderness of a parent. Your next care must be to procure the love and esteem of your school-fellows, by an inoffensive and obliging behaviour.— Hurt nobody; speak ill of nobody; tell no lies of any body; but do to every one all the kind and civil of­fices you can. Lying, indeed, is a vice I never found you guilty of; and, I believe, I might have spared my advice on that head.

4. But there is another vice, against which I would caution you, I mean tale bearing? not that I ever perceived you more inclined to this vice than any oth­er, but because you will now, perhaps, be under strong­er temptations to the commission of it; and because, of all others, it will render you most odious to your companions. The nature and limitations of this vice I shall explain to you more fully in some succeeding letter, when you will be more capable of understand­ing me. As many of your companions are much old­er than you, and farther advanced in their learning, take care to pay them that respect and deference which is due to their superior age and knowledge; especial­ly, if, at any time, they are employed by the gover­ness or teachers to direct you in your tasks.

5. I have got a thousand things besides to say to you, but these must be the subjects of some future letters. Let me advise you, however, before I conclude, to be punctual in saying your prayers every morning and evening. You know I gave you peremptory instruc­tions on this head at parting, and, I hope, you will not forget them. I expect to hear a good account of [Page 95] your behaviour and improvement from Mrs. Bromley, who has promised to write to me now and then.

Farewel, my dear Sophy: may God Almighty bless you, and preserve you from all evil!

I ever am Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER II.

My dear Sophy,

1. I HAD lately the pleasure of hearing from Mrs. Bromley that you make great progress in learn­ing your English, and that she expects you will soon be one of the best readers in the school. To be able to read with propriety is certainly a very genteel ac­complishment, and not so easy to be acquired as most people imagine; and, perhaps, you will not find one woman in five hundred that is possessed of it. There are so many faulty ways of reading, which young people, are apt to run into, that it is difficult to avoid them all; and when once a bad habit is contracted, it is almost impossible to correct it.

2. There is your aunt Filmer, who reads with such a canting tone as grates the ears of the whole com­pany. She has frequently almost sung me to sleep, though reading one of the most diverting books in the world. Your cousin Pulteney, you know, reads with such hurry and rapidity, and such neglect of the proper stops and pauses, that the most attentive hearer cannot understand one sentence she pronounces; whilst Mrs. Dashwood reads in such a slow and slovenly manner, and draws out the words to such an immo­derate length, that nobody has patience to follow her. Mrs. Nugent reads with such a loud shrill voice as stuns the ears of the whole audience. It might do ve­ry well in a public assembly, but is altogether unfit for a tea-tale; whereas Miss Littleton's accent is so [Page 96] faint and feeble, that you must apply your ear almost to her mouth, before you can understand the subject.

3. I would therefore, have you form yourself upon the example of your governess, who indeed, is one of the best readers I ever heard. She reads with the same easy natural voice as she uses in conversation. She observes the stops and pauses with great exactness. She reads so slow as to be easily understood by any per­son, who will give a proper attention, and is not ab­solutely dull; and yet so fast, as not to disgust those of the quickest apprehension. Her voice she carefully adapts to the number and extent of her audience.

4. When she reads to a large company, her voice is high without being shrill; when to a small one it is low, but withal distinct. In a word, she is a com­plete mistress of the art of reading; and you cannot fail to become so too, if you imitate her manner, and follow her directions. There are, besides, some niceties in reading; which I am afraid are above your comprehension at present; but when you are farther advanced in your learning, I will explain them to you in some future letter. Your papa, your brothers, and sisters join me in offering our love to you.

I am, Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER III. FROM SOPHIA TO HER MOTHER PORTIA.

Dear Mamma,

I HAVE all your letters lying by me: I read them carefully every morning. I am obliged to you for the good advice you give me; and I will endeavour to follow it. I am not able to tell you, Mamma, how I was affected, when I read the love and affection you express for me: all I can say is, that I wept for joy. [Page 97] God grant I may prove as good a woman as you wish me to be! it shall always be my endeavour to become such. I live very happily; my school fellows are ve­ry fond of me, and Mrs. Bromley is very kind and careful. I am learning English, sewing, writing, cyphering, and dancing: and Mrs. Bromley says I shall soon begin to learn French.

2. I would have written to you before now; but, you know, you forbade me, at parting, to send you any letters, till I could write a pretty good hand. I am afraid you will think it still very indifferent; but I have written as well as I could, and, I hope I shall improve daily. I have followed your directions in spelling; for I have scarce written one word without looking for it in the dictionary which you sent me, and for which I am obliged to you: but if I have made any mistakes, you will be so good as to let me know in your next letter. Please to offer my duty to my papa, and my kind love to my brothers and sisters.

I am, my dear Mamma, Your dutiful daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER IV.

Dear Mamma,

1. IT is now more than a month, I think, since I received your last letter. I am glad that Mrs. Bromley gives you so favourable an account of the pro­gress I make in music: perhaps it is more than I de­serve. I can only say, that I shall do all that lies in my power to learn this and every other thing you de­sire me. I am greatly obliged to you for the good ad­vice and directions you have given me in your several letters; it shall always be my constant endeavour to observe them. As you are pleased to say, that no­thing [Page 98] gives you greater pleasure than to hear of my improvement: so, you may be assured, nothing gives me so great pleasure as to receive your approbation.

2. For, though I am sensible of the usefulness and importance of all the different accomplishments, which you recommend to me; yet if I know my own heart, I think it is rather from a prospect of making you happy, than from any regard to my own interest, that I apply to my learning with so much pleasure and dil­ligence. How happy am I in having a mother, who places her chief delight in the welfare of her children! God grant I may never render myself unworthy of so good a parent! I hope I never shall.

3. I have been learning French for a considerable time past, and my master seems to be very well satis­fied with my progress. He has lately put into my hands Gil Blas and the Diable Boiteux, both which, I think, are highly entertaining and improving. Be so good as to write me your opinion of the matter, and w [...]her you think the advantages I may reap from a [...]ledge of this language, will be sufficient to re­ward the time and labour which are necessary to ac­quire it; for I would not willingly throw away more time upon any part of my education than it really de­serves. Please to present my duty to my papa, and my love to my sisters and brothers.

I am, dear Mamma, Your dutiful daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER V. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA.

My dear Sophy,

1. I HAD, lately, the pleasure of hearing from Mrs. Bromley, that you are daily improving in all the different branches of your education, and particularly [Page 99] in geography, which, she says, you have been learn­ing for some months past. This is an accomplish­ment equally useful and genteel; but in which, I am sorry to say it, most of our sex are shamefully defici­ent; as I could prove by a variety of examples. Your aunt Delaval has frequently asked me whether Con­stantinople lay in Asia or Africa, and a thousand other questions no less ridiculous. Miss Fenton, whose wit is greater than her knowledge, and her vanity greater than both, is perpetually committing blunders of this kind.

2. Mr. Grenville happened, the other day, to be reading the news-papers to a large company, and, among other articles one from Warsaw, giving an ac­count of a certain nobleman, who, for some slight cause, had divorced his lady. He had no sooner finish­ed, than Miss, with her usual forwardness, observed that these Spaniards were the worst husbands in the world. Some of the company smiled, others blushed, and the rest remained demurely grave. Miss, pe [...]i­ving her error, was confounded and abashed. B [...]e gentleman, out of his great humanity, endeavoured to apologize for her, as well as he could, by adding, that the young lady's remark was very just; that, tho the place mentioned in the news-papers was the chief city of Poland, he believed there was a town of the same name somewhere in Spain, and it was a very easy matter to mistake the one for the other.

3. Into such shameful blunders do young ladies fre­quently fall, from their ignorance of geography; and to such pitiful shifts must their friends have recourse to save them the blush of confessing their ignorance. But the knowledge of geography will effectually pre­vent your committing any blunders of this kind, as it will teach you the names of all the principal towns in the [...]orld. Nor is this all; it will further acquaint [Page 100] you with the climate, the soil, and produce of all the different parts of the earth; and with the customs, manners, government, and religion of the several in­habitants; by which means you will be enabled to talk pertinently on most subjects that occur in conversation.

4. But there is still a higher part of geography, which, however, I dont think to be above the capa­city of a young lady; I mean that which treats of the figure of the ear [...]h; of its turning round its own axis once in twenty-four hours, which occasions the suc­cession of day and night; and round the sun once a year, which causes the regular changes of the seasons: besides a variety of other truths, equally curious and entertaining, which will greatly open and enlarge your mind, and free it from a thousand prejudices, that cloud the minds of the ignorant.

5. What an infinite pleasure it is for a lady to sit in her own room, and, by the use of the globe or maps, to examine all the various parts of the earth, and [...] travel, as it were, in the space of a few hours, ove [...] [...]e whole world! In a word, the advantages a­rising from the knowledge of geography are many, and almost innumerable. Nor is it valuable merely on its own account: it has likewise a close connection with, and a great influence on other studies; particu­larly that of history, which it is impossible thorough­ly to understand without it, as I shall endeavour to shew you in some future letter. Mean while I con­clude, by recommending you to the protection of Al­mighty God, and I am,

Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER VI.

My dear Sophy,

1. SOME weeks ago, I received a letter from Mrs. Bromley, in which she commends you for [...] [Page 101] sweetness of your temper, and your great improve­ment in the needle. To say that I was glad on this occasion, is flat and unmeaning: I was over-joyed: I felt an emotion of pleasure, known only to those who have a daughter whom they love with the same warmth of affection. Go on, my dear Sophy, thus to increase the happiness of your mother, by consult­ing your own interest; and, indeed, you cannot con­sult it more effectually, than by making yourself a complete mistress of the needle.

2. For though there are many other female accom­plishments more showy and specious, yet there is not any one more useful; nay, I may venture to say, there is none equally so. What an infinite number of the female sex, and, perhaps, the most virtuous part of it too, live by the needle! How greatly does it con­tribute to render our persons more decent, more agree­able, and more beautiful! What a surprising differ­ence is there between the appearance of Lady Morton whom you have often seen at church, & Dol Comm [...] the cinderwench. And yet this difference is chiefly owing to dress; and dress depends chiefly on the needle. Be­sides, as you advance, you will have such patterns set you for sewing, as will, at once, entertain and im­prove your fancy, and enable you the better to learn the art of drawing, which is one of the highest parts of your education.

3. After all, my dear, I do not desire you to apply to your needle so as to hurt your eyes, or weaken your constitution: far from it. On the contrary, I would have this, and all your other studies, carried on in a perfect consistency with your health, which is never to be sacrificed to any consideration whatever. All I mean is, that you should not neglect this qualification as useless, nor despise it as mean, or beneath a gentle­woman. Useless it cannot be, for there is no station [Page 102] of life in which a woman can be placed, where it is not highly serviceable, and, for the most part, abso­lutely necessary. And it is so far from being mean and unworthy the character of a gentlewoman, that I will venture to say, there never was an accomplished woman without a competent skill in this art. Of the truth of this I may, perhaps, endeavour to convince you in some other letter. Mean while I conclude, by recommending you to the divine protection, and am

Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER VII. FROM SOPHIA TO HER MOTHER PORTIA.

Dear Mamma,

1. I HAVE received several letters from you of late; and indeed nothing gives me so much pleasure; as they contain an account of your own welfare, and that of the rest of the family, with the most tender ex­pressions of love, and the best directions for pursuing my studies. How shall I ever repay the obligations you are daily laying upon me! I never can; nor do you expect it. The only return, I know, which you desire, is, that I should, at last, become a virtuous and accomplished woman; and, if I do not, I must certainly be reckoned the most inexcusable creature in the world; as few are blessed with so many advanta­ges. But, I hope, you shall never have reason to complain of my negligence: I am sure you never shall of my want of duty and obedience.

2. I enjoy a very good state of health, and am as happy as I could wish in every respect. Mrs. Brom­ley is very agreeable in her behaviour, and very rea­sonable in her commands, except that, I think she is rather too strict and peremptory with regard to the ar­ticle of cleanliness: for we must, every day, appear [Page 103] at dinner, as neat and clean as if we were going to church. Now this consumes a great deal of time, which, I imagine, might be employed to better pur­pose. Please to give me your advice on this subject in your next letter. I have no more to add, but to offer my duty to my papa and you, and my love to my brothers and sisters.

I am, Your obedient daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER VIII. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA.

My dear Sophy,

1. YOUR last letter, which I received some weeks ago, gave me the greatest pleasure. You are as much improved in your writing as I could have wished; and more indeed than I could have expected. Your expressions of duty and obedience are extremely agreeable: they, at once, discover a good heart and a clear head. Do not make yourself uneasy, my dear, because you can never repay the favours I have done you. I am repaid already. I enjoy as much pleasure in bestowing, as you can possibly do in receiving them; and, if I should have the additional happiness to see you become a polite and virtuous woman, I shall be doubly rewarded.

2. To receive favours from a stranger, indeed, which we can never return, is always disagreeable, and sometimes dangerous. But, with parent and child, the case is very different. The connexion between them is so close by nature, that all the good offices in the world can hardly make it closer. I am glad to hear that you live so happily. It is no more than I had reason to expect, from the sweetness of your own disposition, and the prudence of your governess; and I should be sorry if you considered her orders, with [Page 104] regard to cleanliness, as any diminution of your hap­piness; for she is certainly in the right.

3. Cleanliness, my dear, is a habit, I had almost said a virtue, which you cannot learn too soon, nor retain too long, both from a regard to yourself, and to the world around you. It will, at once, contribute to the ease and health of your body, and be the means of introducing you into polite and genteel company; at least, the opposite extreme of dirtiness will certain­ly deprive you of that advantage; it will either make your company to be shunned; or, if that cannot be done, it will always render your presence disagreeable.

4. But beware, my dear, that you do not confound cleanliness with finery; nor mistake the one for the other. They are as distinct in their nature as any two things can well be; and, though not inconsistent, are frequently found to be separated. A woman may be very neat and clean, in a plain and simple dress; and she may be very dirty and tawdry, in a fine and costly one. There is Miss Molesworth: She never wears any thing above a plain silk gown; but that, and all the other parts of her dress, which are equally simple, she puts on and adjusts with such elegance and propri­ety, as pleases the eye of every one that beholds her: whilst Lady Dormer, on the contrary, though drest in the richest satin brocade, and loaded with a profusion of jewels and pearls, is, after all, so slovenly and taw­dry, that she may rather be said to carry her clothes like a porter, than to wear them like a well-drest lady.

5. I therefore expect you will obey your governess's orders in this, and in every thing else, because I am confident she will never order you to do any thing but what is just and reasonable, But you say, it consumes a great deal of time: I am persuaded you will always find as much as you ought to bestow (in order to be near) between the time that is usual for leaving off [Page 105] school, and that of going to dinner. Besides, it will, every day, require less, for the more you practise it, the easier it will become; and a twelve month hence, I dare say, you will be able to dress yourself as well in half an hour, as you can do, at present, in a whole one. You may likewise consider it as a kind of di­version or relaxation from more serious business; and diversions, you know, of one sort or other, you must have. Your papa, your brothers and sisters join in love to you.

I ever am, Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER IX. [...] SOPHIA TO HER MOTHER PORTIA.

Dear Mamma,

1. I RECEIVED your very kind letter, and am greatly obliged to you for your good advice, which I shall ever consider in the light of a command. I think myself bound in duty to obey all your orders; whether I understand the reasonableness of them or not; tho ever since I was capable to distinguish right from wrong, you have always had the good-nature and condescension to convince me, that whatever you desired me to do was for my own interest and advantage.

2. There is still another particular, in which I must beg your advice; as I am resolved to do nothing with­out your permission. What I mean is the choice of my friends: for, though we are commonly all in the same room, yet I have no more than a general ac­quaintance with any one of my fellow boarders. I have not contracted a friendship and intimacy with any one of them. I might indeed have done it long ago. I have had frequent opportunities. I have been invited, and even importuned to it. But, sensible of my own incapacity to judge for myself, I have decli­ned [Page 106] all their offers of friendship, and still kept myself on general terms with them. Some say I am spirit­less; some call me shy; and others think I am proud▪ But I am the less concerned what they either think or say, if you approve of my conduct.

3. I do not choose to find fault with the behaviour of any of my companions. They are all as good, per­haps they are better than I am; and, I know, you would condemn any thing that had the least appearance of detraction. But still, I must own, there are three or four of them, for whom I have a particular esteem. Th [...]fore so decent and regular in their carriage; so open [...]nd honest in all their actions; and so civil and obliging in their manner, that Mrs. Bromley is al­ways pointing them out to the rest as an example worthy of their imitation. But, even with them, I will not enter into a strict friendship, till I receive [...]ur advice; which, I hope you will give me as soon as you can. Please to present my duty to my papa, and my love to my brothers and sisters.

I am, Your obliged and obedient daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER X. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA.

My dear Sophy,

1. HOW shall I express the joy I received from the perusal of your last letter! how happy am I in having a daughter, who, at an age, when most young ladies imagine they can think and act for them­selves, is so humble and dutiful, as to undertake no­thing without the permission and advice of her mother! But can't I conceal my joy within my own breast?— Or, if it must have [...]ent, can't I be satisfied with im­parting it to others? Why tell it to my daughter? Why, my dear, I tell it to you for two reasons; both [Page 107] because I like to think of you, and talk to you, and also because I am persuaded it will be an additional mo­tive to your persevering in the same virtuous course. For, I believe, you have such a tender regard for my happiness, that, when once you know how greatly it depends on your good behaviour, you will never lessen it by a contrary conduct.

2. And now, after this flow of parental affection, I come to give you my best advice with regard to the choice of your friends. This, my dear, is one of the most important steps in life, and should be conducted with the greatest prudence; otherwise [...]ead of be­ing a source of happiness and pleasure, as it may and ought to be, it will prove the occasion of much pain and uneasiness.

3. The first thing then, and indeed the principal thing, to be considered, in the choice of your friend, is, that she be entirely free from all manner of vice, and from foibles too, as much as possible; for if she is not, you will be in danger of being corrupted by her bad example. We naturally, and, as it were, in­sensibly contract the manners of those with whom we converse. In a vicious example, especially, there is a kind of contagion, which rages like a plague, and insects all those who are within the reach of its bale­ful influence. It undermines our virtue impercepti­bly. It steals upon us unawares, and takes us by sur­prise.

4. There is an old proverb to this purpose, which is not the less true for being common, viz. "that birds of a feather flock together▪" by which I think is ge­nerally understood, that persons of the same sentiments and character are apt to associate with one another. But, I apprehend, it will likewise bear this construc­tion, which is not so commonly attended to, that, let their tempers and dispositions be ever so different when [Page 108] they meet, yet, by a long and intimate acquaintance, they will, in the end, become nearly alike.

5 But, lest you should not be able to apply gene­ral rules to particular cases, I shall point out some of the vices and foibles, which you ought chiefly to guard against in the choice of a friend. Above all things, then, let her be free from falsehood and deceit, from hypocrisy and dissimulation. Let her be open, honest and sincere, in all her actions. Sincerity is the foun­dation, it is the soul of friendship; without this it cannot possibly exist. For how can you cultivate a friendship with one who is always endeavoring to de­ceive you? Upon whom you cannot depend for the truth of any word she speaks, or the sincerity of any action she performs? A friendship with such a per­son, if indeed there could be any, would be alarmed and disturbed by perpetual fears and suspicions, which are utterly inconsistent with the nature of this sacred union.

6. Flattery is another vice, nearly a-kin to the for­mer, and no less an enemy to friendship. It consists in praising us for accomplishments which we do not possess, and in concealing or extenuating the faults of which we are, unhappily, guilty. By the former we are puffed up with a ridiculous pride; by the latter we are lulled into a dangerous, and often fatal securi­ty. It is the part of a true friend, on the contrary, to inform us of all our foibles and imperfections, and to give us all the assistance in her power to correct and amend them. For how else can we acquire a thorough knowledge of ourselves?

7. The vice directly opposed to flattery is calumny and detraction. It is, of all others, the most odious in its nature, the most pernicious in its effects, and the most inconsistent with friendship. A friend! can that honourable name be bestowed upon one, whose [Page 109] whole life is spent in the low and dirty arts of scandal and defamation? whose greatest pleasure it is to black­en and sully the reputation of every person she knows. To contract a friendship with one of this temper, would argue the height of folly. You might then ex­pect to have all your foibles and weaknesses exposed to the view of the whole world, and your character loaded with a thousand blemishes, from which, per­haps, it is entirely free: like the silly clown in the fable, who finding a snake in the fields, chill'd and benumb'd with cold, put it in his bosom; but no sooner was it recruited by the genial warmth of his body, than it stung him to the quick, and made him pay dear for his ill-judged humanity.

8. Your friend should likewise be free from pride, vanity, and self-conceit. For one that is immoderate­ly fond of herself, is not likely to be very fond of an­other; she that has a high opinion of her own accom­plishments, will probably have but a very low opinion of yours. There is nobody, she imagines, so virtuous as to deserve her affection, or so sensible as to merit her esteem; and without esteem and affection there can be no friendship.

9. Let her have nothing awkward, ridiculous, or affected in her manner. If she has, besides the dan­ger of being infected by her example, you will fre­quently be put to the blush on her account. For one blushes for her friend almost as naturally as for herself.

And now, my dear, having thus mentioned some of the principal vices and foibles, from which your friend ought to be free, I should next proceed to consider those virtues and good qualities, which she ought to possess: but this shall be the subject of another letter. In the mean time I conclude, by recommending you to the divine protection, and am,

Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.
[Page 110]

LETTER XI.

My dear Sophy,

1. AS I would not wish to leave you long undeter­mined in a matter of so much consequence as the choice of a friend, I have taken the first opportu­nity, you see, of resuming the subject; and shall now endeavour to point out those virtues and good qualities which you ought chiefly to regard in her character.

First of all, then, my dear, let her be one who is dutiful to her parents: for she that is undutiful to her parents, will never be faithful to you. She that is deficient in this most important of all duties, is not likely to be very observant of any other. And, in­deed, from a young lady's behaviour in this respect, you may form a pretty just notion of her character in general; for one that is so ungrateful, so unnatural, as to have thrown off all respect and deference to her parents, may, and probably will, run into every other kind of vice and wickedness. Such a person, I hope, you will never make your friend. With such a one I would not even have you to keep company. If you do, you may be worse for it: it is impossible you can ever be the better.

2. Another essential ingredient in the character of a true friend, is humanity and good nature; a certain sweetness of disposition and equality of mind, not to be ruffled by every trifling accident, nor soured by any misfortune. A person, blessed with this happy tem­per, possesses within herself a perpetual fund of cheer­fulness and good humour, and diffuses joy and gladness wherever she comes. Pleased with herself, she is the more apt to be pleased with those around her. Slow to anger, she is not provoked by slight offences; and ready to forgive, she never harbours resentment in her breast. As she is happy in her own mind, she delights to communicate happiness to others; and, therefore, [Page 111] is willing to cultivate a friendship with any person, that seems deserving of her confidence. And, as she is steady and uniform in her conduct, she never for­sakes her old friends, unless, by their folly or wick­edness, they have forfeited all claim to any further regard.

3. In a word, without good-nature, there can be no such thing as friendship. The ill-natured, the peevish, and the passionate, are utterly unqualified for this virtuous intercourse. A heart over-run with these vicious passions, is not susceptible of such fine and delicate feelings. Friendship is a tender plant, and will not grow in such a coarse and uncultivated soil. A passionate person; in the violence of her anger, or rather madness, will say and do a thousand things which are intirely inconsistent with all the laws of friendship; and the misfortune is, that every trifle is sufficient to rouse her passion. The breaking of a Chi­na dish, the treading on a lap-dog, any thing will do▪ the fuel is within her, and the least spark will kindle the fire, and blow it up into a flame.

4. Secresy, my dear, is another quality, which your friend ought to possess. She that cannot keep a secret, can never be a true friend. For what is a friend? It is one to whom we can unbosom ourselves without reserve; to whom we can impart all our se­cret thoughts, wishes and designs, without the least fear of being betrayed, or having them exposed to the view of the world. Secrets are of two sorts; those which we would not disclose from the motives of shame, and those which we would not discover from the dictates of prudence. Of the former kind, I am persuaded, you have none as yet; I hope you will never have any. Of the latter, I suppose, you have some already, and the longer you live, you will have the more. But to betray either the one or the other [Page 112] is equally unworthy the character of a friend, and e­qually injurious to us; and she that has acted so base­ly once, should never have it in her power to deceive us again.

5. The next thing, my dear Sophy, to be consider­ed in the choice of a friend, is, that her sentiments and dispositions be nearly the same with your own▪ otherwise you can never agree. If you are fond of business, and she of diversions if you love to stay at home, and she to be always gadding abroad; if you delight in plainness and simplicity, and she in pomp and splendour; if you are pleased with sensible and serious conversation, and she with nothing but fun and frolic; if you are fond of reading, and she of ga­ming; if you are happy in peace and quietness, and she only in crowds and company.—In a word, if you love what she hates, and if she likes what you abhor, there can be no concord and agreement, no sympathy of temper, no harmony of sentiment, no mutual hap­piness; and without mutual happiness, friendship can not exist

6. After all, my dear, a perfect similarity of taste and sentiment is not to be expected (our minds being as different as our faces) nor, indeed, could it be ob­tained, do I think it ought to be desired. The fairest characters are stained with many spots and blemishes. The most virtuous persons have many foibles and im­perfections hanging about them, which they are not likely ever to correct, by conversing only with those of their own cast and complexion. Should the grave converse only with the grave, would they not some­times be in danger of sinking into dullness? If the gay and sprightly keep company with none but those of the same humour, will they not frequently be apt to soar into—mad [...]s? By the same practice, the frugal would probably become avaricious, and the ge­nerous, [Page 113] prodigal and profuse. It is therefore, my dear, an instance of the greatest wisdom, to cultivate a friendship and acquaintance with those, who are possessed of such virtues and good qualities as are most opposite to our own weaknesses and foibles. Are we subject to melancholy and low spirits? let our friend be a person of cheerfulness and good humour. Are we, on the other hand, too much addicted to levity and mirth? let our friend be more serious and sedate. Are we naturally hot and passionate? let us choose a friend of a cool and calm disposition.

7. Let me, therefore, beseech you, my dear Sophy, by the regard you have for your own happiness, and what, I believe, you value no less, by the regard you have for mine, to be very cautious and careful in the choice of your friend. As you have a great deal of spirit and vivacity, let her be something more compo­sed and sedate. As, I know, you are very generous and open hearted, let her be more frugal and prudent. In a word, let her possess, as much as possible, all those virtues and good qualities, which you are con­scious that you yourself most want. Your papa, your sisters and brothers, join me in wishing you all man­ner of happiness.

I am, Yours, &c. PORTIA.

LETTER XII. FROM SOPHIA TO HER MOTHER PORTIA.

Dear Mamma,

1. I HAVE all your letters on the subject of friend­ship lying by me, and have read them so fre­quently and so carefully, that, I believe, I could al­most repeat them by heart. I am greatly obliged to you for the good advice and directions you have given me, and will endeavour to conduct myself according­ly. [Page 114] I never imagined that so many qualifications were necessary to form the character of a true friend; but, upon reflection, I am fully convinced it must be so, and that every thing you have said is founded in reason and good sense.

2. There is one young lady here, and indeed but one, who seems to answer the character you have drawn. She is, I think, free from all the vices and foibles, and possessed of all the virtues and good qua­lities, which you have described. Besides, she has always taken a particular pleasure in my company and conversation, as, indeed, I have ever done in hers. We have a mutual regard and esteem for each other, which it shall not be my fault if I do not soon improve into a settled and confirmed friendship. And, what is a very lucky circumstance, she is to leave the board­ing-school, and come to town much about the same time with me, which you said would be in a few months. This, however, I don't mention from any desire of changing [...] situation sooner than you think proper; but [...] to sh [...]w you, that, by this means, I shall have [...] in my power to continue and cultivate that friendship in town, which I can only begin here.

I have no more to add, but to offer my duty to my papa and you, and my love to my sisters and brothers.

I am, dear Mamma, Your dutiful daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER XIII.

Dear Mamma,

1. I RECE [...]VED both your letters on the employ­ment of time, and cannot express how much I am oblig [...]d to you for your good and sensible advice; which you may be assured I will carefully follow.

I remember, when I was at the boarding-school. I [Page 115] fondly imagined, that, by the time I was sixteen or seventeen years of age, my education would be entire­ly finished, and I should have nothing to mind but pleasure and diversion. But what a vain and foolish conceit has it been! I find, on the contrary, that the longer I live, I have the more to learn. I cannot say that I am disappointed in this, as it gives me no pain nor uneasiness; I am rather pleased and delighted wi [...]h it, as it shews that, when we arrive at the years of discretion, we are capable of so many rational ex­ercises and employments, which we had not the least notion of, whilst we were young and inexperienced.

2. Indeed, it should seem from the conversation of my aunt, that my education is very far from being completely finished: for she says, that, besides re­viewing the several qualifications and accomplishments I have already acquired, there are many new virtues which I have still to learn. She is perpetually read­ing lectures to my cousin and me on temperance, chas­tity, modesty, humility, charity, benevolence, and I don't know how many other virtues, which, she says are the glory and ornament of the female sex. It is true, she is pleased to compliment us by saying, that we seldom transgress against any of these virtues, but alleges, at the same time, that we do not sufficiently understand their real nature and importance, nor how absolutely necessary it is to possess and practise them. [...]n order to make us happy in ourselves, and agreeable to the world.

3. Be so good, my dear mamma, as to write me your opinion of all these matters in your next. For though my aunt and you will, in all probability, be pretty much of the same way of thinking, yet I shall at least receive this one advantage from your letters, that I shall always have them by me, to consult upon occasion; and what I cannot understand or remember [Page 116] at one time, I may possibly do at another. Please to make my duty acceptable to my papa, and my love to my sister [...] and brothers.

I am, Your obliged and obedient daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER XIV. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA

My dear Sophia,

1. I RECEIVED and read your letter with great, pleasure and satisfaction. As you advance i [...] years, your sense of duty and obedience, instead of being diminished, as is too frequently the case with young people, seems rather to be heightened and in­creased. I am glad to see, that you are sensible [...] the folly and vanity of your childish fancies and ima­ginations, when you was at the boarding-school. The sense of our own folly and ignorance is the best symp­tom of our wisdom and knowledge, and the surest pledge of our further progress and improvement; but a fond conceit, and high opinion of our own wisdom and knowledge, is the most effectual bar in the way of our ever acquiring either of these excellent quali­ties. For how should she, who vainly thinks she is wise and learned enough already, ever endeavour to become more so? How should she, who fondly [...] ­agines she wants nothing, put herself to the trouble and labour of procuring what she does not want?— The truth is, a young lady, who fancies that she i [...] very wise and very learned, is likely to continue a fool and a dunce all her life.

2. What was your expectation, however, whe [...] you was at the boarding-school, is, I dare say, the expectation of ninety-nine in a hundred at that time of life; and 'tis well if they don't conduct themselves accordingly, when they arrive at what are usually [Page 117] called, and what indeed ought to be, the years of dis­cretion. 'Tis very well if they don't imagine, that they have already learned all that can or need be learn­ed; that they are now women, and accomplished too, and therefore may devote their whole time and atten­tion to dress, visiting, and diversions. But this, I would fain think, is the fate of very few; and I am confident it will never be yours: you have already giv [...]n sufficient proofs of your superior sense and pru­dence▪ [...] have already made some progress in those higher kinds of learning which are proper for a lady, and I hope you will continue to go on with the same spirit and alacrity, with which you have begun.

3. Your aunt's lectures, my dear (as you are plea­sed to call them) on temperance, chastity, modesty, humility, charity, benevolence, and the like, are ex­tremely proper and necessary. These are virtues, which it is the duty of every young lady distinctly to understand, and carefully to practise: they are, as your aunt justly observes, the glory and ornament of the female sex: they add an inexpressible grace and lustre to all our other qualifications and accomplish­ments; and without them, wit, beauty, knowledge, and learning are not only useless and insignificant, but what is still worse, pernicious and destructive.

4. A beautiful person, with a vicious mind, is no better than a painted sepulchre, fair and comely with­out, but ugly and deformed within. A wit, without humanity and good-nature, is a pest and nuisance; like a venomous wasp, or poisonous serpent, she stings and bites every one she meets, without distinction of friend or foe. And a person of knowledge and learn­ing, without humility and modesty, is generally a va [...]n, conceited, and prattling pedant.

5. On the other hand, a beautiful young lady, if she in virtuous at the same time, becomes by that means, [Page 118] at once more virtuous and more beautiful: more vir­tuous, because her temptations to vice are more fre­quent and strong; and every time she resists these temptations, she gives the most convincing proof of her untainted chastity and unspotted honour: more beautiful; for what is beauty? It is not a set of fea­tures formed with the nicest symmetry and propor­tion; it is not a complexion composed of the purest red and white: no; but it is both these informed, in­spired, lighted up, and animated by the emanations of a virtuous mind: it is chastity, modesty, good-nature, compassion, benevolence, and all the other virtuous dispositions and tender affections streaming forth from the eyes, those windows of the soul, and playing in every lineament of the face. Unless these virtuo [...] prevail in the soul, and are strongly marked and ex­pressed in the countenance, the finest features and complexion are little better than the face of a painted baby, or lifeless statue: all is dull, dead, and inani­mated; or, what is still worse, gloomy, sour, and sullen.

6. Hence the graceful blush of modesty, and the pleasing smile of good-nature, so frequently and so awkwardly affected by those who are possessed of nei­ther of these virtues, but perhaps are remarkable for the opposite vices: no matter, they are paying a com­pliment to virtue; they confess, by their hypocr [...]sy and dissimulation, that the appearance of it is amiable and lovely; and if the appearance of it be lovely, how much more must the reality be so? The truth is, virtue is the only thing that is good and amiable:— sense, wit, knowledge, and learning, are in their own nature, indifferent; they are either good or bad, just as they are well or ill employed. In the hands of a virtuous person, they may be the means of much good, in the hands of a vicious person, they may be the [Page 119] means of much ill: but, virtue, in its own nature and consequences, is certainly and infallibly productive of happiness, as well to the person possessed of it in par­ticular, as to the world in general.

7. Hence too, my dear, you will easily perceive what, I believe, you never dreamed of before, that no young lady can be beautiful without virtue. This opinion; I dar [...] say, will m [...]e you stare.—What! are there not several ladies in London, who have for­feited all title to virtue and honour, and notwithstand­ing are reckoned among the greatest beauties of the age? are courted, caressed, and almost adored, by crowds of young gentlemen. But softly, my dear, and don't be in such a hurry; allow me only to ask you a single question: what is the character of these same young gentlemen? are they men of sense, judg­ment, taste, learning, knowledge, and virtue? or, are they not rather the vain, the ignorant, the silly, and foolish, a parcel of empty coxcombs, and abandoned debauchees?

8. Why, as for that, you'll say, you can't answer. But if you cannot answer for that, my dear, how can you be sure, whether these ladies are beautiful or not? For if the young gentlemen, that admire and adore them so much, are not proper judges of beauty, all their praises and compliments go for nothing; they are but mere empty sound, without sense or meaning.

Suppose, my dear, a deaf person were to tell you, that Miss Manley had a charming voice: or a blind one, that Lady Aston had a fine complexion; would you believe them, pray? No, you'll reply; because the one having lost the sense of hearing, can be no judge of sounds; and the other, having lost the sense of seeing, can be no judge of colours: and so far you are right.

9. Now, what if I should undertake to prove that [Page 120] these young gentlem [...]n are almost as improper judges of beauty, as the deaf person is of sounds, or the blind one of colours? that they have either lost entirely, or at least greatly corrupted and depraved, those fine and delicate feelings, which alone can distinguish true and genuine beauty, from that which is false and spurious. I don't pretend, my dear, to be a philosopher, and tho I were, I know it would be extremely improper to entertain you with abstruse and refined speculations: which, perhaps, you could not understand, or, if you did, could be of no real use to you in the conduct of life. But this, I imagine, is a thing, which is obvi­ous to common sense: and, besides, it may be of ser­vice to you, as it will teach you what opinion to form of these empty fellows, and to pay no greater defer­ence to their judgment than it deserves.

10. Allow me, therefore, to ask you a few ques­tions, and you'll find that your own answers will prove the point in dispute. First of all then, my dear, do you think it possible for a person, who has lost all sense of chastity and modesty himself, to be a proper judge of the expressions of these virtues in others? 'Tis absolutely impossible!

11. For it may be affirmed in general, that every deviation from the paths of virtue, every indulgence in criminal pleasure, has a natural tendency to vitiate the taste, to corrupt the heart, and to stifle and extin­guish all the finer feelings and affections of the mind. A person immersed in sensual pleasure, grows less and less rational every day: he degenerates by quick de­grees, till at last he sinks down into a mere animal▪ and loses all relish for every thing that is virtuous, noble, and manly.

I am, my dear Sophy, Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.
[Page 121]

LETTER XV.

My dear Sophy,

1. MY time for some months past has been so en­tirely engrossed with company and business, that I have been obliged, in some measure, to inter­rupt my epistolary correspondence. But now being somewhat more at leisure, I shall resume the subject of your education.

In my two last letter, you know, I endeavoured to explain to you, as well as I could, the nature of temperance, and to convince you of the great utility and importance of that virtue. In this I shall give you my sentiments of another virtue, which is, no less, or rather, which is infinitely more necessary; nay, I will venture to say, which is the most necessary and indispensible of all others, and without which, wit, beauty, sense, knowledge, and every other female ac­complishment, are not only useless, but even perni­cious and destructive.

2. You will easily guess, my dear, that the virtue I mean is chastity, the greatest glory and ornament of our sex, and what most effectually recommends us to the love and esteem of the other. Perhaps I may be accused of indelicacy, in entertaining a lady, so very young as you are, with a discourse on such a tender subject; though, I think, the character I bear as your mother, and consequently the concern I must have for your happiness, may well free me from any imputa­tion of that kind: for I do not see how any thing can be called indelicate, which a virtuous mother can write to a virtuous daughter. Besides, as it will be allowed to be extremely difficult, and, perhaps, even impossible, to fix the precise time when a young lady should receive instructions on this head, every mother of consequence is left, in a great measure, to follow her own judgment; and, I must confess, it is my o­pinion, [Page 122] that it is much better to be a whole year too early, than one day too late: the inconveniences of the former method, if indeed there be any, are very trifling and inconsiderable; but the bad effects of the latter are always dangerous, and frequently fatal and irreparable.

3. Young as you are, my dear, you cannot be ig­norant of what I mean by the virtue of chastity: and therefore I shall observe the rules of delicacy so far, as not to explain the nature of it more particularly. Al­low me only to mention a few things, which may serve to convince you of its inestimable value; and to give you a few plain directions, by the observance of which, you may easily preserve it pure and untainted.

Whilst a young lady is possessed of this virtue, she is blessed with the approbation of her own conscience, beloved and caressed by her friends and relations, es­teemed and respected by all her acquaintance. But if, by some unlucky and fatal accident, she is once de­prived of this precious jewel, that moment she loses all inward peace and tranquility of mind; she is for­saken and abandoned by her nearest friends and rela­tions; she is despised and contemned, hissed and hoot­ed by all the world.

4. Yow know, my dear, the once happy, but now wretched Miss Grey. She was possessed of wit, beau­ty, sense, knowledge, character, and fortune, in as high a degree, as most young ladies in England; but she was—my heart bleeds when I think on her mi­serable fate—she was decoyed, deceived, and at last abandoned by a perfidious and inhuman villain. Ba­nished from her father's house, deserted by her friends, shunned by her acquaintance, and thrown on the wide world! what could she do? or whither could she go? Poverty, shame, infamy, and disgrace, in their most hideous and ugly forms, stared her in the face, and [Page 123] drove the poor desponding and distracted creature into a course of life, at the very thoughts of which she would once have shuddered with horror. Her father stript her of her fortune, the world deprived her of her character, her wit degenerated into obscenity, her beauty was changed into deformity, and her sense and knowledge served only to render her more dexterous and expert in the ways of vice and wickedness.

5. In this picture, my dear, which is as true as it is terrible, you see the dangerous and destructive con­sequences of lewdness and debauchery: tremble at the very thoughts of such an abominable vice; and learn, from the folly and misery of others, to be wise, vir­tuous, and happy yourself.

Do not imagine, my dear, that what I have now said is only my own private opinion: no; it is, and ever has been, the opinion of the wise and good, in all ages and nations of the world. In some particular countries especially, this virtue of chastity has been held in such high repute and estimation, that rather than lose it, or survive the loss of it, some have even chosen to be deprived of life itself.

6. It is reported of one Lucretia, a Roman-lady, that having been ravished by Sextus, eldest son to Tarquin, the king of that country, she took a dagger in her hand; and, after having publicly exhorted her relations to revenge her injury on the barbarous ravish­e [...], she plunged it in her bosom, at once putting an end to her life and to her disgrace. And such was the opinion which the Romans entertained of the heinous nature of this crime, as well as of the fatal consequen­ces which followed the commission of it, that the whole nation rose in arms, and not only dethroned the king, and banished the royal family, but even, if I may speak so, banished kings in general, making a decree, that, for the future, no king should ever sway [Page 124] the s [...]eptre over the Roman people, but that their go­vernment, instead of a monarchy, should thencefort [...] become a republic.

7. I dare say, my dear, you have heard the common observation, that chastity is as necessary and ornamen­tal in a woman, as courage is in a man: but, in fact, it is infinitely more so. For though perhaps a coward may be as contemptible among the men, as a prosti­tute is among the women, still there is this material difference between the two cases, that if a man loses his character for want of courage, in one instance, he may, by some extraordinary effort of valour, recover i [...] in another; but a woman's character once lost, can never be regained: like a fallen star, she sets to rise no more. Not floods of tears,—not whole years of sorrow and repentance,—not the most constant prac­tice of all the other virtues of a good life,—not even the most rigid observance of the rules of chastity for the future,—nothing will avails; they can never re­store her lost reputation, nor replace her in the rank of pure vestals.

8. And this single consideration, methinks, were i [...] but deeply impressed on the minds of young ladies, might of itself be sufficient to preserve their chastity incorrupted, and to make them tremble and shudder at the most distant apprehensions of losing a treasure, which is so precious in the possession, and so irrecover­able when lost. But, as our best and firmest resolu­tions are frequently overpowered by the strength and [...]umber of temptations, I shall point out some of the principal incentives to lewdness, which you ought carefully and constantly to avoid.

9. First of all then, my dear, let me advise you to [...]hun all kind of luxury and intemperance, which is [...]o [...]bly an enemy to this virtue of chastity. For it not [...]y inflames the blood, and raises the passions; but▪ [Page 125] at the same time, darkens and clouds the mind, and renders it less capable to resist and regulate the inferi­or appetites. It deb [...]s [...]s and corrupts the heart: it gives us too strong a relish for the pleasures of sense, and too great a disgust for those of a rational nature▪ It takes off from that purity of thought, that delicacy of sentiment, that fine sensibility, if I may speak so, which recoils and starts back at the least appearance of any thing that is gross, indecent, or immoral. But temperance has a quite contrary effect: it keeps all the inferior appetites in due subordination to the di­rection and government of reason, and preserves the faculty of reason itself clear and strong; clear, to perceive the most distant approaches of danger [...]; and strong, to repel the most violent assaults.

10. Shun likewise, my dear, with the same [...] and diligence, every thing that can offend a modest [...] or a chaste ear; all indecent pictures and representa­tions, all lewd and immodest language. Indeed the first part of this advice, it will be no easy [...] to observe; for it is a melancholy truth, that the dining and drawing rooms of many people, even sometimes of the most virtuous and religious, are adorned, or rather disgraced, with such paintings and engravings, as are fit only for houses of bad fame.

11. With regard to the other part of the advice there is no less danger. It is true, you will never hear any lewd or indecent language from the chaste and modest part of your own sex; and with such only, I hope you will converse. Nor, indeed, will you ever hear any thing of this kind from the sensible and virtuous part of the other sex; but of these how inconsiderable is the number! What a small proportion do these bear to the foolish and the vicious! to the mo [...]ley her [...] of empty fops, vain fribblers, shallow coxcombs, and abandoned rakes! who, recommended, forsooth, ei­ther [Page 126] by their rank or fortune, or supported, perhaps, by more impudence, intrude themselves into almost every company, where they [...] fall to shock and offend the chaste and delicate ear, by their lewd and immodest language. 'Tis ha [...]d to say, whether these empty fellows are most the objects of pity, contempt, or detestation.

12. These, my dear, are the pests and plagues of all genteel company, from which, therefore, they ought to be expelled and banished without form or ceremony: without regard to rank, family, fortune, or any other consi [...]eration whatever: let them first learn to behave like gentlem [...]n, and then they may [...]pect to be treated as such.

You will think, my dear, that I express myself [...] warmth and severity against th [...]se debauch­ed and [...] rake [...]; and no wonder that I do [...] for I [...] frequently been obliged myself, and I have know [...] many others obliged to leave several agreeable companies, merely to shun their rude and impertinent language.

13. Another great preservation of chastity is, care­fully to [...]tain from reading all plays, novels, or ro­mances, that have the least tendency to corrupt and debauch the heart. What those are, I will not take upon me to say; for having never read any of them myself, I don't so much as kn [...]w their names. But, as in this respect I have already advised you to con­duct yourself by the direction of your aunt, I need not be more particular.

I might mention several other methods, which are very conducive to the preservation of chastity; but these will come to be considered more properly under the article of modesty.

Before I conclude, however, let me entreat you, my dear Sophy, to implore the aid and assistance of [Page 127] Almighty God in this and in every other thing else you undertake, without which all your own endeavors will prove fruitless and ineffectual. And that he may be graciously pleased to bless you with chastity, and with all the other virtues of a good life, is the sincere prayer of,

My dear Sophy,
Your fond and affectionate mother, PORTIA.

LETTER XVI. FROM SOPHIA TO HER MOTHER PORTIA.

Dear Mamma,

1. YOUR letters on temperance and chastity I re­ceived in due course. My aunt, I believe, who carefully inspects every part of my conduct, will do me the justice to acknowledge, that I have always been pretty observant of both these virtues. The rules of temperance, I think, I have never transgressed in any material instance; and, I am sure, I never had the least inclination, nor ever discovered the least propen­sity to violate those of chastity. But, I must confess at the same time, that till the receipt of your letters, I never understood the nature of these virtues so di­stinctly, nor was so fully convinced of their great va­lue and importance. Your last letter, especially, has made such a deep impression upon my mind, that me­thinks I could now sacrifice every thing to the preser­vation of my chastity: rather than lose my honour, I would cheerfully lose my life.

2. Poor Miss Grey, mamma, I remember extreme­ly well, and had formerly heard some indistinct ac­count of her misfortune; but never knew that her condition was so deplorable and desperate as you re­present it. The short but affecting history you wrote me of her miserable fate, pierced me to the very heart, [Page 128] and made the tears gush into my eyes: I am sure I shall never forget it so long as I live.

But, my dear mamma, what I have chiefly to beg of you at present, is, that you will be so good as to write me your sentiments of the virtue of modesty, which I think you gave me some reason to expect by what you said in the close of your last letter. I am the more anxious to have your opinion of this matter, as it is a subject on which my aunt has lately lectured my cousin and me pretty severely.

3. She alleges, that we are very often faulty in this respect, but owns, at the same time, that our faults seem chiefly to proceed from ignorance. This, how­ever, she will not allow to be a sufficient apology; for though ignorance, she says, be less criminal than impudence, yet it is far from being excusable in young ladies of our age and education. Besides, she assures us, the world will be more apt to impute such faults to want of modesty than to want of sense; for that, when the same action may proceed from different mo­tives, few people have the humanity and good nature to ascribe it to the best. Please to give my duty to my papa, and my kind love to my sisters and brothers. My aunt presents her compliments to you and the rest of the family.

I am, my dear mamma, Your dutiful daughter, SOPHIA.

LETTER XVII. FROM PORTIA TO HER DAUGHTER SOPHIA.

My dear Sophy,

1. YOUR last letter, which I received a few weeks ago, gave me the greatest satisfaction. I was particularly pleased to hear you express such a noble resolution of preserving your chastity pure and untaint­ed. May God Almighty assist you in this, and in ev­ery [Page 129] other virtuous undertaking. Agreeably to my own promise, and in compliance with your desire, I shall now give you my sentiments of modesty, and some other female virtues. Modesty, my dear, is the outward expression of a pure and chaste mind: and therefore, every w [...] you speak, every action you perform, every gesture of your body, every look of your eyes, every part of your dress; in fine, every thing, by which the inward dispositions of the mind can be expressed and discovered, comes under the re­gulation of this virtue.

2. Modesty, as it relates to dress, has already been considered under that article: as it relates to conver­sation, it has been, in some measure explained, in treating of that and the subject of chastity. After the advice I then gave you, to shun the lewd and immo­dest conversation of others, it would certainly be un­necessary to use any other arguments to dissuade you from running into the same error yourself. There is something in this practice so base and vulgar, as well as so, indecent and abominable, that I will not even suppose you capable of a thing at once so unpolite and immoral.

3. But, my dear, modesty regards not only the mat­ter of your conversation, but also the manner of it; not only what you say, but likewise how you say it. And, indeed, this is such an essential part of modesty, that it frequently appears more visibly in the manner of expressing a thing than in the nature of the thing itself. There is Lady Langley; she returns thanks for a favour, and to people as good as herself too, with such a careless and indifferent, and sometimes indeed with such a haughty and overbearing air, that a by­stander, who only observes her manner, would be apt to conclude, that she was rather bestowing one upon some of her dependants, or giving orders to her foot­man: [Page 130] whilst Miss Boo [...]hby, on the other hand, even bestows a favour with that engaging and winning ad­dress, with that humility and condescension, that one wo [...]ld really imagine, she was rather receiving, than conferring an obligation.

4. Nothing, my dear, is [...] inconsistent with modesty, than to talk with a loud, shrill, and harsh tone of voice. This is very unbecoming even in a man, but much more in a woman, and most of all in a young woman, whose accent should be low, smooth and gentle, an emblem of the inward softness and de­licacy of her mind. It is no less inconsistent with the rules of modesty, to talk in a positive and peremptory strain. This is scarce tolerable, even when you are talking of things that cannot be contradicted; but i [...] absolutely intolerable, when you are speaking of mat­ters that are of a doubtful nature, as indeed most sub­jects of conversation are. 'Tis the duty of a young lady to talk with an air of diffidence, as if she propo­sed what she said, rather with a view to receive infor­mation herself, than to inform and instruct the com­pany.

5. Modesty, as it regards the countenance, and es­pecially the expression of the eyes, is no less worthy of your attention, because, perhaps, it appears more in this than in any one thing whatever. Young as you are, my dear, you cannot be ignorant, that all the different passions of the mind may be painted and expressed in the countenance. Anger and meekness, joy and sorrow, love and hatred, pride and humility, impudence and modesty, have each a particular air of the face, naturally adapted to express them; and what­ever passion happens to be uppermost in the mind, the countenance will take its [...] and complexion from thence. Thus joy is expressed by a pleasing smile, sorrow by a dejected look, pride by a superci­lious [Page 131] frown, humility by an unassuming air, impu­dence by a wanton glance, modesty by a chastifed mien, and so of the rest. And though I am no great friend to physi [...]gnomy, or the judging of people's characters by their looks, yet, I believe, there is something in it. Tho I know the face is sometimes a false glass, still I am persuaded it is as often, and much oftener, a true one; and that the countenance is frequently a faithful picture of the mind.

6. In a word, my dear (for I must repeat it to you again) the only way to have a modest look, a modest gait, or a modest behaviour in general, is to have a modest mind. Without this, all the formality, gra­vity, and grimace in the world, will signify nothing: for, though by this means you may be able to impose upon the thoughtless and ignorant, yet the sensible and judicious observer will always see through the mask, and perhaps but despise you the more for your hypo­critical solemnity. But, my dear, do not mistake me, While I advise you to be modest, I do not advise you to be sheepish and bashful; far from it. Modesty and sheepishness, however alike they may be in appear­ance, are as different in their nature, as any two things can well be. A modest person will not talk too much or too high in company, because she knows it is im­proper: a sheepish person will hardly talk at all, or at least not so as to be understood, because she is afraid. A modest person looks with a decent assurance: a sheepish one is abashed, and blushes at she don't know what. A modest person will never contradict the ge­neral taste of the company, unless it be inconsistent with decency and good manners: a sheepish person will hardly contradict it, even when it is. The one acts from principle, the other from mere instinct: the one is guided by the rules of right reason, and there­fore is consistent in her conduct: the other is guide [...] [Page 132] by no rules at all, and consequently has no uniformi­ty of character.

7. This sheepishness naturally leads to, and com­monly ends in, a kind of false modesty, which is such an extreme degree of complaisance, such a yielding sostness of nature, as is not able to refuse any thing. A person of this character has no choice of her own: she resigns her own judgment, and is content to be di­rected by the judgment, or rather by the humour and caprice, of other people. When any thing is propo­sed, she never examines whether it be reasonable, but only whether it be fashionable; and if it is, she is satisfied: she asks no more: she will comply with it, let the consequence be what it will. She is ashamed to refuse any thing that is fashionable, however vi­cious; or to do any thing that is unfashionable, how­ever virtuous. Should it ever become unfashionable to go to church, or to be obedient to parents, or even to observe the rules of modesty, it is ten to one but she would be ashamed to perform any of these duties; so that, from an excess of modesty, she perhaps might be tempted to violate the laws of modesty itself.

8. Let me, therefore, advise you, my dear Sophy, carefully to guard against false modesty, which is one of the greatest enemies of virtue, and perhaps has be­trayed young people into as many vices as the most a­bandoned impudence. Never be so extremely modest as to comply with any thing that is bad, how much soever it may be in vogue; nor ever be ashamed to follow what is good, however singular and uncommon. True modesty, my dear, is meant to be the preserver, not the betrayer of your virtue: it will be a kind of guard and protection to your chastity; it will secure you from the rudeness and impertinence of the impu­dent and abandoned part of the other sex. There is such a dignity and majesty in a modest behaviour, as [Page 133] never fails to command respect: it confounds and a­bashes even the most profligate, and makes them either ashamed or afraid of giving vent to their low and ob­scene ribaldry, when they are sure it will be received with a blush or a frown, with contempt or aversion.

9. After all, my dear, I don't mean to recommend to you a stiff, formal, and precise behaviour, no: this is not modesty; it is prudery, which is as far re­moved from modesty on the one hand, as coquetry is on the other. Modesty does not need any foreign gloss to set it off: it appears most amiable in its own native colours. The prude affects an appearance of more modesty than she really has: the coquette affects an appearance of less. The former will not probably gain credit: the latter certainly will: The prude will not be believed to possess so much modesty as she pretends to, perhaps not even so much as she actually has: the coquette will readily be allowed to have no more than she seems, and possibly even less. Since she is so very anxious to convince the world, that she has little regard for modesty, the world, if she pleas­es, will be so complaisant, as to believe that she has none at all; whereas they will punish the presump­tion of the prude, for putting on the appearance of more modesty than she has, by even suspecting the reality of what she actually possesses.

10. The prude is so extremely nice and delicate, that she is offended at every thing: the coquette is so very easy and indifferent, that she is offended at no­thing. The prude startles at the most innocent ex­pressions, as rude and indecent: the coquette hears what are really the most rude and indecent, without any concern. The prude has frequently a grave and demure look, when her heart is light and cheerful: the coquette has frequently a gay and sprightly coun­tenance, when her heart is heavy and sorrowful. The [Page 134] prude is often silent when she ought to speak: the coquette often speaks, when she ought to be silent. The prude frequently stays at home, when her heart is at the play or opera: the coquette frequently goes to the play or opera, when her heart is at home. In a word, the prude studies to be singular; the coquette to be fashionable: the former wants to pass for a la­dy of the most rigid virtue; the latter for an agreeable companion. The prude despises the coquette as a giddy fool: the coquette laughs at the prude as a con­ceited hypocrite; and the lady of true modesty pities them both, as well meaning, perhaps, but mistaken creatures. And objects of pity they certainly are;— for their error proceeds rather from the weakness of their heads, than the badness of their hearts.

11. The one imagines, that a prude is the most ri­diculous character in the world, and that therefore the farther she is from it, so much the better; the other thinks the character of a coquette still more contempt­ible, and endeavours to shun it with the same care. Hence the one naturally becomes a coquette, and the other a prude; not so much from a love to the cha­racter they have assumed, as from a hatred to the cha­racter they have avoided. Thus, like all fools, while they fly from one vice, they run into its opposite, ne­ver remembering, that in this, as in most other cases, virtue lies in the golden mean; that modesty is the mid­dle point between coquetry and prudery, both of which are equally ridiculous and contemptible.

12. But, my dear, though the prude and the co­quette be characters equally ridiculous, still, it mu [...] be acknowledged, they are not equally dangerous.— The prude has at least the appearance of modesty but the coquette has not even that: and though ther [...] may be an appearance of virtue, where there is no re­ality; yet 'tis hardly possible there can be any reality [Page 135] where there is no appearance, or (what is worse) where there is an appearance of vice: at least the world will always judge so, because it is only by ap­pearances they can judge.

Hence it is, that a prude frequently preserves her reputation, after having lost her innocence; whilst a coquette sometimes preserves her innocence after she has lost her reputation. Besides, the coquette is ex­posed to many temptations, from which the prude is, in a great measure, free. The behaviour of the prude keeps the men at a proper distance; the behaviour of the coquette admits, and even invites them to impro­per familiarities▪ and how very dangerous these fami­liarities are, is more easily conceived than expressed: indeed it is from this quarter that our greatest danger arises, as perhaps I may take occasion to shew you in some other letter.

13. But, though the prude be exposed to fewer dan­gers than the coquette, still she is exposed to some, and to many more than she would be, were she but simply and unaffectedly modest. For, as the world sees that her modesty is partly counterfeit, they will be apt to conclude that it is entirely so, and that it is assumed only to save appearances; and, upon this sup­position, many attempts will be made on her virtue, which never would have been made, but for her pru­dery and affectation. And, from a general review of the history of our sex, I imagine, it will appear, that the arts of designing and deceitful men have ruined as many prudes as coquettes; and that almost all those who have been thus ruined, have been remarkable for one or other of these foibles.

14. Let me therefore advise you, my dear Sophy, carefully to shun both these characters, as they are not only ridiculous, but (what is still worse) as they are dangerous. Never affect an appearance of great­er [Page 136] gaiety on the one hand, nor of greater solemnity on the other, than true and unaffected modesty requires. Endeavour to possess your mind with a deep sense and a sincere love of this virtue, and then look and act as nature directs. This, in my opinion, is the only in­fallible method of having a modest deportment. With­out this, indeed, your behaviour may be composed, sedate, formal, ceremonious, and what not; but it can never be truly and unaffectedly modest.

I ever am, my dear Sophy, Your affectionate mother, PORTIA.

CARDS OF COMPLIMENT. Compositions of this kind should be short, plain, and polite: —Cards of compliment must contain but one subject▪ and that should be expressed with elegance and propriety.
EXAMPLES.

1. MISS SALLY SOCIABLE, presents her compli­ments to Miss MARY STUDIOUS, and begs leave to wait on her to-morrow evening, at 7 o'clock, to repeat and compare their exercises previous to their examination.

Wednesday-noon.

2. Miss MARY STUDIOUS returns her compli­ments to Miss SALLY SOCIABLE, and acquaints her that she with pleasure accepts of her laudable propo­sal; having always received much satisfaction and im­provement in her agreeable company, shall therefore expect her at tho hour proposed; or an earlier period if agreeable.

Wednesday Evening.

3. Miss SMITH's respectful compliments to Miss SPLENDID; intreats the honour of her company this afternoon to a dish of tea.

Thursday Noon.

[Page 137]4. Miss SPLENDID's compliments to Miss SMITH; is happy to accept her polite invitation.

Thursday Noon.

5. Mrs. ALAMODE's compliments to Miss WEAL­THY: hopes she got safe home, and is in health, after the fatigue of sitting up so late.

Friday Morning.

6. Miss WEALTHY's compliments to Mrs. ALA­MODE; got home quite safe, and is perfectly well; returns respectful thanks for her obliging inquiries.

Friday Morning.

7. Miss PEGGY PRUDENT presents respectful com­pliments to Miss HARRIET HEIRESS; acquaints her that Messrs A. B. and C. together with Misses S. L. and herself are going to see the Museum and Wax-work, on Wednesday evening next; the Ladies and Gentlemen both are desirous that Miss H. might be one of the party; and hopes if she is disengaged, that she will honor them with her agreeable company.

Monday Morning.

8. Miss H. returns respectful compliments to Miss PRUDENT, thanks her for her kind invita [...]ion; and begs she will be so obliging as to acquaint the Ladies and Gentlemen, that she (Miss H.) thinks herself highly honored in the polite attention paid her by so respectable a circle, shall certainly do herself the plea­sure of accompanying them.

Monday Noon.

9. Misses NANCY and BETSY SPRIGHTLY pre­sents compliments to Misses LUCY and LYDIA LIGHTFOOT; and acquaints them that they would [Page 138] be extremely happy of the pleasure of their company to Mr. Mitchill's Ball—on Thursday next; Messrs. A. and B. will accompany us, and your friend Mr. S. says, that he will be there likewise.

Tuesday Noon.

10. Misses LIGHTFOOT, have received Misses SPRIGHTLY's card, and with pleasure accept their polite invitation. Having always enjoyed much sa­tisfaction at Mr. M's balls: Hopes the Misses SPRIGHTLY will honor them with their company to Mr. Hulett's ball next month.

Tuesday Noon.

BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCHES, AND ANECDOTES OF EMINENT WOMEN.

An account of Miss D. Schlozer, a celebrated learned Lady of Han [...]ver, who was thought worthy of the highest Academical honors, in the University of Got­tengen, at the grand jubilee, in the year 1787.

1. DOROTHY SCHLOZER, is the daughter of Augustus Lewis Schlozer, professor of Phi­losophy in the University of Gottengen, and well known as an able politician and historian. She was born August 10, 1770, and in her earliest years, dis­covered an uncommon share of understanding, which has been since improved by extraordinary application. Her father encouraged perhaps by the success he met with in the care of the education of his present Lady, whom he instructed when only eight years of age, hath had the sole direction of her studies. The pro­gress she made in her infancy was very rapid. She soon learned to articulate, and at the age of two years and eight months, was taught low German, a lan­guage almost foreign to her own, and plain needle [Page 139] work. Soon afterwards she began the French, not by burthening her infant mind with Grammar rules, but by habituating her to converse with a female ser­vant a native of France, whom her mother engaged for that purpose.

2. In her fifth year she was taught to read German in its present purity, by books composed for her amuse­ment by her father. When she was only five years and a quarter old, she received some lessons in Geometry. This deviating from the common way of commencing with arithmetic; but her father wished to try the ex­periment, and succeded so well, that in a fortnight's time, before she had received ten lessons, she was able to answer very difficult questions. Her progress in the acquirement of modern languages was really a­stonishing.

3. She soon learned both to read and speak English, Italian, Swedish and Dutch. Having taken a jour­ney with her father to Rome; in less than five months she was able to talk Italian as fluently as her native tongue—According to the evidence of the Abbe Denina in his Lettere Brandenburghen, printed at Berlin in 1786. Besides her knowledge of languages, she ap­plied them to their proper uses, and made herself ac­quainted with almost every branch of polite literature. Her father has not confined her to the study of any sci­ence in particular, but she has been led by choice to pay the greatest attention to the Mathematics.

4. Miss Schlozer, though highly celebrated for her erudition, does not neglect what are esteemed the first female accomplishments. She plays upon the harpsicord, and sings with as much taste as she draws and works.

Her person is pleasing, and her dress as unaffected­ly easy as her deportment. Her knowledge of histo­ry, and other literary acquirements render her very [Page 140] agreeable in company, for she has too much good-na­ture to be reserved, and too much sense to be pre­suming.

5. Her surprising talents and accomplishments be­coming the general topic of conversation, she was proposed by the great Orientalist, Michaelis, as a pro­per subject for Academical honors. The philosophi­cal faculty, of which Professor Michaelis is dean, was judged to be the fittest, and the 25th of August was fixed upon, at her own request, for examination. The examination was held at the Dean's house, in the presence of the Professors—Kaestner, Neyne, Gatterer, Meister, Feder, and Kulenkamp.

6. She was introduced by Michaelis himself, and distinguished as a lady, with the highest seat.

7. Several questions were first proposed to her in mathematics, all of which she answered to their sa­tisfaction.—After this she gave a free translation of the thirty-seventh ode of the first book of Horace, and explained it. The examination lasted from five o'clock till half past seven, when she was desired to withdraw for a few minutes, and in her absence unanimously pronounced worthy of the degree of Doctor of Philo­sophy!

8, When she was desired to return, and received the hearty congratulations of her examiners, she thanked them for the honor, and told them, she fear­ed it was conferred too early; but that she hoped to be deserving of it in five years time As soon as she was declared successful, Miss Michaelis, one of the Professor's daughters, presented her with a wreath of laurel, with which, at the request of the Professors, she returned crowned, to her father. Her degree was publicly conferred in the University Church, and her Diploma presented to her, on the grand day of the jubilee, September 17, 1787.

UNI-A.
[Page 141]

From the ITALIAN MERCURY. SINGULAR ACCOUNT OF A FEMALE SURGEON.

OUR City (Naples) has lately been witness to a very singular phenomenon in the History of li­terature. A female underwent a public examination, before all the College of Physicians and Surgeons; and to the surprise of every one, proved superior to all expectations. This extraordinary Lady is Mrs. Ma­ria Ferrer [...]ri, of Bagna [...]v [...]llo, who desirous of render­ing herself useful to mankind, and especially to many of her own sex, who often through, perhaps too great modesty, but natural to female education, fall victims to their own delicacy, has applied herself with such assiduity to the study of surgery, that, in the space of a year, she has enabled herself to add to science, to her sex, and to her country, an honor and advantage, of which, in the present manner of bringing up fe­male youths, it will be difficult to find out another example.

LIFE OF MADAME DU CHATELET.

1. GABRIELLA-EMILA, Marchioness du Cha­telet, was descended from a very ancient fa­mily, of Picardy. She was the daughter of the Baron de Breteuil, introducer of foreign Princes and Ambas­sadors at court, and was born on the 17th of Decem­ber, 1706. At a very early age she displayed great strength of genius, and vivacity of imagination. She shewed a peculiar fondness for the Belles Lettres, and deuoted great part of the early period of her life to the study of the ancients. Virgil, above all, was her favorite author. She applied also to the foreign lan­guages; and, in a little time, made herself so far ac­quainted with the English and Italian, as to be able to translate Milton and T [...]sso, with ease.

[Page 142]2. Madame du Chatelet, however, did not confine herself to the study of the Belles Letters. Metaphy­sics and Mathematics were objects also of her pursuit; and Leibnitz, a philosopher equally profound and in­genious, was the guide whom she chose to direct her in this new path. By close application, she was soon enabled to write an explanation of that celebrated German's Philosophy, under the title of "Institutions of Physics," which she composed pri [...]cipally for the use of the Count Chatelet-Lelomont, her son:— Among other things she requests him to attend to the early improvement of his mind—"You must accus­tom your mind early, says she, to think; and to find resources in itself; you will be sensible, throughout life, what comfort and consolation arises from study; and you will even see that it can afford pleasure and delight."

3. Madame du Chatelet had too much judgment, and was too ardent in the pursuit of truth to dwell long on the Chimeras of metaphysics; she readily quitted, therefore, the imaginations of Leibnitz, in order to giue herself up to the clean and perspicuous doctrines of Newton. Having by close application, gained a complete knowledge of that eminent Philosopher's principles, she undertook the arduous task of making a translation of them from the original Latin, into French, which published, with an admirable com­mentary, and by this enterprize rendered an essential service to science; This commentary, which is far superior to the translation, is composed of two parts, and is preceded by a short history of Astronomy, from Pythagorus to the present time.

When we reflect on the dryness of the subject, and the little analogy it has with the delicacy and vivacity of the fair sex, we cannot help admiring the abilities of the Authoress, and calling to mind the following [Page 143] lines, which a French philosopher addressed to her, in epistle on Newton's Philosophy.

"Spite of those pleasures which too oft engage,
"The youthful mind, unguarded yet by age,
"How could you soar, and with so vast a flight,
"Great Newton follow, and ye [...] follow right?"

4. Madame du Chatelet's manners were no less es­timable than her talents. Though formed by her figure, her rank, and her knowledge, to be distin­guished from the greater part of those among whom she lived, she seemed never to be sensible of those ad­vantages which she enjoyed. She was fond of glory without ostentation. A woman, who has no other merit than that of being learned, is certainly wanting in her duty to society: No reproach of this kind can be justly thrown out against Madame du Chatelet, on this head. Her fondness for books never made her forget what she owed to her family; she did not think it below her, to enter into all those details which are required in the management of a family. Instead of delighting in slander, or ridicule, she often became the advocates of those who in her presence, were made the object of either.

She died at Lunneville, in the year 1749, some time after she had been delivered of a child.—She was a member of several foreign academies.

N. B. How forcibly do the foregoing authentic sketches of Female Biography, confute the sneering sophistry of Chesterfield? And other invidious detrac­tors of Female Genius!

ENTERTAINING and MORAL DIALOGUES, Partly Original.

OF all the methods made use of to convey instruc­tion and useful knowledge into the minds of youth, it is thought by many of the learned, that Di­alogues [Page 144] appear the most proper and rational, as well as the most easy and pleasant to young minds—being both familiar and expressive, and admirably adapted to draw and fix the attention of youth.

DIALOGUE I. Shewing how a young Lady may make every one love her: between Miss JENNET and Miss HARRIET.

Jennet.

What is the reason that every one is so fond of Miss Mary?

Harriet.

Because she is a polite, good natured girl, and loves to oblige every body.

J.

Now, I fancy it is because she is a pretty girl.

H.

No, that cannot be the reason; there is Miss A—, is as pretty a girl as she, and yet nobody loves he [...] because she is not obliging.

J.

I wish every body would love me as well as Miss Mary.

H.

Why, so they will, if you endeavour to be as polite and accomplished as her.

J.

What shall I do to be so?

H.

Why, you must in the first place be a very good girl:—that is, you must love your book and your nee­dle better than play; and keep company with none but such as do the same:—you must take pleasure in reading the histories of eminent women, and endea­vour to imitate them in those qualities by which they justly acquired the approbation of the public:—You must strive to obtain a competent stock of useful knowledge; to read properly; to write with accura­cy—In short, you must love and serve God with all your heart, and do all the good you can to mankind.

J.

This is all about learning and moral duties, but what else must I do to gain the esteem of my friends and others?

H.

You must never be peevish nor out of humour; [Page 145] but alwa [...] cheerful, good natured and pleasant, and this will gain you the character of an agreeable gen­teel girl.

J.

That I should like very much; but is there any thing else necessary for me to do?

H.

Why, there is one thing more that will be ve­ry agreeable, and make every body love and admire you, and that is good manners.

J.

What is good manners?

H.

It is to behave yourself with propriety at all times: when in company, you should behave in a modest, respectful and becoming manner:—and, by all means avoid an unbecoming forwardness, and a sil­ly bashfulness; if you incline to the former, well-bred people will call you a saucy minx; and should you unhappily possess too great a share of the latter, I mean, an aukward bashfulness; the world will con­clude that you are deficient in two of the necessary qualifications of an accomplished woman, namely— good sense and good manners, I need not inform you, that it is necessary you should enter and leave a room, in a becoming manner, by making an easy, genteel, but not a formal courtesy.

J.

Ah, now I think of it, Miss Mary does all these things; and I suppose that is the reason why every body loves her.

H.

To be sure it is.

J.

Well, I shall endeavour to behave as handsome­ly as her; and then I hope I shall be as well beloved.

H.

Certainly you will.

DIALOGUE II. On a proud and haughty carriage towards inferiors, be­tween Miss FANNY and Miss NANCY.

Fanny.

I am very glad to see you: I have bee wishing for you all the afternoon.

Nancy.
[Page 146]

I thought I saw a little girl with you: I hope I have not sent her away.

F.

O, that is only a neighbour's daughter, that I let come and play with me sometimes, when I am a­lone. I do not mind sending her away.

N.

Nay, but pray let her come again; I would not have her go upon my account; she will be angry perhaps.

F.

So let her, if she will, I don't care: for, to tell you the truth, I don't love she should come; but my papa has some acquaintance with her father and mo­ther, and he says they are very good people, and she is a pretty civil child, so will have her here often:— but, they are poor folks, and I don't think her fit company for me. However, as to affronting her I cannot easily do it; for if I could, I should have done it long ago.

N.

Fanny, I am loth to be always finding fault with you; but you took what I said last time to you so well, that I would fain hope I shall not offend you if I am free in speaking again.

F.

No, Nancy, I will not be angry; for I am sure you speak to me for my good.

N.

Then indeed, Fanny, I am truly sorry to see so much of a haughty temper, as you have discovered towards this child; you know pride is very unbecom­ing in any person, as well as sinful.

F.

I am not proud, not I: but I think it is beneath a gentleman's daughter to keep company with such poor children.

N.

Then I can assure you, I very often act beneath myself, as you call it; for there's Flora—I suppose you know her; don't you?

F.

Yes, I think her father is a tradesman, and her mother keeps a small shop in the same house, I be­lieve I bought some ribbons there, is not that her you mean?

N.
[Page 147]

Yes, 'tis her; and I can assure you, some of the most pleasant hours I spend, is in that girl's com­pany.

F.

I cannot tell what you admire in her, indeed, Nancy, I thought you had a better taste, I know her by sight only.

N.

You know her only by sight: and the plain though decent appearance she makes, renders her contemptible in your estimation; but I know her by intimate acquaintance; and a handsome carriage, good temper, wit, and above all, her goodness, renders her an agreeable companion to me, at all times.

F.

I do not know what she may be, but, in gen­eral, I hope you'll allow it most proper to keep com­pany with such as ourselves.

N.

Yes, I grant 'tis best, when we can to have such for our intimates; on this account, because we are most likely to learn of them a behavior suitable to the rank in which we are placed. But then, when we are with those that are below us, in point of for­tune, we should treat them with a great deal of ci­vility and kindness; which by your own account you have not this child we were speaking of.

F.

I am civil enough to her, I think. Surely you would not have me behave to her in all respects, as if she was a rich man's daughter; would you?

N.

I would have you behave towards her as a crea­ture of the same rank of beings as yourself: and as consi­dering, that it is God alo [...]e who made a difference in the outward circumstances of your parents and her's: but pray, before we go any further, what are her pa­rents? For I thought by the glimpse I had of her she looked pretty well dressed.

F.

Her father wae designed for a lawyer, and I be­lieve had a liberal education; but his father through unavoidable misfortunes, not being able to maintain [Page 148] him till he got into business, he was compelled to seek for maintenance in another way, which brings him in scarcely enough to keep them. As to her dress, in­deed she generally goes neat enough: for her mother was a gentleman's daughter, and she endeavors to have her make as genteel an appearance as she can, with what she has, which is chiefly what her mother pro­cures from her own relations.

N.

Well, Fanny, now I think you more to blame, than I did before I heard this part of your story.

F.

Why so, pray?

N.

Because, for aught I can find, she came of as good a family as you or I.

F.

What if she did? I tell you they are very poor now.

N.

Then, according to your notion, I understand, if my papa should lose his money, and grow poor, you would not care to keep me company any longer.

F.

Yes, indeed, I should, Nancy. Why should you entertain such a thought of me?

N.

Nay, I can think no otherwise, by what you say yourself. At first I thought you only meant, that you did not like to keep company with the ordinary set of children; but now I find, the chief of your ob­jections lies in their parents not having just so much money as yours, and not being able to keep them so fine. Now I would only have you consider how you would like it, supposing your papa should lose the most of what he has, as many opulent men have done, (by the unavoidable changes in life) if you found your­self slighted and despised on that account, and thought unfit company for any of your old acquaintance: what think you of it Fanny, make the case your own?

F.

I must confess I should think it very hard.

N.

Then I hope you will see reason to alter both your opinion and conduct, and beware of such a tem­per [Page 149] and behaviour for the future: for Solomon has told us, that pride goes before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall. And so changeable and uncertain is eve­ry thing in this world, that we know not how soon we who make so great a figure, through our parents p [...]osperity, may by their death or losses, be reduced to as low or perhaps much lower condition, than this child is in now; and she may, by providence, be raised to the height from which we fell. My mamma has frequently told me of such instances, to teach me humility, and guard me against a vain boasting of what I at present enjoy.

F.

I am fully convinced of the reasonableness of your discourse, and hope my dear Nancy, that I will think of and endeavor to follow your friendly advice.

DIALOGUE III. On reading the Scriptures, between Miss AMELIA and Miss LUCINDA.

Amelia.

I came to play with you Lucinda, this afternoon, if I may.

Lucinda.

Yes, Amelia, why should you question it? For I am very glad to see you, and my mamma is happy to have you here.

A.

I was afraid you had a task to learn, because I saw you with a book in your hand; that made me say so.

L.

No, I was not getting any thing; I was only reading a chapter to myself.

A.

You love reading better than I do; for I think I have read enough at school; I do not love to read at home too.

L.

Not love to read the word of God, Amelia! 'tis strange indeed if you do not.

A.

Yes, I like well enough to read it, but not at school, and at home too.

L.
[Page 150]

I read at school as well as you: but I generally read a chapter to papa or mamma besides, and some­times to myself.

A.

If you like to read so much it is nothing to me; but I really think you have no occasion for it, for you can read better than I.

L.

No, I cannot; but that's not the chief thing I read at home for.

A.

No! I thought what all children read their books for was to learn.

L.

Pray what do other people read for? don't your papa and mamma too read the bible?

A.

Yes, but they read it to mind the sense, which is none of our business till we are bigger.

L.

O dear Amelia, do not speak so! What is it none of our business to know what God has said to us in his holy word?

A.

No, till we are older; for we cannot properly understand it yet; at least I cannot; I don't know what you may do.

L.

Yes, you and I too are capable of understand­ing something of it, if we read it carefully; nay there is my little cousin, Sally, who is not above nine years old, will often give her mamma an account of what she has been reading at school; if 'tis any pretty story will tell her most of it.

A.

Why, are there any pretty stories in the bible? I love pretty stories dearly; but never found any en­tertaining ones there.

L.

No! that's strange indeed! you might well say you did not understand what you read; but the reason is because you did not mind.

A.

Yes, I did mind, or else how could I learn to read?

L.

You mind to read the words right; but, I find, not all what you are reading about.

A.
[Page 151]

No, indeed; that's true: for I always thought 'twas what I knew nothing of. But what are the stories about? I should like to mind them.

L.

I am truly sorry to see you so ignorant, Amelia. Were you never taught who was saved in the Ark, &c.

A.

Yes, I was taught these and many other ques­tions, when I was a little child, and was in the pri­mer.

L.

Well, and do not you remember reading these stories, when you was in the beginning of Genesis?

A.

No, indeed, I don't; are they there?

L.

Yes, and towards the latter end is all the enter­taining story of Joseph that his brethren sold into Egypt.

A.

O, I remember that was in these questions; and there was one about Daniel's being put into the lion's den: is that in the bible too?

L.

Yes that is in the 6th Chapter of Daniel; and in the 3d Chapter is the story of the three men in the fie­ry furnace.

A.

I'll look for these stories, and read them▪ But pray tell me what others there are?

L.

There are so many that I cannot tell you a quarter of them. In the new testament, the first five books are full of pretty ones.

A.

What are they about?

L.

I hope Amelia, your mamma has told you, that Jesus Christ the son of God, came into the world to save sinners, that he was born of the Virgin Mary; that whilst he lived here, he performed a great many miracles, made the blind to see, the deaf to hear, the lame to walk, and even raised the dead to life.

A.

I do not know; if she has I have forgotten them. Is all this in the new testament?

L.

Yes, as also how Christ was put to death on [Page 152] a cross; how he rose again in three days, and after­wards ascended into heaven.

A.

Well, I believe I shall love to read these stories; I'll read some every day, and pay more attention to what is read at school.

L.

Pray do; and I am sure you will be pleased with them: but I will not keep you any longer in talk about this; come we'll go to play, if you please, and have a little more discourse the next time I see you.

DIALOGUE IV. Reflections on reading the Scriptures, between Miss CHARLOTTE and Miss KATY.

Charlotte,

You see Katy, I have soon returned your visit, and am glad to find you employed as you found me.

Katy.

Yes, Charlotte, I have been reading some stories every day since I was with you; I am happy you advised me to it; for I have been mightily pleas­ed with them.

C.

So, I thought you would, when you said you loved stories; and I hope you will consider what use you are to make of them, for it is with that design they were written for our instruction.

K.

Dear Charlotte, I must beg you to tell me how I must do that, for I do not know but I shall be wil­ling to learn whatever you shall teach me; for I find that you have been better instructed and know a great deal more than myself.

Ch.

That I have had good instructions, I must own for my papa, and mamma, has taken a great deal of pains with me, but to my shame may I speak it, I know but little; however, I shall be very willing to tell you any thing I do know. And as to what I was speaking of, my papa has often put me when I have read a story to him on thinking what I was to learn out of it, that was particularly suitable to me.

K.
[Page 153]

Pray make this a little plainer to me, for I con­fess I do not well understand you.

Ch.

I will, if I can. Tell me what story you have been reading lately, Katy, and we'll see what we are to learn from that; and then you will know what I mean.

K.

I was reading in the 2d book of Kings, chap­ter 2d, about the chiildren that mocked the Prophet Elisha, and how two she bears came out of the wood, and forty-two of them.

Ch.

That is a very remarkable story indeed; what did you think when you read it?

K.

I thought they were very wicked children; and God shewed how angry he was with them, by letting the bears kill them.

Ch.

That was a very good thought: do yu remem­ber what they said?

K.

Yes, Go up the [...] [...]ld head; Go up thou bald head!

Ch.

Well, and wh [...] made it so wicked in them to say so? For it is to be thought, it was true that the Prophet was bald.

K.

I suppose it was because they spake it to deride and mock him; did they not?

Ch.

Yes, to be sure they did. They could not think what to say to express their scorn and contempt of this holy man; and so mocked him on account of a natu­ral defect, which he could not help. And sure, this should be a caution to all children for the future, ne­ver to express their contempt of others, by mention­ing any natural, or accidental infirmity or defect.

K.

I did not think of this use of the story before; but, as you say, it is indeed a very common thing, when we would show our spite against any, to call them crooked, hump backed, bald headed, one eyed, and flat nosed, or whatever other imperfections they [Page 154] may have; which this story fully convinceth me is wrong, and very cruel, and displeasing to God.

Ch.

It is indeed; and as my papa told me, when I read it to him, I should consider, that it is both fool­ish and wicked: it is very base and silly to reflect on any one, for what he cannot help; and it is truly wicked, as it is indeed reflecting on God himself who made us all, and, for wise reasons, only known to him, permitted those defects in nature, or suffered those accidents to befall them, by which they came: and the dreadful lot of these children, methinks, should be enough to check us, whenever we find any inclination, so much as to entertain a thought of this nature; much rather ought we to turn our minds to thankfulness and praise to our beneficent God, who has formed us so perfect, and preserved us from being maimed and deformed by sad disasters.

K.

Dear Charlotte, I am greatly obliged to you, for giving me those instructions; and as I have not the advantages of learning as you have, I hope you will be so good as to tell me a little more the next time that I have the happiness of conversing with you.

Ch.

That I will most readily: and if you should ask me any thing I do not know, I will pray papa, or mamma, to tell me; and do, my dear, come and see me as often as you please; that so we may instruct each other.

DIALOGUE V. On DEATH, between Miss NANCY and her Mamma.

Mamma.

Well, Nancy, where have you been ram­bling?

Nancy.

I have been walking in the church yard, Mamma, and reading the epitaphs upon the grave­stones, till I am almost tired.

M.

But your eyes look red, child, what have you been crying for?

N.
[Page 155]

Why, Mamma, I saw several graves that must have been made for children, that were about my size, and are now, very probably, reduced to dust; and I could not help reflecting with myself, that this might have been my case, as well as poor Miss Anthony's, the sight of whose grave, as one of my late dear play fellows, drew tears from my eyes plentifully.

M.

But, my dear, you should rather have acknow­ledged the distinguished mercy and goodness of God, that when he sent that grievous distemper the yellow fever, under which poor Miss Anthony languished, groaned, and died, he did not at the same time, by the same fatal disease, call you to the dark regions of the grave! as he has power to do, my dear, whenever he thinks fit: he can arm death with a thousand darts; and reduce his creatures to dust by various unforeseen and unavoidable accidents and distempers.

N.

Pray, Mamma, what do these two Latin words Memento meri, which I observed written upon several tomb-stones, mean?

M.

Why those words, child, have no relation to the sleeping dust; but are designed as an admonition to the living, and to such girls as you, while you are playing in the church yard, and trampling on the dead, to tell you, that you must remember death; and, con­sidering how apt we all are to forget that awful hour, it is necessary we should be often reminded of it.

N

[...] certainly melancholy, Mamma, to think of [...], as it separates us from all our dear friends, and from every delight and pleasure, and reduces us to food for worms, to corruption and dust. For my part I should think it were better to forget it, than to make life unhappy, by frequently thinking upon a subject so very disagreeable, a thing we have not power to prevent.

M.

It is not reasonable, Nancy, that you or I [Page 156] should have a power of preventing what that God that gave us life and being has decreed for us, and all the human race; do not you remember what your bible tells you?

N.

What is that the bible says?

M.

That it is appointed for all once to die! And surely, he that made us, knows best how to dispose of us, and what time is fittest for our state of trial here! And you may farther remember that the judge of all the earth must do right: he that made us, and brought us first into being, has surely a right to dispose of us as he pleases; and 'tis our great happiness, that we are at the disposal, not only of a being of infinite pow­er and wisdom, but also of a gracious, benevolent, and merciful God, that is willing to bestow happiness on all his creatures, that act consistent wi [...]h the rea­sonable powers and opportunities he has given them, and are not wilfully obstinate and disobedient to his laws. Consider, child, that your thinking of death is not de­signed to make you unhappy, but quite the contrary; they that often think of it, are most likely to be pre­pared for it, by not committing any of those sins and iniquities that make them afraid of dying. The child that is disobedient to its parents, that steals, tells lies, breaks the sabbath, or is guilty of any bad actions, is not only afraid, but ashamed to be brought into their presence, either to implore their pardon or to be pu­nished for his crimes: and is it not a thousand times worse to die in your sins, and be brought into the pre­sence of God, and there to be sentenced to punish­ment and misery? For though God is merciful, he is also just; and will certainly appoint such a degree of punishment to all his rational creatures, that die without repentance and remission of their sins, by the blood of his son Jesus Christ, as is the exact demerit of their iniquities. If you often think of death, you [Page 157] will be afraid of sin, as 'tis that alone can make you unhappy in dying. The honest, the faithful, the obe­dient and the good (such as I hope your play-fellow was that you have so much lamented the loss of) have nothing to fear: they enter upon a state of rest un­known to us, and shall, at the great day of resurrec­tion, have their happy souls reunited to their new rai­sed bodies, and enter upon a state of everlasting hap­piness, in the glorious society of God, the holy angels, and as the scriptures tell you, the spirits of the just, that are made perfect: and associate again (perhaps) with their dear departed friends, in the blessed man­sions of eternal felicity!

N.

When you talk of the resurrection, Mamma, it seems truly strange to me, how all the scattered dust, that has been dispersed from place to place, and all these rotten bones, that are quite lost and gone, and, perhap [...] have so for several thousand years, should be all brought together, and every part united into its proper place, as I have been often told they will.

M.

This, child, is quite beyond your comprehen­sion of mind; but the same Almighty God, who had a power to create us at first, and who breathed into us the breath of life, by which we became living souls, has certainly a power of doing this. And as our bles­sed Redeemer Christ Jesus is become the first fruits of them that slept; as your bible tells you, so certainly, at the last day, he will, by his almighty power, awa­ken all the sleeping dead, in order to demonstrate, in the face of the whole world, the equity of his proceed­ings; when the wicked shall be sentenced to misery, and the just and faithful received into mansions of hap­piness, where they shall be forever with the Lord:— Thus, Nancy, you see, what encouragement you have to pray often to God for his grace, to support you a­gainst temptations; and to use your utmost endeavors [Page 158] to serve him acceptably, and do nothing that may of­fend him: if you do this, you will always have a hap­piness in view, that will support you against the fears of death.

RELIGIOUS DIALOGUES. The General Principles of the Christian Religion explain­ed: in a series of Dialogues, between a Master and Scholar.

Scholar.

WHAT knowledge is the most ne­cessary?

Master.

That of Religion: because nothing but re­ligion can make us perfectly happy, and without it we must be very miserable, in regard we are subject in this life to divers evils, both of soul and body, and at the last to death: against all which misfortunes, Re­ligion is our only comfort and remedy, as it supports us under trouble, gives us peace of mind, f [...]e [...] us from sin and the fear of death, and affords a certain hope of a future eternal life of happiness.

S.

In what does Religion consist?

M.

In the knowledge of the one true God, and in worshipping and serving him acceptably, and we must believe that God is: that he hath given us laws and commandments to keep; that he will reward all such as observe and do what he hath commanded, and punish those who disobey him, both in this world and in the next.

S.

What is God?

M.

God is a perfect being, greater and more ex­cellent than all other beings; he is a spirit not of shape parts or body, but invisible, eternal, unchangeable, every where present; he is infinite in power, know­ledge, wisdom, goodness, justice, holiness, mercy and truth; he is one, and his essence is incomprehen­sible; he is the maker, preserver and governor of the [Page 159] universe, and of all things therein; these are his at­tributes, properties or perfections that belong or are ascribed to him.

S.

What proofs are there of a God?

M.

We may prove the being of a God, by the light of reason and conscience, by the general acknow­ledgment and consent of all nations, and by the holy scriptures.

S.

How do you thus prove there is a God?

M.

First, by reason, the heavens declare the glo­ry of God, and the firmament sheweth his handy work. The sun, the moon, and stars; the birds in the air, the fish in the sea, the beast in the field, the herbs, grass and flowers, which grow therein, do all mutu­ally demonstrate this great truth; for these could not make themselves, nor be the product of chance; but were effected by a divine power who is the first cause of all things, and on whom they solely depend. Se­condly, By conscience, this is a witness established by God in every man's breast, to preserve the notice and memory of him. We never do our duty, but we perceive a pleasing satisfaction in our minds; and we never transgress, but conscience severely corrects and rebukes us; the truth of this every one knows by ex­perience. Thirdly, By the consent of all nations; the belief of a God is as ancient as the world, and ac­knowledged in all ages by all men, both learned and unlearned: and fourthly, by the scriptures: God hath not left himself without good and sufficient witnesses of his having made heaven and earth, the sea, and all things therein, Acts xiv: 15, 17. The invisible things of God from the creation of the world are clear­ly seen, being understood by the things that are made even his eternal power and God-head: Rom. 1, 20. Whatever we observe in nature, in the heavens and upon the earth; and whatever is supernatural, as [Page 160] miracles and prophecies, do all conspire to prove that there is a God.

S.

But might not the world be eternal?

M.

No; for we find in the beginning of all things the origin of nations, arts and sciences, the erection of Empires, the time when the several parts of the world were first inhabited; and there is no history a­bove six thousand years, which proves the world was not eternal, but had a beginning; it must therefore be created by an Almighty Power, and none could do this but God; a being infinite and self existent.

S.

What is God to us?

M.

He is our creator, father and lord, and we are his creatures, sons, and servants: and he made us to honor, serve, and obey him, that we may by that means become happy, and attain eternal life.

S.

How many religions are there in the world?

M.

Four; the Christian; the Religion of the Jews, who worship the true God, but do not believe in Jesus Christ; the Religion of the Pagans, who wor­ship false Gods; and that of the Mahometans, which was set up by the pretended prophet six hundred years after Christ.

S.

Which is the true Religion?

M.

The Christian Religion, which consists in the true God, and in Jesus Christ, John 17, 3. This is life eternal, that they might know the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom he sent.

S.

Who was this Jesus Christ?

M.

He was the son of God, the Messiah whom God promised to send into the world.

S.

Can this be clearly proved?

M.

Yes; for we find in the birth, life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the characters of the Mes­siah which the prophets had foretold, accomplished, in him; that he also wrought many miracles, and [Page 161] prophesied many things that afterwards came to pass, and being crucified by the Jews, he raised himself from the dead.

S.

What proofs are there for this?

M.

The Jews and other enemies of the Christian Religion agree, that there was formerly in Judea, a man named Jesus, who said he was the son of God; and the histories of Jews and Pagans inform us, that it was in his time, and by him, that this Religion was first set up; and the Jews confess he wrought many miracles, and foretold many things which came to pass after his death, particularly the destruction of Jerusa­lem, and the establishment of his church throughout the world: and as to his resurrection from the dead, we shall speak of that hereafter.

S.

By whom was the Christian Religion preached?

M.

By the Apostles; who did not constrain men to embrace it by force, but only had recourse to their preaching and miracles, even when force was made use of against them.

S.

How does it appear that the Christian Religion is true?

M.

From the very nature of it; for all that it teaches and commands men to believe and do is perfect­ly agreeable to right reason and justice. The Chris­tian Religion requires nothing but what is reasonable, just, and worthy of God and man; it tends to make order, justice and peace reign amongst men; it sancti­fies, comforts, and procures them the greatest happi­ness they can enjoy in this world, and in a future state.

S.

Why then is there so little religion and piety among men?

M.

Because the greatest part do not know the re­ligion of Jesus Christ, not being well instructed there­in when young; so that their passions and love to the world have hindered them from considering its beauty [Page 162] and excellence: but whoever fairly and candidly exa­mines, will find, that there is nothing more true, ex­cellent, or necessary than this holy religion; and if we believe what it teaches, and perform what it com­mands, we shall be everlastingly happy, or if we fail therein, we shall be eternally miserable.

S.

How do you prove the scriptures to be true?

M.

By the persons who wrote them, and the things they contain.

S.

Who are the authors of the Scriptures?

M.

Moses and the Prophets wrote the Old Testa­ment, the Apostles and Disciples of Christ the new [...] and that those men were the authors of those books, is a truth that has been ack [...]wledged by Jews and Pagans, as well as Christians. It is most evident they were men of integrity and piety, and reported what they knew to be true.

S.

But might not the Apostles and Prophets de­ceive the world?

M.

No; because they were inspired by God; and besides, there were a great number of persons who knew that what they wrote was true; and had it been false, their writings would not have been received as divine.

S.

How do you prove the truth of scripture by the things it contains?

M.

By the histories it relates, by the doctrines it teaches, and by the commandments it prescribes. The sacred history agrees as to time, events, persons and circumstances, with other credible histories, even with the Pagans, who wrote before and after Christ. The doctrines agree with the light of reason, and the na­tural sentiments of men, such as that there is a God, and future punishments for the wicked, and rewards for the good. The commands are also agreeable to that which nature, reason, and conscience dictate; [Page 163] for that we should fear the deity, be just and tempe­rate, and not to do to others what we would not have them do to us, are points all men in all ages have be­lieved and agree in.

S.

How do you prove the scriptures came from God?

M.

Because we find several things therein which could come from none but God. As 1st, A doctrine most holy, sublime, and perfect. 2dly, It is accom­panied with the power of the spirit of God, which sanctifies the heart, and produces inward consolation and joy. 3dly, The miracles which the prophets and apostles wrought, clearly demonstrate that God sent them, and spoke by them. 4th, The prophecies or predictions of things to come, prove it with the great­est evidence. Many ages before Christ, the Jews had the predictions of the prophets in the Old Testament as we now have; and the three first gospels were pub­lished long before the destruction of Jerusalem, and other events therein foretold, came to pass.

S.

Why were the scriptures given us?

M.

To instruct us in God's will, as to what is necessary for us to do and know in order to be saved: so that it is the only rule of our faith, the only foun­dation of our Religion, and we ought carefully to read and meditate upon it with an attentive mind, a hum­ble heart, and a sincere intention to do God's will.

S.

How many parts are there in the Christian Re­ligion?

M.

Two; the first treats of faith, or the truth a Christian ought to believe; the second of our duty, as to what we ought to do.

S.

What is faith?

M.

A belief and firm persuasion of the truth which God has revealed in his word; in particular that Je­sus Christ is the Son of God and Saviour of the world; [Page 164] that he died for our sins, and hath promised eternal life to all who believe in, and obey him.

S.

What is the certain mark of true faith?

M.

Obedience to God's commandments; for he that does so, has necessarily the true faith.

[...].

Where do you find what Christians ought to believe?

M.

In the Creed commonly called the Apostles, though not composed by them, nor yet in the form it now is, till long after their death.

S.

Why then do they call it the Apostles Creed?

M.

Because it is an abridgement of the doctrines they preached, which may be proved from scripture.

S.

How many parts are there in the Creed?

M.

Three; in the first, we believe in God the father, who created the world; in the second, in Je­sus Christ who redeemed us; and in the third, in the Holy Ghost who sanctifies us: and though the name of God is ascribed to each of these persons, yet there is but one only God, for in the divine nature there are three persons, the father, son and holy ghost, and these three are all of them but one and the same God: thus we must believe, though we cannot understand it, because it is impossible a finite being should compre­hend the nature of one that is infinite.

S.

Why should we believe in the Trinity; or, that there are three persons in the Godhead?

M.

Because the scriptures reveal it to us, Matth. xxviii, 29. 2 Cor. xiii, 14. John xiii, 14. 1 John, v, 7. 1 Cor, viii, 4.

S.

Which is the first article of the Creed?

M.

To believe in God, the maker of heaven and earth, and of all things therein; for on this belief, all Religion is founded.

S.

What is it to believe in God?

M.

It is 1st, to believe that there is a God, and [Page 165] but one; 2dly, to serve and worship him, and expect happiness from him alone. In these two, faith and religion do consist. Heb. xi, 6, He that cometh to God, must believe that he is, and that he is a reward­er of them that diligently seek him. Deuter. vi▪ 4. The Lord our God is one Lord.

S.

What doth faith in God oblige us to?

M.

To acknowledge that we ought to depend on him, to worship, love, and reverence him.

S.

What is the second article in the Creed?

M.

That God made the world.

S.

How did God make it?

M.

He made it by his word, in six days: the or­der in which God made it, is related in the beginning of Genesis.

S.

What is the third thing to believe of God?

M.

That God governs and preserves the world, and all creatures therein; by his providence, and in such a manner, as, that nothing happens without his permission.

S.

Is it necessary to believe a providence?

M.

Yes; because without this belief there would be no Religion among men; for they would neither worship God, thank, nor trust in him: neither fear his judgments, nor hope in his promises.

S.

What proofs are there of a providence?

M.

First, by this, that there is a God who crea­ted the world, and which is no less worthy of his no­tice, that he should govern it. Secondly, The won­derful order we see in the world obliges us to acknow­ledge a providence. Thirdly, The extraordinary things that have happened, as the flood, miracles, and other events prove, that there is a cause free and al­mighty, which rules and directs all things. Fourthly, The holy scriptures teach us this great truth: Lastly, The prophecies clearly prove, that God knows and disposes of all events.

S.
[Page 166]

What should the doctrines of providence teach us?

M.

That we are obliged to God for all the good things we enjoy; that he is privy to and sees all our actions; that we must one day give an account of all ou [...] thoughts, words, and deeds, and therefore we should live soberly, righteously and godly, that we ought to trust in God, and believe he will grant us whatever is necessary for our souls and bodies; and be thankful to him in prosperity, and patient in adversity.

S.

What is further to be known?

M.

That all men were sinners, and therefore Je­sus Christ came into the world to save them.

S.

In what state did God create the first man Adam?

M.

He was created good and righteous, pure and innocent, after the image of God; but he did not long continue in this state of innocence, for he fell into sin, by disobeying an easy commandment, which God gave him as a trial of his obedience, viz. Not to eat of the tree of knowledge, of good and evil, in the garden of Eden.

S.

What were the consequences of Adam's fall?

M.

It made him and his posterity subject to sin and death▪ by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men; for that all have sinned. Rom. v, 12.

S.

Did God leave the world in this condition?

M.

No; he taking pity on his creatures, promis­ed Adam, Abraham, and the Patriarchs, that of the seed of the woman he would raise up a Saviour and Redeemer, to rescue men from sin, death, and damna­tion—to which Adam's fall had made them liable.

S.

How did he perform his promise?

M.

By sending Jesus Christ, to take upon him our nature, to die for our sins, to become our Lord, and [Page 167] the author of holiness, life, and salvation to mankind; which brings me to the second part of the creed, that of faith in Jesus Christ.

S.

What is it to believe in Jesus Christ?

M.

That there was such a person, who taught us our Religion, and from whom we are called Christi­ans; that he is the son of God, the promised Messiah, the Saviour of the world; and that we ought to pro­fess his doctrine, and obey his commands.

S.

How did Jesus Christ save us?

M.

By his holy and humble life, and by dying a painful death for us upon the cross.

S.

Is Jesus Christ God?

M.

Yes; in the beginning was the word, and the word was with God, and the word was God, John 1, 1. He says of himself, before Abraham was I am, John 8, 58. And the scriptures in many places attri­bute the perfections of the divine nature to him.

S.

What benefits do we receive by the life and death of Christ?

M.

We are instructed by his doctrine encou­raged by his example, and reconciled to God by his death; he hath also in the gospel given us an excellent law and glorious promises, which he has absolute power to perform.

S.

What are those promises?

M.

He hath promised all things necessary for us, namely, to grant us his grace and holy spirit, to ena­ble us to perform our duty; to forgive us our sins, to hear our prayers, to take from us the sting of death, to raise our bodies from the grave, and unite them to our souls, and to give us life eternal.

S.

How doth Jesus Christ convey these blessings to us?

M.

As being mediator between God and man; and herein we are to consider him as our prophet, [Page 168] priest, and king; as Christ is a prophet, he taught us his father's will; as a priest, he offered himself a sacrifice to make atonement for our sins, by his most precious blood; and as king, he reigns over all things and is our Lord, patron and judge: we ought there­fore to trust in him as our only savior, to believe the doctrine he has taught us, and to serve him faithfully, that he may grant us salvation and life eternal.

S.

Why did Christ humble himself to death?

M.

That he might expiate and make atonement for the sins of men, and fully satisfy the justice of God; and herein we see the infinite mercy of God, and his hatred of sin, which should make us fear him, and lead holy lives.

S.

Is it necessary to believe that Christ rose again from the dead?

M.

Yes; because the truth of the Christian re­ligion depends upon it: if Christ is not risen, our faith is vain, 1 Cor. 15, 17.

S.

How are we sure that he is risen?

M.

By the testimony of his, the watchmen set by the Jews at his sepulchre, and of the Apostles, who saw him often after his burial, St. Paul also informs us, he was seen by above five hundred persons after his resurrection, 1 Cor. 15, 6. Mat. 28, 9, 11. Luke 24, 36. The singular and extraordinary tes­timony of St. Thomas, Acts 1, 3. John 20, 26.

S.

Of what use is the resurrection of Christ to us?

M.

It proves that he is the son of God, that he has made atonement for our sins, and is a pledge to us, that we shall rise again at the last day, Rom. 1, 4: 4, 25. 1 Cor. 15, 20, 21, 22. The belief of Christ's resurrection should make us live righteously, Rom. 6.4. To obey him in all things, to hope in his promises, and to fear his threatenings.

S.
[Page 169]

Is it necessary to believe, that after we are dead and buried we shall rise again?

M.

Yes; for if the dead rise not, Religion is vain, 1 Cor. xv. and our Lord says, the hour is coming in which all that are in their graves shall hear his voice, and shall come forth; they that have done good, unto the resurrection of life, and they that have done [...]vil, unto the resurrection of damnation, John v, 28, 29. And St. Paul says the same, 1 Cor. xv. Acts xxiv, 15.

S.

How will our bodies be at the resurrection?

M.

They will be incorruptible and glorious: for this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality, 1 Cor. xv, 53. The belief of the resurrection, should comfort us under af­flictions, and against the fears of death, and fill us with joy unspeakable, in a firm hope of a glorious immortality.

S.

What is the third part of the creed?

M.

To believe in the Holy Ghost, the third per­son of the holy trinity; the scriptures assure us that he is the almighty power of God, that his essence is infinite and divine.

S.

Why do you call him the Holy Ghost?

M.

Because he is most holy in himself, and pro­duces holiness in the hearts of men: he inspired the prophets and apostles of Jesus Christ, and by his pow­er the christian religion was established in the world; namely, by communicating to the apostles the gift of working miracles, and of speaking all sorts of langua­ges, to the end that they might preach the gospel eve­ry where, and confirm their doctrine by the miracles they wrought; which are now ceased, as the gospel is sufficiently confirmed.

S.

What is meant by the Holy Catholic Church, and the communion of saints, mentioned in the creed?

M.

By the former we are to understand in gene­ral, [Page 170] the universal or whole church of God, all good men from the beginning to the end of the world; and by the latter that all such good persons are all the ser­vants of the same God, all guided and sanctified by the same spirit, all live in hope of the same divine promises, of being finally made partakers of some de­gree of glory in the eternal kingdom of God; and con­sequently, that it is the duty of all persons to live to­gether in love, and mutually assist, comfort and instruct each other; and to perform all the good offices that it becomes members of one and the same body to do for one another.

S.

What is to be believed as to the last judgment?

M.

That Jesus Christ will descend from heaven at the end of the world, to judge all men.

S.

How do you prove this?

M.

The same reasons which prove there is a God and a Providence; that Jesus Christ is the son of God, and Savior of the world; that the holy scriptures are divinely inspired, and that the christian religion is true, do equally prove a future judgment; for had we nothing to fear or hope for after death, all these things would be false: besides, the consciences of men do prove that there is a difference between virtue and vice, by exciting in their minds, fears and remorse when they do evil, affording pleasure and satisfaction when they do well; which would not be so, were there not rewards and punishments after this life.

S.

Is the belief of a future judgment peculiar to christians?

M.

The heathens believed that after death there were rewards for the good, and punishments for the wicked; but this doctrine is more clearly described by the gospel; we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, that every one may receive the things done in his body, according to that he hath done, [Page 171] whether it be good or evil, 2 Cor. v.10. And then all wicked men, and every worker of iniquity, Christ will condemn to everlasting destruction, from the pre­sence and glory of God, in the lake that burneth with fire unquenchable; but all virtuous good men, and just, righteous, and religious persons, who have sin­cerely endeavored to obey the commandments of God, shall be then rewarded with glory unspeakable in the kingdom of heaven, which is the life everlasting.

S.

How will Christ judge the world?

M.

He will judge all mankind, both the dead and living, and punish or reward them according to the good or evil that they have done: when the righteous shall go into life eternal, and the wicked be sentenced to eternal torments, Mat. xxv.

S.

When shall this judgment be?

M.

Though the universal solemn judgment will not be till the end of the world, yet every man is judg­ed at the hour of his death, who thence remain in a state of happiness or misery till the last day. The be­lief of which should teach us to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously and god­ly in this present world, looking for that blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ, Titus ii, 11, 12, 13.

S.

Is it enough to know and believe the articles of faith?

M.

No: we must besides know what duties Re­ligion prescribes, and also perform them.

S.

What is the first and principal duty?

M.

Repentance and amendment of life▪ God com­mandeth all men every where to repent.

S.

What is meant by true repentance?

M.

To recollect our former sins, to confess them to God, and be sorry for them; to pray for pardon, and to amend our lives.

S.
[Page 172]

What is meant by amendment of life?

M.

To renounce sin, and live a good life: we must cease to do evil and learn to do well.

S.

What other duties does Religion require?

M.

Our duty to God, our neighbor, and our­selves.

S.

What is our duty God?

M.

To love him supremely, with all our hearts, souls and minds; to honor, fear, trust in, and wor­ship him.

S.

What is it to love God?

M.

Highly to esteem, and earnestly to desire to please him: to regard him as our sovereign good, to serve him faithfully, to be zealous for his glory and to submit to his unerring will.

S.

What is it to honor God?

M.

To have an awful sense of his infinite perfec­tions; and to express it in our words and actions; and we dishonor him by wicked thoughts, by false, rash, and vain oaths, by propane or blasphemous dis­courses, and by lending an ill life.

S.

What is it to fear God?

M.

To dread to offend him, by avoiding all sin▪ for he sees all our actions, and is pr [...]vy to our most secret thoughts; we [...]ould therefore hate sin, and endeavor to please and obey him.

S.

What is it to trust in God?

M.

To have a firm assurance that if we fear and obey him, he will grant us all things necessary, and deliver us from all evil; we distrust him by vainly pre­suming on, or timorously despairing of his goodness and mercy.

S.

What is prayer?

M.

Prayer signifies our requesting of God such things as are necessary for us; in Christ's name—with an humble confession of our sins, and a grateful re­membrance [Page 173] of his mercies: the effectual fervent pray­er of a righteous man availeth much, James v.16. Psalm l.15. Call upon me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver thee. Prayer increases our love of God, our humility, charity, and other virtues; and by it we obtain the assistance of God's grace and holy spirit, to overcome the temptations of the world, the devil, and the flesh.

S.

What is our duty towards men?

M

Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, Matthew xxii. That is, whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do you even so to them. Matthew vii.12. We must be just and honest in all our dealings, bear no malice nor hatred in our hearts, nor injure any one by word or deed: we must avoid detraction, lying, slandering, and evil speaking; we must live in love and charity, and recompence no man evil for evil, but do good to all men, even to them that hate us, Matthew v.44. We must render to all their dues; we must honor and obey our parents, our lawful rulers, and pastors.

S.

What are the mutual duties of each relation?

M.

The duty of children to parents is to love, obey, respect, and submit to them in all things, just, lawful, honest, and of good report; and to afford them a reasonable support in the time of age and neces­sity. To magistrates there is due from citizens, obe­dience according to the established laws of the country in all things not repugnant to God's laws. To mas­ters there is due from servants diligence and industry, honesty, fidelity and submission, as appointed by the law, or by mutual agreement. To ministers and pas­tors, there is due reverence and respect to their per­sons, and instructions: and towards all superiors there is due especially from young persons, a modest [...] respectful behavior.

[Page 174]

A CONCISE POETICAL DESCRIPTION OF ENGLISH GRAMMAR.

VERSE being much easier retained than PROSE, and generally more pleasing to female minds, it is pre­sumed that the following poetical hints may prove an useful REMEMBRANCER to YOUNG LADIES, both at School and afterwards.

GRAMMAR, that useful ornamental art,
Does rules to speak, to read, and write impart,
In Grammar four grand parts Grammarians tell;
Orthography, which teaches you to spell;
By Pros [...]dy, the voice must sink and rise;
Analogy, the use of words implies;
While Syntax, how to form a sentence shows;
Hence elegance in speech and writing flows.

OF LETTERS, VOWELS, and DIPHTHONGS.

1.
The letters that compose the English speech
Are twenty-six in number, five of which
Are vowels, namely, a, e, i, o, u;
And consonants we call the residue:
But y a vowel is when't don't begin
A syllable, as in fly, Egypt, Lyn;
And w, is often wrote for u
In th' end and middle of a syllable, as
May be exemplified in owl, ruw, few.
A diphthong is two vowels which are found
Together in one syll'ble, as in round.
Three vowels in one syll'ble (as in lieu)
A triphthong is of which we have but few;
One's shown, another you'll in beauty view.

Of SYLLABLES and their DIVISION.

2.
A Syllable is so many letters as
Make an entire sound (for instance was)
[Page 175]Which always has one vowel often more;
But never does exceed the number four.
Those syllables sound mostly long which have
Above one vowel, as in road, feed, grave;
But mostly short which have but one, as in
These few examples, lodg-ing, rub-bish, pin.
3.
One consonant between two vowels goes
To the latter vowel, as repu-ted shows;
But x must to the former vow'l be join'd;
As by ex-ist and vix-en you will find.
Two consonants between two vowels divide;
As in dis-sol-ved; but (as in de-cry'd
When they'll begin must be together ty'd.)

4. The different kinds of words, which constitute the English Grammar, are commonly divided into nine parts of speech—viz.—Article, Adjective, Noun, Pronoun, Verb, Adverb, Preposition, Conjunction, and Interjection.

Of ARTICLES.

Two Articles to use, the learned agree,
The first is (a) or (an)—the second (the).
Nouns individual (a) or (an) do claim,
But (the) joins only with a general name.

Of ADJECTIVES.

5.
All adjectives do qualities express;
And cloath their substantives in proper dress;
The adjective is no degree—as fair,
But is call'd positive, when we compare.
The next comparative, with greater skill
Declares that you yourself are fairer still;
But the superlative, as fairest claims
The last degree, above all other names.
[Page 176]

Of NOUNS.

6.
A noun or substantive does things display,
As man, horse, globe, wisdom, night and day:
Two sorts of substantives Grammarians make,
Which names of COMMON and of PROPER take.

PROPER.

7.
A proper noun, does with a certain aim,
One only fix'd peculiar object name;
Thus John and Thomas proper names you'll find,
To individuals certainly assign'd.

COMMON.

8.
Common is what the species comprehends,
As man, mankind, nobility and friends;
Nouns are by singular and plural shown,
For these terms always make their plural known.
To speak of one, we always must employ
The singular, as globe, horse, man, boy.
To speak of more than one, a plural take,
As horses, men, and boys, do plural make.

CASE.

9.
Cases in other languages abound,
But in the English only three are found

By cases are understood, the variations of nouns. There are, properly speaking, but two cases in our tongue; the nominative, and the possessive. The nomi­native case is the name itself, as John. The pos [...]essive denotes property or possession; as John's house: some pronouns have a case peculiar to themselves, which may be called the objective or relative case.

OF GENDER.

10.
In nouns two Genders always are implied;
In Masculine, the male sex is specified.
Of any noun that's animal, as he,
The Feminine, is female, or the she,
[Page 177]All nouns inanimate, no Gender are,
As Harris in his Hermes does declare.

PERSON.

11.
In Grammar we three persons may descry,
The first, the speaking person is, as, I;
The second is the person spoken to,
And is distinguish'd by a thou or you;
The third the person spoken of will fit,
As he, she, they, those, them, their and it.

Of PRONOUNS.

12.
With Pronouns, we the place of Nouns supply,
And for your name and mine, say you or I;
But these dull repetitions we avoid,
For otherwise the reader would be cloy'd.

Of a VERB.

13.
A verb, existence, state, or sufferings shew,
Active, to do, as all Gramarians know.
In verbs four moods are found, as all agree,
The indicative declares, as, I decree;
The imperative, is an imperious tone,
Commands, as, Sirrah, get thee hence—begone,
Pow'r or its want, the mode Potential shows,
As, if I dar'd, I'd pull you by the clothes.
Conditional is the Subjunctive still,
As, if they'll let me read—I think I will.
The infinitive still by itself is found,
To always goes before it, as, to bound.

Of ADVERBS.

14.
The manner of a verb an Adverb shews,
And does the action good or bad suppose;
Suppose about a dancing trip we tell,
An adverb shews you've danc'd extremely well.
[Page 178]

Of PREPOSITIONS.

15.
A preposition does a noun precede,
As, simple deed compounded is indeed,
Or when reflecting upon Nature's plan,
Instinct with brutes, and reason goes with man.

Of CONJUNCTION.

16.
All sentences Conjunctions join together,
As, this is pleasant, fair and healthy weather;
Or, Jack and I one day together fought,
Because both he and I, had little thought.

Of INTERJECTION.

17.
An Interjection speaks some great surprise,
Or sudden passion of the mind implies,
As, well a day! Ah cruel! hapless! Oh!
I die with joy! I sink beneath my woe.

[N. B. I am indebted to the late ingenious Mr. GRORGE BOYD, for some of the foregoing remarks.

Of STOPS and MARKS.

18.
STOPS are intended partly to prevent,
Confusion in the sense, part with intent
To give the reader breathing time: which are
In number FOUR; the first a Comma [,] where
You should be silent while the number one
May be distinctly spoke, and then go on.

The comma is generally used to distinguish words of the same kind, as Nouns, Verbs, &c.—Also for dividing long sentences into convenient parts, and to prevent obscurity.

EXAMPLE.

19. Now, the works of the flesh are manifest, which are these; adultery, fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, witchcraft, hatred, variance [Page 179] emulations, wrath, strife, seditions, heresies, envy­ings, murder, drunkenness, revellings, and such like: of the which I tell you before, as I have told you in time past, that they which do such things shall not inherit the kingdom of God. But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.

Of the SEMI-COLON [;]

20.
The second a semi-colon is, where you
Should rest just while your may slowly say one, two.

The principal use of the semi-colon is to distinguish the frequent division of sentences; but does not make a complete sense; it is frequently used in sentences, that express contrast or opposition, as to err is human; to forgive divine.

EXAMPLE.

21. Wash you, make you clean; put away the evil of your doings from before mine eyes; cease to do evil; learn to do well; seek judgment, relieve the oppressed; judge the fatherless; plead for the widow. Come now, and let us reason together saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as wool.

The Lord is with you, while ye be with him; and if ye seek him he will be found of you; but if ye for­sake him, he will forsake you.

Of the COLON [:]

22.
The third is called a colon which should be
A pause while you may fairly reckon three.

A colon generally denotes a perfect part of a sentence (which has a full meaning of its own) but yet leaves the mind in expectation to know what is to follow.

[Page 180]

EXAMPLE.

He is despised and rejected of men: a man of sor­rows, and acquainted with grief: and we hid as it we [...]e our faces from him: he was despised, and we esteemed him not. Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was up­on him: and with his stripes, we are healed.

Of the PERIOD [.]

23.
The fourth a period is, where you should rest
Until one, two, three, four, can be express'd.
There are besides, a note of int'rogation [?]
And of admiring, or of exclamation [!]
Where you should stop as at a period; but
Take care to speak in a much higher note.

The period denotes the full ending of a sentence, and is always placed at the conclusion of it.

EXAMPLE.

Like as a father pitio [...] his children, so the Lord pitieth them that fear him.

For he knoweth our frame; he remembereth that we are dust.

Of POINTING in GENERAL.

24.
The comma gen'rally divides the small
Imperfect parts of sentences from all;
Those which are more expressive of the sense,
The semi-colon keeps it in suspense,
The colon shews the sense is full, but needs,
Such further illustration as succeeds.
The period ends. The not [...] of int'rogation
A question follows. Note of admiration,
Succeeds joy, wonder, fear, grief indignation

[Page 181]In the following example the young reader, will see the four stops or marks duly applied.

Seek ye the Lord while he may be found, call up­on him while he is near. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts▪ and let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy up­on him; and to our God, for he will abundantly par­don.

Of ACCENT.

26.
By accent here is meant the raising of
Your voice in one part of a word above
The common pitch; and where to lay that stress,
With elegance the following words express.
Accent the latter syll'ble as display,
Abóve, accépt, adórn, afráid, alláy;
Negléct, transáct, undó, revive, reclaims,
But mostly other words, and proper names:
Have th' accent on the first; as limit Michal,
With énter, Jóseph, lóving, fávor Phichol.
In words above two syllables the stress,
Is gen'rally upon the last but two;
As in tradition liberty; unless
In words above three syllables which do
As nécessary terminates in ary,
The last but three the greatest stress doth carry.

A GENERAL EXCEPTION.

27.
As many words do vary from these rules
And all the precepts ever taught in schools,
The best supply for such defects I know,
Is when a word don't very smoothly flow,
Accented by the rules above, to lay
The stress on such a part as, so, it may
Sound smoother that, than any other way:
As in prodúce, illustrate, privatéer,
Domestic, image, common, voluntéer.
[Page 182]

Of EMPHASIS.

28.
Though Emphasis and accent, are in name
Quite diff'rent, yet their nature's much the same,
For as an accent is the raising of
Your voice on part of a word above
The common pitch, so is the emphasis
On words that rule the sense in sentences;
Which greatly helps to make the meaning clear,
For else it often doubtful would appear:
As in the question, may I blow this fire?
If 't may or mayn't be blown I but enquire?
And if I say, may I this fire blow?
I ask if't may be blown by me or no?
And may I blow this fire? doth imply
This may I blow or other methods try?
And may I blow this fire? is to say
This or another fire; which I pray?
And, may I blow this fire? is to ask,
Is fire or something else to blow, my task?

Of CADENCE.

29.
Begin the sentence in a middling key,
Nor rise nor fall when you a comma see.
At semi-colons one note higher be;
Questions and admirations too; drop colons
One note below the key, periods two whole ones.

Of CAPITAL LETTERS.

30.
Each line in verse, each sentence should begin
With capitals; which are not us'd but in
The front of words: except that O and I
Are capitals when by themselves they lie;
Quotations too, capitals do claim;
Also proper names; as Spain, John, Gad, Thames,
And for distinction sake and ornament
Some words have capitals throughout in print.

[Page 183]31. All the appellations of the Deity should begin with a capital, as God, Lord, Jesus Christ, Holy-Ghost, &c. And also the names of Arts and Sciences, as Arithmetic, Geometry, &c. Likewise names of Office, as President, Governor, Judge, Mayor, Se­cretary, Admiral, General, &c. Together with the names of Languages, as Hebrew, Greek, Latin, English, &c. &c.

HINTS WITH REGARD TO MAKING PENS FOR DIFFERENT KINDS OF WRITING, &c.

1. FOR large text, make a long slit, for it will write free; a point nearly as broad as the shade you intend it for; make the shoulders high, that it may carry a quantity of ink; and, if a large quill, at a considerable distance from the point, to give it a great­er degree of elasticity:—when you make the point, a perpendicular cut is the best: when you make the slit, hold the edge of the nail of your left thumb upon the back of the quill, where you want to stop at:

2. For running hand, the same directions will an­swer, only you may make the point a little finer, yet broader than the stroke you intend it for.

3. For very nice writing, make the slit short, little or no shoulder, and the point according to the size of the writing intended.

ATTITUDE FOR WRITING.

4. Do not stoop much; for your breath will damp your paper; and, by contracting your chest, endan­ger your health, and soon tire you.

Lean mostly upon your left arm, and keep it out from your body upon the desk, let the right be closer to your side, but as much at liberty as possible. Do not move your head from side to side, when you write; for it is not only ungraceful, but tends to deceive you [Page 184] in the slopes of your strokes, and to render your wri­ting irregular.

OF HOLDING THE PEN.

5. Point the pen, in writing the round hand, up to your right shoulder; and always let both sides of the pen have an equal strain upon them in coming down; for this will prevent any of the sides from wearing sooner than the other: but, in writing the square hands, keep it more perpendicular.

Lean the weight of the hand which writes upon the tip of the little finger; keep the ring-finger lying within the little one; keep the fore and mid fingers nearly straight, and the two first joints of the fore fin­ger lying mostly upon the back of the pen. Keep the first joint of the thumb bending outwards, and the point against the pen opposite to the first joint of the fore finger.

DEVOTIONAL POEMS: ADAPTED TO SEVERAL PORTIONS OF SCRIPTURE; BY THE REVEREND MARK ANTHONY MEILAN, AUTHOR OF SERMONS FOR CHILDREN.

ON THE NEW YEAR.

The time is short.

1 Cor. vii.29.
1.
PATERNAL Lord of ages hear
From thy celestial throne;
For sure thou wilt not scorn a child
That thus her wants make known.
2.
In safety led, from day to day,
By thy almighty hand,
At length we see another year
Now opening on the land.
3.
If of the year so lately past,
Or those that went before,
[Page 185]We have, alas! too much mispent,
Let us mispend no more:
4.
Convinc'd that from thy bounteous hand,
No blessings can ensue
Greater than time, which they who waste,
Their crime shall early rue.
5.
So, while the circling years come back,
And other years begin;
When friends that compliment renew,
Politeness first brought in—
6.
No painful thoughts their wish may raise,
Such as the conscious mind,
Reflecting on days, weeks, months and years,
All misemploy'd must find:—
7.
But such as of past time well spent,
May the sweet mem'ry 'wake;
While of the happiness they wish▪
Already we partake.

ON EVIL SPEAKING.

Thou sittest and speakest against thy brother: thou slander­est thine own mother's son.

PSALM l. 20.
1.
THOU whose good providence first join'd
In bands of kindred all mankind,
Give me the grace to know,
That when I censure with my tongue,
I censure my own mother's son,
For thou hast told me so.
2.
This knowledge if thy goodness deign,
Then from a crime shall I refrain,
So hateful to mankind:
When, prone myself to many a fault,
Of others with harsh judging thought,
I do not speak my mind.
3.
But if those others, not like me,
Taught to conceal the faults they see,
My fault or folly blaze;
[Page 186]Thy gospel shall my bosom cheer,
Since they who're spoken ill of here,
Shall surely have thy praise.

ON PRIDE.

When pride cometh, then cometh shame: but with the lowly is wisdom.

PROVERBS, xi.2.
1.
FOR thy unnumber'd benefits,
Lord, let me bless thy name:
And when I pray each night and morn,
Thy bounteous name proclaim;
That does to me such favor show,
More than a thousand round me know.
2.
What then am I? No merit sure,
In me deserves such love;
That with a liberal hand thou should'st
Thus bless me from above.
Of thy free grace it comes alone,
That such great mercy I am shown.
3.
Take from me then, O Lord, all pride,
And grant that since I know
So many want the gifts I have,
I may with joy bestow—
Of my large stock, at least some part,
To mitigate their grief of heart.

ON FAMILY AFFECTION.

Peace be to you: fear not.

GENESIS, xliii.23.
1.
HOW sweet, O Lord, how excellent,
How glorious is the scene,
When those from the same parents sprung,
Scarce know what quarrels mean.
2.
They love each other; and, still more,
Their parents love as well:
For where fraternal love is found,
There filial too must dwell.
[Page 187]
3.
This, the fond parent, day by day,
With heart-felt transport view;
And every hour, amid life's cares,
Teems with some pleasure new.
4.
Grant, of thy grace, O Lord, that we,
May each in his abode,
Fill with delight the hearts of those
From whom our life has flow'd.
5.
With this poor gratitude, at least,
Let us their love repay:
Nor be the cares they undergo
For our sake, thrown away.

ON THE GRACE OF GOD.

God be gracious unto thee, my son.

GEN. xliii.29.
1.
OF every blessing in the stores
Of God's almighty mind,
Grace is the richest, fairest, best,
Descending on mankind.
2.
This blessing to deserve our love
He condescends to claim:
Stupendous condescension this!
Too great for words to name!
3.
Give me this grace then; this best gift
O Lord bestow on me;
'Till thou consent I will not cease,
In prayer to bend my knee.
4.
And when the blessing I have gain'd;
Oh make me happier still;
And with that love thy law requires,
Deign my whole heart to fill.

ON MODESTY.

Out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaketh.

MATTHEW, xii.34.
1.
SINCE in the gospel I am taught,
That all I say for want of thought,
[Page 188]That each unmeaning idle word,
As my accuser will be heard,
When to my judge, God's only son,
I answer for the sins I've done.
2.
What shall I say, or how appear,
If guilty words, not fit to hear,
Have during life my lips defil'd:
What shall excuse a shameless child,
Who taught indecency to shun,
Has with lewd words prophan'd her tongue.
3.
Then let me cautiously refrain
From shameful talk and converse vain;
My tongue that God hath made should seek,
At all times of his praise to speak:
Or, heaven-ward while my soul I bear,
Implore his gifts in servent prayer.

ON TRUTH IN SPEAKING.

A lying tongue is but for a moment.

PROV. xii.19.
1.
I KNOW what Jesus Christ has said;
That from the first of things,
To lie, was Satan's chief delight,
And foremost of his sins.
2.
I know too, for his blessed word,
Has likewise told me so;
That God is truth, which they who love,
To God will surely go.
3.
Then let me constantly speak truth,
If I should like to be
With God in his resplendent courts,
His glorious face to see.
4.
There fear, and pain, and grief and death,
Shall all be done away,
And joy, and bliss, and life exist,
Through Heaven's eternal day.
[Page 189]

ON GOOD-FRIDAY.
[Altered from the Spectator.]

Who was delivered for our offences.

ROM, iv.25.
1.
WHEN rising from the bed of death,
O'erwhelm'd with guilt and fear,
I see my maker face to face,
Oh how shall I appear.
2.
If yet while thy great mercy may,
Successfully be sought,
My heart with inward horror shrinks,
And trembles at the thought.
3.
But thou hast told afflicted minds,
Their sins when they lament,
The timely tribute of their tears,
Shall endless woes prevent.
4.
Then view the sorrows of my mind;
Behold my contrite state;
And hear my saviour's dying groans,
To give those sorrows weight.
5.
For never shall my soul despair,
Its pardon to secure,
That knows the Son of God has died,
To make that pardon sure.

ON A CHOICE OF BOOKS.

From a child thou hast known the holy Scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation, through faith which is in Christ Jesus.

2 TIM. iii.15.
1.
IN many a book, by man compos'd,
With profit I can look:
But perfect wisdom, power, and grace,
Shine brightly in God's book.
2.
There, are my choicest treasures plac'd,
There my best comfort dies;
There, my desires are satisfied;
And thence, my hopes arise.
[Page 190]
3.
There, I am told Christ suffered death,
To save my soul from hell;
Not all the books on earth beside,
Such heavenly wonders tell.
4.
Then let me love my bible, Lord,
And therein take delight:
By day peruse those wonders o'er,
And meditate by night.

ON SLOTH.

Why stand ye here all the day idle?

MAT. xx.6.
1.
OH God, who hast our bodies form'd
Thus comely to the eye;
And wouldst not that the mind within,
Uncultivate should lie:
2.
Give us, in these our early years,
This one great thing to know;
That the mind's comeliness alone;
From learning's source should flow.
3.
Then shall we 'scape that dangerous rock,
On which so many run;
Sloth, whose false charms whoever love,
Too often are undone.
4.
Let those among us who are rich,
Look round about and see—
How often is brought down to want,
The man of high degree.
5.
So, while we studiously attain
The knowledge taught us here,
Each in his several state of life,
Shall, as he should, appear.
6.
With dignity the rich: and they
Who must some calling chuse,
Taught, for the honest means of life,
Their several arts to use.
[Page 191]

ON THE THIRD COMMANDMENT.

Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord thy God in vain; for the Lord will not hold him guiltless, that taketh his name in vain.

EXODUS xx 7.
1.
OH God, who rul'st above the sky,
How glorious is thy pow'r, how high!
How reverend the homage shown,
Of saints collected round thy throne!
2.
Grant therefore that my tongue, thro' grace,
May ne'er thy name in talk debase;
That name, which dying e'en the best,
Of men for mercy shall attest.
3.
Oh Jesus, Savior of mankind!
How full of pity was thy mind,
When thou assumedst mortal breath
To save us from eternal death!
4.
Grant too thy name I may revere,
That name thro' which when death is near,
And rising fears the heart appal,
On God, for mercy, I shall call.

ON THE FOURTH COMMANDMENT.

Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy.

EXODUS xx.8.
1.
THIS is the day for God's behest,
Ordain'd for man and brute to rest:
For brute that from his six days toil,
Some respite he may know;
So too for man, but who the while,
His gratitude should show
For benefits receiv'd; or spend
In prayer to his almighty friend.
2.
Then let us God's great love fulfil,
The gracious purpose of his will;
From labor may the cattle rest,
In undisturb'd repose;
But for ourselves, with grateful breast,
To him, the source whence flows
[Page 192]All happiness, our praises pay,
Or on bent knees before him, pray.

ON THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT.

Honor thy father and thy mother, that thy days may be­long upon the land; which the Lord thy God giveth thee.

EXODUS xx.12.
1.
GREAT pleasure, oh Lord,
Have they who fulfill
Thy sacred commands,
And follow thy will.
2.
And if fitting honor
Our parents we pay,
No less satisfaction
Ourselves have than they.
3.
Then let us, oh Lord,
Our parents revere;
Obey them through life,
And love while we fear:
4.
Lest Canaan's hard fortune,
Or Absalom's fate,
Or Sampson's or worse, our
Rebellion await.

ON ANGER.

Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath; but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,

EPHESIANS vi.4.
1.
HOW unbecoming is the sight,
When children, who should shrink with fright
If angry menaces they hear,
Angry, themselves, too oft appear!
2.
When e'er this anger clouds the face,
Of its wont charms no sign we trace:
Vanish its colours, and in lieu,
Reigns a deep fire, or death-like hue.
[Page 193]
3.
Our limbs too, which God's hand has made,
In comely acts to be display'd,
In furious wrath the breast dilate,
Convulsive motions agitate.
4.
Let no such savage tyrant, then
Which sinks to beasts the sons of men,
Possess our hearts, that ne'er should know
The rage of any in-bred foe.
5.
But in the spirit of God's peace,
Which bids all jarring discord cease,
May we be friendly to mankind,
And serve him with a quiet mind.

ON A PROPER BEHAVIOR TO SUPERIORS, EQUALS AND INFERIORS.

If it be possible, as much as lieth in you live peaceably with all men.

ROMANS xiii.18.
1.
HOW shall a child of tender years
Like me his worship pay?
Lord teach my heart to think, and then
No matter what I say.
2.
Let me this truth remember still;
That thy Almighty hand
Fram'd all the numerous sons of men
That dwell in every land.
3.
Then shall I love them all; since all
Descended Lord from thee,
And think my service justly due,
To every one I see.
4.
Then to my betters with respect,
My conduct shall I frame;
And with my equals, know the joy
Of friendship's sacred flame.
5.
While those whose rank—thy providence
My state has plac'd above,
Close to my bosom I shall bind—
By offices of LOVE.
[Page 194]

ON DISSIPATION.

A certain man had two sons, &c.

LUKE xv.11, 20, &c.
1.
IN what clear terms, oh God, thy book,
Instructs all those that therein look,
And truths divine would know:
For there a father's graceless son
We see thro' dissipation run,
To quick and certain woe.
2.
Yet learn we likewise from the tale,
Tho' children in their love may fail;
Not parents so in theirs;
See ours; and mark when his dear child
Return'd, of every thing despoil'd,
How he his love declares.
3.
Grant, of thy grace oh Lord, that we,
Ne'er, like this youth, may ingrates be
To those that gave us breath:
Convinc'd they best our steps can guide,
Let us ne'er wish to quit their side,
But cleave thereto till death.
4.
So, while our parents thus we love,
To thee, oh God, who rul'st above,
Our duty shall we shew;
For Jesus Christ, thy son, hath said,
That by paternal goodness led,
Thou art our father too.

ON CHRISTMAS-DAY.

And she shall bring forth a son, and thou shalt call his name JESUS; for he shall save his people from their sins.

MATTHEW i.21.
1.
LORD, when this universe began,
And thy Almighty power fram'd man,
From sin was he created free,
And meant for happiness and thee:
[Page 195]But soon, from happiness he fell
And thee into the depths of hell.
2.
Yet, notwithstanding this offence,
Thy love, not less than pow'r immense,
In pity of his state forlorn,
Decreed a saviour should be born—
Of human loins; thine only son,
To suffer for what man had done.
3.
To suffer life's worst ills, that we,
From sin, so graciously set free,
Might live to righteousness again,
And our lost heirship re-obtain,
That heirship to eternal bliss
In the next world, we lost in this.
4.
And lo! the long-wish'd day appears;
The Saviour comes! a child of tears!
I see him in a manger laid!
God's only son, thus human made,
To live a life of pain, and then
Die for the sins of thankless men.
Oh! may his life my model be;
And I still breathe, great God, for thee:
To those, from whom my breath I drew,
May I, like him, be subject too;
Live as he liv'd, and when I die,
Hail my Redemption then draw nigh.

AN ADDRESS TO THE DEITY.

1.
GOD of my life! and author of my days!
Permit my feeble voice to lisp thy praise;
And, trembling, take upon a mortal tongue,
That hallowed name to harps of seraphs song.
Yet here the brightest seraphs could no more
Than hide their faces, tremble, and adore.
Worms, angels, men, in ev'ry different sphere
Are equal all, for all are nothing here.
[Page 196]
2.
All nature faints beneath the mighty name,
Which nature's works thro' all her parts proclaim,
I feel that name my inmost thoughts controul,
And breathe an awful stillness through my soul;
As by a charm the waves of grief subside;
Impetuous passion stops her headlong tide:
At thy felt presence all emotions cease,
And my hush'd spirit finds a sudden peace,
Till every worldly thought within me dies,
And earth's gay pageants vanish from my eyes;
Till all my sense is lost in infinite,
And one vast object fills my aching sight.
3.
But soon, alas! this holy calm is broke:
My soul submits to wear her wonted yoke;
With shackled pinions strives to soar in vain,
And mingle with the dross of earth again.
But he, our gracious master, kind as just,
Knowing our frame, remembers man is dust!
His spirit, ever brooding o'er our mind,
Sees the first wish to better hopes inclin'd;
Marks the young dawn of every virtuous aim,
And fans the smoking flax into a flame.
4.
His ears are open to the softest cry,
His grace descends to meet the lifted eye;
He reads the language of a silent tear,
And sighs are incense from a heart sincere.
Such are the vows, the sacrifice I give;
Accept the vow, and bid the suppliant live;
From each terrestrial bondage set me free,
Still every wish that centers not in thee;
Bid my fond hopes, my vain disquiets cease,
And point my path to everlasting peace.
5.
If the soft hand of winning pleasure leads
By living waters, and through flow'ry meads,
When all is smiling, tranquil, and serene,
And vernal beauty paints the flattering scene,
[Page 197]Oh! teach me to elude each latent snare,
And whisper to my sliding heart—beware!
With caution let me hear the syren's voice,
And, doubtful, with a trembling heart rejoice.
6.
If friendless in a vale of tears I stray,
Where briers wound, and thorns perplex my way,
Still let my steady soul thy goodness see,
And with strong confidence lay hold on thee;
With equal eye my various lot receive,
Resign'd to die, or resolute to live;
Prepar'd to kiss the sceptre or the rod,
While God is seen in all, and all in God.
7.
I read his awful name, emblazon'd high,
With golden letters on th' illumin'd sky;
Nor less the mystic characters I see—
Wrought in each flower, inscrib'd on ev'ry tree:
In every leaf that trembles to the breeze,
I hear the voice of God among the trees;
With thee in shady solitude I walk,
With thee in busy crowded cities talk;
In every creature own thy forming power,
In each event thy providence adore.
Thy hopes shall animate my drooping soul,
Thy precepts guide me, and thy fear controul.
Thus shall I rest, unmov'd by all alarms,
Secure within the temple of thine arms,
From anxious cares, from gloomy terrors free,
And feel myself omnipotent in thee.
8.
Then when the last, the closing hour draws nigh,
And earth recedes before my swimming eye;
When trembling on the doubtful edge of fate
I stand and stretch my view to either state;
Teach me to quit this transitory scene,
With decent triumph and a look serene;
Teach me to fix my ardent hopes on high;
And, having liv'd to thee, in thee to die.
[Page 198]

A HYMN, ON OUR LORD AND SAVIOUR.

1.
OUR frailties long he deign'd to share,
The heir of heaven—of pain the heir;
By miracles his power was tried;
He taught, he suffered—groaned and died.
2.
He lived—that man might live in peace;
He died—that sin and death might cease;
He rose—to prove to hell's fierce powers,
Blest immortality is ours.
3.
Oh! may we strive like him to live;
Our friends esteem—our foes forgive;
Our country love—our God adore;
Till sin and death shall be no more!

SOVEREIGN LOVE, AN ODE.

1.
WHILST I, with dauntless wing, essay,
The distant fields of heavenly light,
Guide, thou, my flight, direct my way—
Who didst from nothing, chaos, night;
Endue those lovely scenes to prove,
Whose nature and whose name is Love.
2.
Angels, whom thy own breath inspires,
Encircling thy resulgent thr [...]ne,
Whose bosom glow with chaste desires,
For thee, the infinite unknown,
Admiring and adoring prove
Thy nature and thy name is love.
3.
The radiant sun, that gilds our day,
And vital warmth and joy imparts,
While dancing on his azure way,
Whispers this truth to human hearts;
Scatt'ring his gladsome beams, to prove
That all things spring from Sovereign love.
4.
Love gave the expansive deep to flow,
And mark'd the moon her nightly round,
Love bade the sea his limits know,
Confin'd to his appointed bound:
[Page 199]And heaven and earth unite, to prove,
That all things flow from Sovereign love.
5.
The vales, in gay embroid'ry drest,
Array'd with beauteous flow'rs,
Or on the velvet carpet rest,
Or rising twine in artless bow'rs,
Shed rich perfumes around, to prove
That all things spring from Sovereign love.
6.
The feather'd choir that warbling rove,
And joyous range the verdant wood,
Those pleasant songsters of the grove,
In untaught notes pronounce thee good;
Their bliss, their cheerful sonnets prove
Thy nature and thy name is love.
7.
The finny fish, that skim the sea,
The lowing herd, that graze the plain,
In several forms, acknowledge thee,
And nothing hast thou made in vain:
For all creation, joins, to prove
Thy nature and thy name is love.
8.
The labors of the silk-worm's loom,
The flexile flax, the woolly fleece,
And downy cotton, thistles come,
At distant-periods, form'd to please;
These form our robes of state, and prove
That all things spring from Sovereign love.
9.
Fragrant sweets that deck our feasts,
Nectarine grapes and mellow peach,
And countless fruits of various tastes,
United all, and singly each,
To wretched, senseless man, might prove,
That all was form'd by Sovereign love.
10.
Th' enraptur'd lover's tender glance,
The happy bridegroom's cordial smile,
The blushing spouse, whose charms enhance,
The sacred rapture, not defile,
[Page 200]Their joys, their mutual passions prove
That all things spring from Sovereign love.
11.
The smiling infant sprightly youth,
The prattling girl, and laughing boy,
Evince the soul enlivening truth;
The father's heart, enrapt with joy,
And fond maternal transport prove
That all things spring from Sovereign love.
12.
The faithful friend, whose social breast,
Partakes in all our heart-felt joy,
That nearest image of the blest,
Which forms delight that cannot cloy,
Was added to the rest, to prove
Thy nature and thy name is LOVE.
M.

ON OUR DUTY TO GOD,

1.
HOW easy are thy laws, Oh God!
Thy paths, how pleasant to be trod!
Since love is all thy claim;
Well might thy servant David, say,
Those statutes that mark'd out man's way,
Rejoic'd his very frame.
2.
How can I then my will withdraw,
From following thy most holy law?
Thy gracious voice how shun?
If, in thy word, it had been said,
At my great name be seiz'd with dread,
What then should I have done?
3.
But all thou look'st for at my hand,
That no one may thy will withstand,
Among the sons of men,
Is LOVE alone; for nought abides
Like fear, where perfect love resides,
Oh! let me love thee then!
[Page 201]

AN ADDRESS OF GRATITUDE AND VEN­ERATION TO THE GREAT CREATOR. AN IRREGULAR ODE.

1.
THOU ever-blessed God of truth,
Teach an aspiring grateful youth
Thy goodness to proclaim;
In joy or sorrow, life or death,
May this employ my latest breath,
To praise thy gracious name.
2.
Almighty Father heav'n's eternal king;
Of every being, author, source and spring;
Thou mad'st the day and night;
Thou art my sun, my shield, my guide,
Thy mercies o'er thy works preside;
And all thou dost is right.
3.
Thou most adorable, most unador'd!
To me all needed grace and strength afford,
My wand'ring footsteps lead;
O may thy care my life protect,
Thy wisdom all my ways direct,
And I am blest indeed.
4.
All comforts I enjoy below,
Do from thy boundless mercy flow,
Thou great and good supreme!
Be thou my guide till life's no more,
And when I've gain'd th' eternal shore,
My everlasting theme.

A PSALM FOR A PERSON UNDER AFFLICTION.

I will sing of mercy and judgment; unto thee, O Lord, will I sing.

PSALM ci.1.
1.
THO' ling'ring illness, pain, and grief,
Attend me here below;
God can in all give sure relief,
And soften every woe.
[Page 202]
2.
Tho' call'd the loss of friends to mourn,
Afflicted day and night;
I'll cry, O Lord, thy will be done,
And say of all, 'Tis right.
3.
God will in trouble be my friend,
And best physician prove;
And take me when this life shall end,
To dwell with him above.
4.
Then come disorders soon or late,
I'll only patience crave;
And trusting in my saviour wait,
For bliss beyond the grave.
5.
What's life, with all our joys below,
To finite creatures given?
What's all the pleasures mortals know,
To endless joys in heaven?
6.
In Christ alone I would rely,
On him I'll daily call;
I'm his for life, and when I die,
He'll be my heav'n and all!

A PSALM FOR A FAMILY.

1.
TEACH us, O Lord, in all our ways,
With cheerful hearts to sing thy praise;
Thy glorious name forever bless,
And sound aloud thy righteousness.
2.
In health and sickness, life and death,
May this employ our latest breath;
Thy tender mercies to record,
And praise the goodness of the Lord.
3.
For thou hast been our sure relief,
When in affliction, pain and grief:
Tho' sorrows rose, and doubts prevail'd,
Thy comforts, Lord, have never fail'd.
[Page 203]
4.
Shouldst thou see fit, most gracious God,
On us to lay thy chast'ning rod;
O teach us still thy grace to own,
Lord, not our wills, but thine be done.
5.
Make us to see thy love in all,
And willing to attend thy call,
O may our thoughts ascend on high,
On endless joys beyond the sky.
6.
There may we meet when time's no more,
On that eternal blissful shore;
From pain, and grief, and sorrow free,
To dwell forever, Lord, with thee.

A PSALM OF PRAISE, FOR MERCIES RE­CEIVED.

1.
GREAT God accept my feeble song,
My weak attempts to praise:
Do thou assist my faultering tongue,
To sing thy sovereign grace.
2.
In childhood, youth, and riper years,
Thou hast my guardian prov'd;
In danger, calm'd my restless fears,
In trouble, doubts remov'd.
3.
When sorrow, pain, despair or grief,
Hath overwhelm'd my soul;
Thy word hath yielded sweet relief,
While thou hast made me whole.
4.
Thy goodness hath my wants supply'd,
And fed me day by day,
Thy wisdom, Lord, hath been my guide,
And pointed out my way.
5.
In thee my soul at anchor rides,
Through life's tempestuous sea;
For whom have I in heav'n besides,
Or in this world but thee.
[Page 204]

A PSALM FOR A PERSON IN PRIVATE, PRAISING GOD FOR HIS GOODNESS.

1.
THE Lord is gracious, kind, and good,
He daily grants me health and food,
'Tis he alone preserves my ways;
Sing, O my soul thy maker's praise,
2.
In ev'ry trouble, pain, and grief,
His promises are my relief,
For God hath said, who cannot lie,
None shall to me in vain apply.
3.
If sinners call, he'll lend an ear,
And will a present help appear;
He is in ev'ry time of need,
A God at hand,—a friend indeed.
4.
Then, O my soul, on him depend,
To his most gracious laws attend;
To him make all thy troubles known,
God can relieve, and God alone.
5.
Should friends forsake, and riches cease,
Should health decay, and pains increase;
Should death approach, as soon it must,
I'll still pronounce my maker just.
6.
Th [...] he the sharpest trouble sends,
I know 'tis for the wisest ends;
He's wise and just in all his ways,
To HIM be everlasting praise.

A FATHER's PRAYER FOR HIS CHILDREN.

1.
O GOD! whose kingdom fix'd above,
To babes is liken'd well,
Where innocence abides with love,
And peace and meekness dwell:
2.
Look down!—a father's sorrows read,
A father's succour lend!
The babes, in whose behalf I plead,
Could never thee offend.
[Page 205]
3.
Their infant years from danger keep,
Nor yet in age forsake;
By night protect them when they sleep,
And watch them when they wake.
4.
Let not the guileful snares of youth,
Their hearts from virtue draw;
Preserve them in the paths of truth,
And guide them in thy law.
5.
Let not th' offences of the fire,
Upon the child descend!
But spare the guiltless in thine ire,
And let thy judgments end.
6.
Bread, and a father's blessing give,
The children's wants supply;
And in thy precepts let them live,
As they would wish to die.

A PSALM OF PRAISE.

1.
SING, O my soul, his praise,
Who came and died for thee!
Whose love redemption's work displays,
For such a worm as me.
2.
O may I spend my breath,
In this delightful song;
And join'd with angels after death,
The endless theme prolong.
3.
Let all I have and am,
His sacred name record;
Who was on earth the dying lamb,
But now my risen Lord!
4.
To him, as justly due,
Eternal praise be given;
To thee, most holy, just and true,
Who made both earth and heaven.
5.
Ye saints who dwell on high,
In endless realms of light;
[Page 206]While ye [...] su [...]round his majesty,
In songs of praise unite.

A PSALM OF PRAISE, COMPOSED WHILE THE AUTHOR WAS TAKING A RETIRED WALK IN THE COUNTRY.

1.
WHILE here I pass the fields of corn,
Where num'rens flow'rs my path adorn,
O may my 'spiring foul arise,
And mount above these lower skies.
2.
Here let me dwell on joys divine,
In songs of praise with angers join;
While trees, herbs, flow'rs that round me grow,
The Almighty's works and wisdom show.
3.
Ye scenes of carnal vain delight,
Which drown the sense and charm the sight;
Ye earthly joys, which most pursue,
Fantastic pleasures, all adieu.
4.
This life at best is but a dream!
Jesus! be thou my endless theme.
Then welcome death's last solemn call,
Vain world farewell, my God's my all,

A HYMN IN PROSE.

1. THE spring is pleasant, but it is soon past:—

The summer is bright, but the winter destroy­eth the beauty thereof.

The rose is sweet, but it is surrounded with thorns: The lily of the valley is fragrant, but it springeth up amongst the brambles.

The rainbow is very glorious, but it soon vanisheth away; life is good, but it is quickly swallowed up in death.

There is a land, where the roses are without thorns, where the flowers are not mixed with b [...]ambles.

[Page 207]In that land there is eternal spring, and light with­out any cloud.

The tree of life groweth in the midst thereof▪ ri­vers of pleasures are there, and flowers that never [...]ade.

Myriads of happy spirits are there, and surround t throne of God with a perpetual hy [...]n.

The angels with their golden [...]rps sing praises continually, and the cherubims fly on wings of fire!

2. This country is Heaven: It is the country of those that are good; and nothing that is wicked must inhabit there.

The toad must not spit its venom amongst turtle doves, nor the poisonous hen bane grow amongst the sweet flowers.

Neither must any one that doeth [...]ll, enter into that good land.

The earth is pleasant, for it is God's earth, and it is filled with many delightful things.

But that country is far better; there we shall not grieve any more, nor be sick any more, nor do wrong any more; there the cold of winter shall not wither us, nor the heats of summer scorch us.

In that country there are no wars nor quarrels, but all love one another with dear love.

3. When our parents and friends die and are laid in the cold ground, we see them here no more; but there we shall embrace them again, and live with them, and be separated no more.

There we shall meet all good men whom we read of in holy books.

There we shall see Abraham, the called of God, the father of the faithful; and Moses, after his long wanderings in the Arabiah desert; and Elijah the pro­phet of God; and Daniel, who escaped the lion's den; and there the son of Jesse, the shepherd's king, the sweet singer of Israel.

[Page 208]4. They loved God on earth; they praised him on earth; but in that country they will praise him better, and love him more.

There we shall see Jesus, who is gone before us to that happy place; and there we shall behold the glory of the high God.

We cannot see him here, but we will love him here: We must be now on earth, but we will often think on heaven.

That happy land is our home; we are to be here but for a little while, and there forever, even for ages of eternal years.

THE ADVANTAGES OF EARLY RELIGION.

1.
HAPPY's the child whose youngest years.
Receive instructions well;
Who hates the sinner's path, and fears
The road that leads to hell.
2.
When we devote our youth to GOD,
'Tis pleasing in his eyes,
A flower when offered in the bud
Is no vain sacrifice.
3.
'Tis easier work when we begin
To fear the Lord betimes;
While sinners that grow old in sin,
Are hardened in their crimes.
4.
'Twill save us from a thousand snares,
To mind religion young;
Grace will preserve our following years,
And make our virtue strong.
5.
To thee, ALMIGHTY GOD, to thee,
Our childhood we resign;
'Twill please us to look back and see,
That our whole lives are thine.
[Page]

INDEX.

  • LINES, addressed to the fair readers of the Mental Flower Garden, Page. 7
  • To Philenia; occasioned by reading her Poem, entitled the Virtues of Nature, ib.
  • Ode to a Young Lady, on dress; Page. 9
  • The Natural Beauty, ib.
  • A Character, Page. 10
  • The Progress of Life. Page. 11
  • The Invitation, Page. 12
  • The Violet, Page. 14
  • On Beauty, Page. 15
  • The Bird's Nest, Page. 16
  • A Female Character, Page. 17
  • The Winter of Age, Page. 18
  • The Lily of the Vale, ib.
  • The Triumph of Love, Page. 19
  • Verses on Miss B—, Page. 20
  • A New-Year's gift, addressed to the Ladies, ib.
  • The Female Friend, Page. 21
  • The Lovely Twins, Page. 22
  • Rhapsody on Miss Mary —, Page. 23
  • Verses, written by an American gentleman on his arrival in London, ib.
  • On the marriage of Miss S—, to Mr. H—, Page. 24
  • Epigram on a Lady, Page. 26
  • Letter to Maria, ib.
  • — from an Aunt to her Niece, Page. 29
  • The Bashful Man, Page. 31
  • To a Young Lady on her first coming to the City, Page. 33
  • To Samuel Sophistry, Esq. Page. 35
  • From a Lady to W. Z. Esq. giving a sketch of his character, Page. 37
  • From a sensible female to a foppish gentleman, Page. 38
  • [Page]Writing pieces in prose and verse, Page. 38
  • Remarks on Poetry, Page. 49
  • Good nature, the chief source of connubial happiness▪ [...].
  • Advice to the Fair Sex, Page. 51
  • On Modern Fashion▪ Page. 52
  • Verses to Anna, Page. 53
  • The Lass of Maiden L [...]ne, ib.
  • The smiles of Complacency, Page. 54
  • Lines to Emily, Page. 55
  • Verses to Mira, on removing into the country, ib.
  • The Governess a simile, Page. 57
  • A Father's advice to his Daughters, ib.
  • On a young Lady's singing, Page. 58
  • Elegy on the death of Miss W—, Page. 59
  • An elegant Simile, Page. 60
  • On Virtue, ib.
  • On Religion, Page. 61
  • — the Resurrection, Page. 64
  • — True Politeness, Page. 65
  • Rational Love, Page. 67
  • Extract, ib.
  • Thoughts upon Female education, Page. 69
  • On knowing your condition, Page. 7 [...]
  • Of behaviour to superiors▪ Page. 76
  • — your equals, ib.
  • — Inferiors, ib.
  • — at School, Page. 77
  • — to Paren [...], Page. 78
  • — in the Family, ib.
  • — Company, [...]
  • To make a Courtesy, [...].
  • — give or receive any thing, Page. 80
  • — walk gracefully, ib.
  • On the importance of Time, Page. 81
  • Rules and observation necessary for young Ladies, ib.
  • [Page]Recipe for a Lady's dress, [...]
  • Abridgment of Sheridan's pronouncing dic­tionary, Page. 83
  • Letter I. from Portia to Sophia, Page. 93
  • II. on Reading, Page. 95
  • III. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 96
  • IV. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 97
  • V. On Geography, Page. 98
  • VI. — Sewing Page. 100
  • VII. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 102
  • VIII. on Cleanliness, Page. 103
  • IX. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 105
  • X. On Friendship, Page. 106
  • XI. On Friendship, Page. 110
  • XII. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 113
  • XIII. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 114
  • XIV. on Virtue, Beauty, &c. Page. 116
  • XV. on Chastity, Page. 121
  • XVI. from Sophia to Portia, Page. 127
  • XVII. on Modesty, &c. Page. 128
  • Cards of Compliment, Page. 136
  • Account of Miss Dorothy Schlozer, Page. 138
  • — a Female Surgeon, Page. 141
  • Life of Madame Du Chatelet, ib.
  • Dialogue I. Shewing how a young Lady may make every one love her, Page. 144
  • II. On a proud and haughty carriage towards inferiors, Page. 145
  • III. On reading the Scriptures, Page. 149
  • IV. Reflections on reading the Scriptures, Page. 152
  • V. On Death, Page. 154
  • Religious Dialogue, Page. 158
  • A concise poetical description of English Grammar, Page. 174
  • Hints with regard to making P [...]n [...], &c. Page. 183
  • On the New-Year, Page. 184
  • [Page]On Evil Speaking, Page. 18 [...]
  • — Pride, Page. 18 [...]
  • — Family Affection, ib.
  • — the grace of God, Page. 187
  • — Modesty, ib.
  • — Truth in Speaking, Page. 188
  • — Good Friday, Page. 189
  • — a choice of Books, ib.
  • — Sloth, Page. 190
  • — the Third Commandment, Page. 191
  • — the Fourth Commandment, ib.
  • — the Fifth Commandment, Page. 192
  • — Anger, ib.
  • — a proper behaviour to Superiors, Page. 193
  • — Dissipation, Page. 194
  • — Christmas-day, ib.
  • Address to the Deity, Page. 195
  • Hymn on our Lord and Saviour, Page. 198
  • Sovereign Love, an Ode, ib.
  • On our duty to God, Page. 200
  • Address of gratitude and veneration to the great Creator, Page. 201
  • Psalm for a person under affliction, ib.
  • — for a family, Page. 202
  • — of praise for mercies received, Page. 203
  • — for a person in private, praising God for his goodness, Page. 204
  • A Father's prayer for his Children, ib.
  • A Psalm of Praise, Page. 205
  • — composed while the Author was taking a retired w [...]k in the Country, Page. 206
  • A Hymn in Prose, ib.
  • The advantages of early Religion. Page. 208

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