%m m mam •.'- ■ ■ 55 DUKE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Treasure %oom LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, ON A VARIETY OF O8KF0L AND INTERESTING SUBJECTS. • ALCULATFD TO IMPROVE TIT C HEART, TO FORM THE MANORS AND ENLIGHTLN THL UKDr.R-TANDlNG. "That our DAUGHTERS mr dare to repose any of our secret*, our concerns or our sorrows, in her p\ mpathizing breast. LF.Tr£ll V. MY DEAR GIRL, IJb your n,iod is in a proper frame, every thing in you and about you will jnculc ate the necessity, unci prompt you to the continual exercise of, devotion. Yon will tin:! ) ourseli encompassed with innumerable fears, v e.;kuesAes, wants, Borrows, diseases, wishes, hope 1 under which all human creatures v ill be unable to at ss', or give you any adequate ra;i-.-f ; but w bete v< you. cast your eyes, you will, at the same time, be eK viioucd with the immensity of a B:ing, who is possess LZl'lTRS tO A, TOC*NG LADY 13 td c f all possible perfectionsi and who holdeth the is- sues of lite and death, of happiness and misery, solely in his hands. The power, majesty, grandeur and wisdom of this Being are discernible in every part of your frame, in ivory function of your body, and operation of your mind, nay, in the curious and exquisite formation of every animal and insect. r I hey are seen, on a still sub* timer stale, in the bize, the distances, grandeur, and wonderful revolution of the heavenly bodies ; in the beautifully variegated canopy of heaven, in all the deli- cious landskips of nature, in the pleasing succession of day aud night, spring and autumn, summer and winter. In short, winds and storms, thunder and lightning, earthquakes and volcanoes, the grund, magnificent o- cean, waves and comets, fulfilling his word, appearing and receding at his sovereign command ; flowers, blos- soms, fruits, fossils, minerals, petrifactions, precipices, hills, caverns* vallies, all tell you, that their Former is immensely magnificent, " that he doeth what he will in the armies of heaven, and amongst the inhabitants of the earth, and that none can withstand the thunder of his power." This God then is able to gratify your wishes, and support you under all your suffering ; he has wisdom enough to protect and guide you ; the question then is ; is he willing I On this head, hearken to all nature, for it speaks aloud. Look through the numberless orders and gradations of animals, insects, nay the meanest rep- tilts, and you will be astonished with the attention thai has been lavished on them, in the contrivance of their frame, the allotment of their situation, and the provis- ion, made for their continual support. Tkerj are happy. Shiit your eye to all the inanimate creation, and you will find it a scene of harmony, of order and beauty, god seemingly constructed for our gratification. Love- ly picturesque views delight our imagination ; shrub* and plants and flowers regale us with aromatic smells. But u poet of very descriptive talents, shall speak on this occasion ; B 14 LEtTERl TO A YOUNG LA TV. Wherefore nature's form So exquisitely fair ? her breath perfum'd T A'ith such ethereal sweetness ? whence her voice, Inform'd at will, to raise or to depress Th' impcssion'd soul, and whence the robes of lightj Which thus invest her with more lovely pomp, Than fancy can describe ? whence but from T/ice f O source divine of never failing love, And thy unraeasur'd gv)odness ? not content With ev'ry food of life to nourish man, Thou mak'st all nature, beauty to his eye, Or music to his ear ; well pleas d he scans The goodly prospect, and with inward smiles, Treads the gay verdure of the painted plain, Beholds the azure canopy ot heav'n, And living lamps, that overarch his head With a more than regal splendor, knds his ears To the full choir of water, air, and earth. In evVy p.'.rt We trace the bright impressions of his hand, In earth, or air, the meadow's purple stores, The moon's mild radiance^ or the virgin form, Blooming with rosy smiles, we see pourtray'd That uncreated beauty, which delights The mind supreme — Indeed, if you reason for a moment, why could the Al-» mighty create at all, but to diffuse and variegate enjoy- ment ? Inexhaustible source of happiness, from all e- teraity, he needed not, and, in fact, could aot receive^ an addition to his own* In himself supremely blessed, fountain of eternal majesty and splendor, adored by se raphs, surrounded by myriads of angels and archan- gels, what dignity could he derive from the existence, or services of man, who is but a worm, or the produc- tion often thousand worlds ? It was infinite wisdom, therefore, that sketched out the plan of universal nature, and all- communicative goodness;, that bade so many worlds exist, and bade thero to be happy. The su» LETTERS TO A YQUtftS LADY. 15 preme and gracious Former wished to communicate some scattered rays of his glory and his blessedness to this extended world of matter and of life, and has there- fore replenished every leaf, every drop of water^ and circry possibility of space with shoals of inhabitants ; for Scarce buds a leaf, or springs the lowest weed, But little flocks upon his besom (^cd ; No fruit our palate courts, or taste or smell, But on its fragrant bosom, nations dwc!!. Is it not then a certain conclusion, that he created you, as well as all inferior animals, for happiness ? On this you mav depend, as much as you can upon the cer~ t'rinty cf your existence ; and that he is always more iviiiing to be your protector, than you are ready to re- quest it. Open the sacred book, and from beginning to end, it will confirm this opinion, and exalt your ideas of the divine perfections. " 1 delight in exercising loving- kindness, saith the Lord. — The Lord is good to all, and his tender mercies are over all his works. If he clothes the grass of the field, which, to-day, is, and to- morrow is cast into the oven, how much more shall he clothe you, O ye of little faith ?" That religion is built on wrong notions, or a melancholy temper, that fills us with imaginary terrors. All nature breathes a lan- guage of hope and mercy. And nature is the messen- ger of God. It is true there is evil in the world, as well as good ; there are marks of judgment ', as well as mercy. There are hurricanes, as well as fanning breezes ; noxious are intermixed with useful animals ; poisonous and salutary herbs grow beside each other, and roses have their thorns. There are wars and rumors of wars ; there are earthquakes, that desolate whole countries ; a thousand forms of disease ; a thousand modifications of sorrow, anxiety, death. If he, who sits at the helm, be so gra- cious, whence all this disorder , ? If his infinite power be ttTTF.il TO A YOUNG LAtiY. combined with equal wisdom and goodness, why did he not prevent it ? If men were not to be free agents, the total preven- tion of sin and evil seems an impossibility. Moral liber- ty could not consist with a mechanical, forced obedi- ence ; and if v e had not been free, the idea of punish- ments or rewards, of a heaven or an hell, would be the greatest of all possible absurdities. So that the ques- tion ultimately amounts to this, whether it was proper for the Almighty to create such a world at all ? Had we not better reserve the propriety of this conduct to be disputed with hira, at his great tribunal ? There, I doubt not, w r e shall be amply convinced, that the crea- tion was a work of infinite mercy, as well as power, and that a greater degree of happiness, than misery has a- risen from it. There too, when we are able to discern with glorified eyes, the whole chain of causes and ef- fects, from the beginning, to the end of time ; the de- pendence of one link of being on another, and of worlds, on worlds ; this evil we now complain of, may become a means of exalting our ideas of the attributes of the Almighty ; and we shall Mush at ourselves for even having questioned his goodness for a moment, or en- couraged a reasoning pri-de, so ill becoming creatures, whose days are few, whose strength is weakness, whose wisdom folly ; and who, in the present immurement of their understanding, scarcely know the nature of a blade of grass, or of the very ptbbles, on which they tread. This question concerning the origin of evil has puz- zled the whole tribe of reasoners and philosophers, from the creation, to the present moment. i he scripture a- lone has solved the enigma to our satisfaction. This deranged state of things is the providential punishment of guilt, but at the same time, contrived in mercy, as a salutary regimen, and as a mode of purifying fallen creatures for the innocence and happiness of a better world. It is a chaos, fitted to our present constitution, and will refine as ice do, into its primitive beauty and LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 17 splendor. " There shall be new heavens and a new- earth, wherein dwelleth righteousness. The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard lie down with the kid, when the earth is full of the knowledge of the Lord, as the waters cover the seas." Resignation, in the mean time, has a balm for suffering, and the faith of a christian u lookethto a better country, with foundations, whose builder and maker is God." But speculations apart, if you draw nigh to the Al- mighty, he will draw nigh to you ; if you seek his fa- vor and friendship, all things shall work together for your good. Tribulation, anguish, nakedness, or famine, or peril, or the sword, will all be so many instruments, in his hands, of procuring your eternal happiness and glory. Remember the gift of his only Son, to be a sacrifice for your sins, and it is more than a thousand lessons of a mercy beyond a parallel, and that far exceeds all hu- man comprehension. On so delightful a subject, it is diilicult to stop one 3 pen, or restrain the sallies of imagination. This idea of the Supreme Being, casts a delicious fragrance over all the real enjoyments of life. It gives an inexpressi- ble poignancy to friendship, and to the affection, with which I shall ever feel myself inviolably yours. LETTER VI. MY DEAR CTRL, DEVOTION, considered simply in itself, is an in- tercourse betwixt us and God : betwixt the supreme, self-existent, inconceivable spirit, which formed and preserves the universe, and that particular spirit, with which, for awful reasons, h* has animated a portion of matter upon earth, that we call man. It is a silent act, in which the soul divests itself of outward things, flies into heaven, and pours forth all its wants, wishes, hopes, fears, guilt or pleasures, into the bosom of an almighty friend. B 3 18 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Though this devotion, in its first stages, may b* a wearisome or insipid exercise, yet this arises merely from the depravity of nature, and of our passions. A little habit will overcome this reluctance. When you hive fairly entered on your journey, " the ways of this wisdom will be ways of pleasantness, and all its paths, peace." True devotion, doubtless, requires a considerable de- gree of abstraction from the world. Hence modern christians treat it as a vision. Hence many modern writers have little of its unction. But it glows in trw scriptures. It warms us in the fathers. It burned in an Austin, and in many others of those persecuted mar- tyrs, who are now with God. That we hear little of it, is not wonderful. It makes no noise in the circles of the learned or of the elegant. Under an heap of worldly cares, we smother the lovely Infant, and will not let it breathe. Vanity, ambition, pleasure, avarice, quench the celestial fire. And these nlas ! are too much the god of mortals / Ever since the world began, writers have been amusing us only with ■shadows of this piety, instead of giving us its soul and substance. Superstition has placed it in opinions, cere- monies, austerities, pilgrimages, persecution, an august t"rr>p!e, or splendid imagery, which had little connexion with sentiment or spirit. Enthusiasm has swelled with u nnalural conceptions, and obtruded a spurious offspring on the world, instead of this engaging child of reason and truth ; whilst the lukewarm have rested in a ftw outward duties, which have had no vigor, and, as they sprung not from the heart, never entered the temple of the most High. Real piety is of a very different, and a much more an* i mated, nature. It looks up to God, sees, hears, fetla him', in every event, in every vicissitude, in all places, in all seasons, and upon all occasions. It is theory, vivifi- ed by experience. It is faith, substantiated by mental trijoymcnt. It is heaven, transplanted into the human L Ocfom. It is the radiance of the Divinity) warming and LETTERS TO A TOUNG LADY*. 19 encircling man. It is spiritual sense gratified by spirit- ual sensations. Without M/.?, all ceremonies are ineffi- cacious. Books, prayers, sacraments and meditation; are but a body without a sou 1 , or a statue without ani- mation. "That man is capable of such an intercourse with his Maker, there are many living witnesses to prove. With- out having recourse to the virions of fanatics, or die dreams or enthusiasts, it may be proved to spring from natural and phifo wphrcal causes. God n a spirit ; so is the mind. Bodies can have intercourse ; so can souls. When minds are in an assimilating state of purity, they have union with their Maker. Th's was the bliss of paradise ; sin interrupted, and holiness must restore it. To a soul, thus disposed, the creator ronmuoicates himself, in a manner, which is as insensible to the nat- ural eye, as the falling of dews, but not less refreshing to its secret powers, than that is to vegetation. The primitive saints are describing this, when they speak of their transports. David felt it, when he long- ed for God, as the heart panteth after the water brooks. St. Paul knew it, when he gloried in his tribulations. It was embodied in him, when he was carried up into the third heavens, and heard things, impossible to be utter- ed. St.' Stephen was filled with it, when he saw the heavens open, and prayed for his murderers. By it, martyrs were supported, when they were stoned, and ■awn asunder. And till we feel it in ourselves, we shall never fully know, how gracious the Lord is. If you can acquire this spiritual abstraction, you will, at once, have made your fortune for eternity. It will be of little moment, what is your lot on earth, or what the distinguishing vicissitudes of your life. Prosperity or adversity, health or sickness, honor or disgrace, a cottage or a crown, will all be so many instruments ®f glory. The whole creation will become a temple* Eve- ry event and every object will lead your mind to God, and in his greatness and perfections, you will insensibly loose the littltness, the glare and tinsel of all human things. 20 LF.TTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, If I wished only to set off your person to the great- est advantage, I would recommend this true sublime of religion. It gives a pleasing serenity to the counten- ance, and a cheerfulness to the spirits beyond the reach of art. or the power of affection. It communicates a real transport to the mind, which dissipation mirriics only for a moment ; a sweetness to the disposition, and a lustre to the manners, which all the airs of .modern politeness study but in vain. Easy in yourself, it will make yo« in perfect good humor with the world, and when you are diffusing happiness around }ou, here are, however, several little books, which will illus- trate and enliven the sacred writings, and enable you to read them with greater pleasure and advantage. J\U1- moth, on the beautiful and sublime of scripture, falls under this description. He will suggest some striking passages, which before may have escaped your observa- tion. The Comtesse le Genlis is entitled to the gratitude of all young people. She is possessed of an elegant taste, a splendid style, and a very enlightened under- standing. She has thrown into a dramatic form, sev- eral of the historical parts of the Bible ; and though the chastity of an English taste \\ not easily reconciled to seriousness "in so questionable a shape," her ingenuity sparkles through the whole performance, and has given it a pathos, an int,rest and brilia;icy, that will bo:h im- prove your heart, and delight your imagination. I scarcely know a woman, that deserves so much from the community at large, as INJrs. Trimmer. Her Sacred ITntory is a well known, useful performance : her unwearied labors for the service of the poor, in her Family Magazine, and her active patronage of Sunday Schools, bebpeak an heart, that is warm with benevo- lence, and an understanding of no ordinary size. The pride of philosophy and profound learning may, per- haps, look down on such attempts, as belie a :h their am* LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. bit ion. But how can talents be so usefully, or so amia- e«np] iyed, as when stripped of their gaudy plum- coadescend to instruct, to bless and reform the meanest of mankind. Metaphysical reasonings are for the learned few, and often mislead them ; these prac- ticable labors consult the good of millions, and will con- tinue to edify, when all such cobweb systems are total- ly demqlished, and their authors consigned to the ob- livion they deserve. There is not perhaps, a better method of turning serip- ture to advantage, than that used by the good Bishop Wilson, in his Sacra Privata. He selects a few, de- tached verses, and, "in his natural and easy style, raises upon each, a train of reflections, which must enkindle and animate the devotion of every reader. Doddridge's paraphrase on the New Testament may be justly recommended for its zeal, piety, earnestness of animation. Nor does it want the embellishments of a lively fancy, or of an easy unadorned language. But, like most dissenters of his time, he was a pupil of the Calvanistic school ; and though I shall never be a convert to his system, I cannot but approve the general air and spirit of his writings. There are few things or characters in life, any more than authors, that are form- ed to command an unreserved admiration. The most delightful landskips have their shades. The most ani* mated countenance has frequently some feature im- perfect or distorted. There will be accidental heats and iiush.es on the most delicate complexion. LETTER XI. THERE are several excellent manuals of private devotion. But f have no great opinion of these forms. Look into the history of your private life and the dis- pensations of Providence ; to what is daily happening within you, and about you, and your, own heart will be the best prayer-book in the world. If vou attend to its wishes, its breathings and its wants, you can never want languag ; or if you should, God is ever present anc LETTER 9 TO A YOUNG LADY. Z7 accept the naked wishes of your soul. A beggar, in great -distress, is always eloquent. His sighs and tears speak ; he feels what he wants, and he needs no artifi- cial arrangement of words. Still babes must be nour- ished with milk. There is a penod in the christian^ us well as the natural life, when leading strings are neces- sary 10 the infant I have known people fall inir- a total Hifwe of private- devotion, solely from a fancied poverty" of words. '( his is a very dangerous error. Prayers, drawn from books, are surely preferable to no prayers at 1:11. Artificial ex- ercisers better than total inaction, But prayer of the\ heart is that superior glow, which arises ftom motion in the open air, and exhilarates lis with a view of all the charming pictures and productions of nature. As a public system of devotion, that of our church is excellent. How simple and energetic is the language ! How rich and beautifully varied, are the collects ! How universal the prayers, extending to all conditions of men, situations of life, and comprising every wish and sor- row of the heart. If other forms do not please your taste, you may contrive to adapt some portion of this to your private occasions. Two capital traits will strike ycu in your liturgy ; the great stress, laid upon Jesus Christ, and the continual intercession for. the blessings of the holy spirit. These are, indeed, the grand lesson to be learned from it, as well as from the scriptures. They are the pillars of the church ; the life and blood of the christian system. Without the atonement of Christ, criminals as we are, there never could have been any hope of mercy ; with- out the assistance and graces of the spirit, we could net have been purified for the mansions of glory. If Christ has been called the sun of righteousness, the holy spirit is the air, which purifies and invigorates the whole mo- ral world, and preserves it from stagnation and putre- faction. Meditate frequently on the sufferings of Christ, till you abhor every Yin. that produced them j and in order LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. to l)j enriched with all graces and blessings, prav daii\ and fervently for his holy spirit. The good Bishop Kenn has a few words, in one of his hymns, which wondci fully epitomize our petitions and our wants : t Direct, control, suggest this day, All I design, or do, or sav, That all my pow'rs, with all their might, In thy sole glory may unite. LETTER XII. MY DEAR LUCY, YOUR sacred reading needs not to be wholly con- fined to the scriptures. A few other serious books will assist your piety, as well as serve to illustrate and con- firm the scriptures themselves. I cannot, in this respect, so much recommend modern sermons, as some little practical treatises of piety. Eng- lish discourses in general, by a strange, scholastic mis- management, are not sufficiently addressed to the heart. Either they are learned disquisitions, on some .specula- tive, controverted subject, more calculated to display a- bilities, than to edify ; or they are spruce, moral essays, with little more of Christianity in them, than might be gleaned from the works of Plato or Epictetus. They want that simplicity, fire, energy, animation, that bold- ness of images, appeal to the conscience, and that pic- turesque display of heaveniand hell, which give such an unction to the writings of St. Paul, and of the fathers. They do not thunder and lighten at tlje sinner ; they do not carry us by a whirlwind, into heaven, and shew us thrones and scepters ; they convince, but they do not animate : they glitter but they do not warm, Ancitnt divines have more fire and matter. They studied the scriptures, more than human systems. — * They were filled with the spirit j" they were men of watchfulness and prayers. A profane spirit of criticism or of philosophy, falsely so called, makes us cold and LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 29 languid. In pervading many learned or splendid pages, the heart is often left devoid of one, pious emotion. Many sermons, no doubt are to be excepted from this censure. Those of Archbishop Seeker contain a fund of solid matter, piety and instruction ; but the style is rather singular and uncouth. The marble is rich, but it is unpolished. There is such a thing, as an elegant sim- plicity. Seeker had a simplicity without this elegance. Few prelatei , however, have deserved so will from the church, or posterity. The metropolitan, though- placed in tlie bosom of a court, had neither pride, indo- lence, nor adulation. His vigilance was extraordinary ; his labors unremitting, and his crosier but an imperfect emblem of the real pastoral zeal, " which eat up his soul." The present Bishop of London has ail the sim- plicity of his illustrious patron, tissued with that ele- gance, which the archbishop wanted. His sermons have been universally read ; they are written on a truly evangelical plan : and their object is not merely to a- muse, bat to instruct and edify. LETTER XIII. EVERY person should read the discourses of Sher- lock, who wishes to see the grand dectzinss of Chris- tianity properly illustrated, and enforced with equal en- ergy of argument and language v Sherlock is one of the few original writers of sermons. He is the Locke of divinity, who anatomizes the whole system, and displays its component parts. Many authors glean all their matter from other hook** He borrowed Aft from the scriptures and reflection, hli thought many hours, for writing one. If all -men d wi- the same, the press would not groan with such continu- al abortions. Ogden's Sermons have vtry great, original merit. Perhaps I miscalled them ; they are, more proper!/, sketches on sacred subjects ; on the fundamental a.- ti- cks of the christian faith* There is more vigor, C 2. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, energy and conviction id one page of this writer, than in whole volumes of some others, who have received a much more general applause. The doctor seems particularly to have studied con- ciseness, and his miniature plan" sometimes leaves the features of his pieces indistinct. There is a singular abruptness in his transitions, and the mind is frequent- ly obliged to pause, in order to discover the invisible connexion, and unite the, seemingly, broken chain of ideas. These discourses were, probably, in their trig, tnal state, much more diffuse. He retrenched by de- grees, and, as an ingenious French writer once said, *-• had leisure to be concise." LETTER XIV. THERE is more popular eloquence, argument and pathos in Archbishop 1 illotson, than in almost any an- cient writer of Sermons, that I recollect. But his works are much incumbered with the scholastic divinity of his age, and strangely perplexed with divisions and subdi- visions. Unity of design is the beauty ©f all writings. A religious discourse should tend only to the enforcing ^ of out grand point. This should, always, be kept in sight, and the way to it should be as direct, concise and simple, as possible. Divines of the last century spent more time in proving what was self-evident, and illus- trating it by learned quotations, than would have suffic- ed for inculcating some lesson of piety, that would nev- er have been forgotten. Modern writers have judi- isly corrected this mistake. They come more /;;:- uta't/ to the poinr, and would think it as downright pedantry tp amuse their hearers, with a long list of wi it- ers, as to retail little scraps of Greek or Latin in con- versation. Atterbury was the pulpit Cicero of his day, and, for the beauty, sweetness and harmony of his style, has Stilt «m admirer in ever}' person of elegance and taste. But ■x he has uivays appeared rather graceful, than for* m LETTERS TO A YOtfNG LADY 31 cible, and more splendid, than impassioned. He is al- ways dressed for court ; and studied ornaments, how- ever rich, cannot but have an uninteresting uniformity. He is invariably a fine, flowing, pellucid stream, never that impetuous torrent, which overflows its' banks, car- ries all before it, and gives us the idea of sublimity and grandeur. Nature would have tired, if she had pre- sented us with nothing but fine, level extended lawns. She has wisely intermixed with heaths, barren rock?, and craggy precipices in her infinitely beautiful and va- negated landslips. LETTER XV. THE late, unfortunate Dr. Dodd owed, I should conceive, his great popularity to the advantage of his voice, person, manner, gesture and address. For in- deed his compositions have not intrinsic merit enough to have challenged any extraordinary applause. Weak, flimsy, superficial in his arguments, and rather plausible, than energetic in his language, it must have been only the popularity of his subjects, the new vein of pathetic, which he attempted, and his fortunate con- genial situation at the Magdalen, and in a metropolis, which, under the management of such advantages, pro- cured him his extensive, temporary reputation. But alas \ his popularity Was very dearly purchased ! it was built on the ruins of his innocence and virtue. — Happy, if he had lived and died in obscurity, or been an humble curate in some sequestered village, where jessamines had elapsed round his unenvied mansion, with uneFilightened rustics only for his associatss ! Ad- miration would not then have dazzled his eyes. His vanity could not have sought those unequal connexions, which he afterwards found himself unable to support, nor expensive pleasures led him to an action, which wounded religion in its Very vitals, and brought so touch disgrace on his sacred profession. Z2 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. He might, then, like many other excellent men, have c * fallen asleep, 1 ' amidst the tender offices of bewailing friends ; and grateful villagers, would have wetted his monument with tears of heartfelt gratitude and esteem. He is now a beacon, rising high in the bosom of the o- cean, which says to the wary mariner, " beware of rocks and quicksands." It has been said, that Dodd, in the beginning of his sacred office, was remarkably picus. What is the conclusion ? Hear it from com- passion. Bathed in t.ears, she lifts up her voice, and cries aloud, " Let him who thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he fall." Faringdon's Sermons have very singular merit. It is but seldom that so much vivacity finds its way into this species of writing. Thev will improve your heart : they will please your taste, and inchant your imagina- tion. It is many years since I read them ; but the impression they made upon my miry], will never be erased. If I durst invidiously, amidst their many excellen- cies, mention a defect, it is that they are not sufficient- ly fail of scriptural allusions. It is amazing what force and energy the judicious introduction of scriptur- al passages, authorities and images, gives to discourses of this nature. Th« rest may be the ingenious conjec- uresofthe author. These strike the reader with all the certainty and irresistible evidence of mathematical demonstration. Though genius and taste may be permitted to embel- lish, the sacred writings should be the ground-work of all pulpit productions. They should check our flights into the regions of fancy,, and they should guide us through the bewildering mazes of metaphysics. Faringdon, is long since dead, but the real # author of these Discourses is yet alive. I have long had the honor of knowing him, and as long have admired his talents. And of his virtues and great benevolence, he * Rev. Mr. «, Rector of W a. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 33 exhibited, I think, no ordinary proof, when, to serve the family of a deceased brother clergyman, he gave his time, his labor,' his abilities, and (what is more,) deni- ed himself the dazzling prospect of reputation. m LETTER XVI. YOUNG people are in raptures with (what they use to call) Sterne's Sermons. But true criticism will not give them so dignified a name. They are the sa- cred stories of scripture, embellished with his original talent at the descriptive and pathetic. They are his sentimental journey to Zion ; but have little more of true divinity in them, than they might have had, if such an heavenly personage, as Jesus Christ, had never lived in the wot Id, "nor published his gospel. Sermons, that aim only to amuse or entertain, are be* neath the pulpit. The? are the moral beauism of di- vines ; an attempt to mix all the colours of the rain- bow, with the dark solemnity of a most serious garb. They are music* playing in the ears of a man, whoss house is on fire, and can on! v beguile the' moment, which should be spent in saving all the valuables of his furni- ture, nnd escaping for his life. Discburses of this na- ture should alarm the conscience ; should display at once our misery and the mode of cure ; should' probe all the rankling sores of the heart, and pour in the pre- cious oil of divine consolation. Sterne was a very great, eccentric, original genius, but he was never formed for a clergyman. He had a levity of mind, that ill befitted so serious a character. What painter, in fancying an altar-piece, would have grouped a beau (Pesprit, or a facetious bon vivant, with our Saviour and his apostles at the last supper ? letter «xyn. THE Christian Pattern will abundantly recommend itself by the name. The translation oi it by Stanhope, 34 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. is too diffuse. Wesley has, more faithfully preserved the spiiit and concise energy of the excellent original. The singular merits of this little book is obvious from its translation into almost all languages. Gang ascribes it, with pride, to an Italian author. But whatever country gave it birth, it is filled with a s^red unction, and " the .wisdom which cometh fronvaflpc Read a chapter of it every dzy, and you will nev want a fund of christian meditations. There is more true piety and information, couched in Reflections on the seven Days of the Week, by Mrs. Talbot, than you will sometimes meetwih in large and splendid volumes. You cannot have a he'ter train of reflections for the beginning of your every da v. This good lady lived in the family of Archbishop Seeker, and seems to have imbibed that sp'frit of piety, which so eminently distinguished this illustrious prelate. is long since dead ; but her little book will live in the hearts of the pious, when time has tarnished all the lus- tre of more sounding names. I have alwavs thought, that little short treatises of this kind have done the most extensive good. We can carry them about us, and the size does not deter us from looking -within* People will not read forge trea- tises of religion, and writers, in this respect, should ac- commodate themselves to the weakness of mankind — Tender stomachs cannot digest rich, substantial food, nor much, at a time. - Addison's Saturday's papers are all of them inimita- ble. They contnin a rich fund of knowdedge and en- tertainment, raise the imagination, and improve the heart. The good man very judiciously appointed them for Saturdays. They are the best preparatives for be- ing " truly in the spirit, on the Lord's day. 1 ' Scott is not, perhaps, a lively or entertaining writer ; but his Christian Lite is a most excellent and rational system of divinity I Indeed subjects of this nature do not admit of so much colouring* as some others. Im- agination may better lend its charms to painters, poets, 1 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Gj orators, than to systematic divines. I think, however, that, even on sacred topics, genius might more fre- quently, embellish, than it docs. Young people will have language, pathos and picturesque images, or they will not read. Some little condescension is due to their weakness. Children must be cheated into the taking of useful medicines-. The pill should be gilded, and the bitter mixed with a sweet. LF.TTER XVIII. THE immortal Locke analyzed the powers of the human understanding. Mason on Self Knowledge is the anatomist of the heart. If you. would see yourself in your true colours, you must be daily conversant with this book. You should take it to your pillow, when you go to sleep. You should read it when you rise. It has however, in my idea, one capital defect. It is too much ramified into heads, divisions and subdivisions. The size of the house is too small for the numerous apart- ments. Though I am, by no means, partial to the latter, fan- ciful writings of Mr. Law, I will venture to recommend the two first books he ever produced, his serious Call, and Christian perfection. They are very awakening, animated treatises, written with great simplicity of style, strength of argument, and originality of manner. His Miranda is a very amiable character ; and, though her piety has something of the monastic, in its air, there are traits in the portrait that deserve your emulation. One cannot recollect the beginning of this good man's life, when his conceptions were so clear, and his man- ner so impassioned, without shuddering at the danger of giving wav to fanciful theories, or visionary writers. It is wonderful, that so very discriminating a g'-nius should have been, afterwards, shackled with the spiritu- al chemistry, and the unintelligible rhapsodies of Bell- men. But even the great and amiable Fenelon was liscipleof a visionary. He who wrote Telemachus, 35 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. fell into reveries. "We have this treasure in earthen vessels, and it will be tinged with our particular com- plexions." LETTER XIX. YOUNG's Night Thoughts have considerable merit, and may occasionally be read with advantage. But they are much discoloured with melancholy, and give Christianity, which is naturally cheerful, too dark a com- plexion. Born with no slender share of ambition, Young had anx- iously and unsuccessfully courted promotion, i ht bub- ble always burst, as he attempted to grasp i" ; the igtiits fatuus deluced him, as it has done thousands besides. — - Disappointment is generally followed with disgust, and disgust will always dictate to the pen. With all that sensibility, which is the inseparable con- comitant of genius, the author of the Night Thoughts had likewise the misfortune to be deprived by an early death, of several of those relatives from whose tender offices and soothing attentions, he might naturally have expected, in the evening of a gloomy life, to have re- ceived some consolation. Mis poems, therefore, have much the strain of Elegy, and his piety is breathed in sighs. But his Night Thoughts have awakened many into seriousness, anal you must take them as you do all (/.her, human things, with their good and their bad — The brightest pearl is surrounded with a mud. It is business of taste and judgment to make the separa- tion. The works of Wilson (the once bishop of Sodor and ..) are a treasure cf plain, practical devotion. His Indian instructed, his Parochialia, his Sacra Prtv and his treatise on the sacrament, are all serious anJ. in- terest! This < late has not displayed much genius on learning. Bat his writings ate useful, in proportion to j lainness, and will eddy thousands, who could nev- LETTERS TO A YuL N G LADY. 37 f r hive cornprehenled the depths of learning, or the Buhtilties of metaphysics* Thrown into an i/;normt and superstitious diocese, he stooped to the level of the meanest understanding. He considered himself as the father of his people, any th^y pii 1 him a filial dury and respect- The inlander prill visits Lis grave, *nd weeps at the recollection of his .deceased virtues. Such Bishops will live in the mem- ory of the faithful, when splendor i^ forgotten. His la- bours were unremitting, his z rj al primitive ; and if he gave no brilliance to the i».i:i*e, he aculed to its solid weight. LETTER XX. ations of St. Austin are admirable, hut have ci ifTercd not a little from the translation. Jt is, I still repeat ir, in these old books, that we chiefly find the t-., spi r i t () f pjetr. Has it evaporated, like some m ; o- eral waters, by a long preservation ? Or is it that we would be men of philosophy and criticism, rather thin divines? A modern theologian, plays about the head, but scarcely warms the heart ; an ancient writer car- ries ns, by an irresistible impulse, into heaven, and fills us wi'h all the raptiires of devotion., The difference wiTl he very forcibly illustrated by the different construction of ancient and modern churches. 'Ihe wide magnificence, the luminous darkness, the mouldering walls and long drawn aisle of gothic struc- ture U6 with a pleasing melancholy, thoughtful- and devotion; whilst the glaring light, artificial or- naments, primness and convenience of our modern syna- gogues fill us only with little, worldly ideas of elegance and taste. Beveridge^s private thoughts and resolutions richly rve a place in your collection. Thev are not ani- 1 or elegant, but they are pious and useful. He is cne of those hospital) 1 e friends? that gives us a verv D 33 t.;tti rs to a young lady. comfortable anil rich repast without ceremony or osten- ration, Ta\Ioris the Shakespeare of divinity. The fertility of hia invention, the force of his arguments, the richness of his images and the copiousness of his style are not to be parallelled in the works of ancient or modern wii- tcrs. His holy living and dying is a chief '(Vauvre. I do not remember to have received more pleasure and improvement from any book, that I have read for some time past, than from the two first volumes of Gan- ganehYs Letters. Besides being- surprised to see such a generous mode of thinking in the sovereign pontic, so much vivacity in a monk, tempered wiih sogreata share of unaffected piety, T was quite charmed with the sim- plicity of his style, the beauty of his metaphors, and that spirit of philanthropy, which pervades the whole, and does, all along, more honor to his heart, than his easy periods, to his understanding. There is something in the climate of Italy which ".vonderfully heats and sublimes the imagination. It is the garden of Europe, and its writers breathe thatagree- nble perfume with which it is scented. Ganganelli's description of this country is particularly splendid. — His statues breathe. His torrents absolutely murmur on the ear. His cliffs have an impending horror on the fancy; and his gardens waft upon us aromatic smells. I would still gladly hope, notwithstanding all that has been advanced to the contrary that these letters really came from this distinguished person. I am net willing to give up the idea, that liberality of sentiment has ex- tended itself even to the papal throne. LETTER XXI. MY DEAR LUCY, YOU would observe from the complexion of my last' tter, that I have recommended writers of -very differ- sects, and from various denominations of christians. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY The truth is, I hive considered their spirit and tenden- cy, and not their name or party. I do not waift lo make yon a methodist, a dissenter, a mystic, a papist, a fanatic, an enthusiast, or arty thing bat a real chris- tian. I should wi = h to divest your mind of every spe- cies of bigotry, and convince you that real piety has ex- isted under every communion. When your judgment is more matured, you should examine authors of all different persuasions, as the Gre- cian artist did women, when he wished to paint his Ve- nus of Medici. He selected from every one he saw, the particular limb or feature, in which they separately excelled. From one he borrowed the most beautiful eye ; from another, an hand ; from a third, a bosom, &c. These, by a wonderful effort of genicn, he com- bined into a perfect whole. All.syslems. like all human figures, have their de- fects ; but they have likewise, their excellencies. Col- lect these, distinct charms, and work them up in the crucible of your heart, till they produce " the very beau- ty of holiness" in your life and conversation. Above all, look through all books and forms and ordin- ances, up to your God. Cherish, by every method, a spirit of devotion. Set the L«-»rd always before you. — Consider him, as the soul of the world, the Alpha, and Omega, the beginning and the end. Think, act, live, as in his presence, and do every thing to his glory. Be- gin, continue and end every day, as ia his sight, and every action, as under his direction. Remember that all things on earth are but a shadow ; that time is tumb- ling down the system of the universe, and that religion only can rise upon the ruins, by the labours it has in- scribed to Eternity and God. LETTER XXII. MY DEAR GIRL, THOUGH it may appear to be dealing with you in dry abstracted subjects above your age, yet I do think 40 LETT IRS TO A YOUNG LADY. it necessary, that vou should understand the grounds, on which your faith is built, or the testimony which -oiiErms the truih of Christianity, and of the scriptures. Vou will thus be preserved iroin an uncomfortable fluc- tuHiiun of opinions, and guarded from the false insin- uations of those, that lit in wait to deceive. I believe, indeed, we very falsely estimate the period, at which the talents of women begin to open, as well as the degree of their extent, and comprehension, and su- perciliously withhold from you, that solid information, which alone in either sex, can be the true foundation of a rational a steady and consistent conduct. This testimony in favor of revelation, is divided, for the sake of order, into two kinds, internal and external. The internal is that, which arises from the nature and excellency of the precepts themselves, and from the writer's having had no private or sinister views fo an- swer, but corfoldtirtg only ;he general good and e^jf lion of mankind. The first mark of authenticity is fixed on every page of the scriptures. The laws of Christ are of such a na- ture, as no man would have frame*!, who wished to a- vail himself of the passions, pu indues and interests of mankind; for the) prescribe, on the other hand an uni- versal humility, mortification and self denial; exhibit in the strongest colours, the emptiness of riches, and the vanity of ambition ; and have no other \ie\v, but to ele- vate the affections, regenerate the heart, and put all men on looking beyond the transient concerns of tkis life, to the happiness of another. What else could happen to the original promulgers of these laws, but that 3 which actually did, violence and persecution? Our blessed Lord positively declared that his king- dom was not of tiiis world. He sought none of its dis- tinctions and he received none, unless, by a strange perversion of ideas, we place them in the poverty of a -, or the toi A his cross. 13 is apostles were LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADT. 41 inflamed with the very same, disinterested zeal. They willingly resigned lucrative employments at the call of their master; they'bheeriully abandoned weeping friends — undertook the most hazardous voyages and travels — had no rest day or ni>;ht, were carried before kings and governors of the earth, u and even hated by all men for h's name's sake." Read the account of their labours, persecution, ban- ishment, death; peruse the history of all the martyrs, written with their blood, and tell me, whether their zeal must not have come from heaven, or what could ever have inspired it, but a sincere conviction of duty, 4 - a faith, which looked to a city with foundations, whose builder and maker was God." LETTER XXIII. THINK, my dear girl, for yourself. Are there a- ny marks of secular wisdom or policy or imposture, in the conduct of the primitive aposiles and christians ? Examine the history of the whole world, as it relates to religion, and where else will you discover any por- tion of the same, disinterested spirit, which actuated these original publishers of the gospel I The Roman emperor instituted a sacred code to work upon the consciences, and to keep the minds of a sav- age and a barbarous people in subjection to govern- ment. Zoroaster, Lycurgus, Solon, all celebrated in their day, and certainly men of extraordinary talents, had more a view to policy, than any moral interests, in their respective systems of legislation. Mahomet a- vailcd himself of the narrow, sensual views, and pas- sions of his followers, and of the particular complexion and dissentions of his times, merely to be the sole, ex- clusive monarch of an extensive empire, and procure a little, fading honor and distinction. u The kingdom of all these men was certainly of this world," and their laws, in many instances, were repair. D 2 LETTtRS TO A JTOUNG L*DY. it to right reason, and the best and dearest interest of their fellow creatures. Oi his very enemies said, u never man spake like this man r" his injunc- tions had but one aspect — to universal happiness and one, simple method to ;t — universal reformation, The angels that announced him, at his first anptarance, pro- claimed, •• peace on earth, and gcoJ-v\ ill towards men." Nor is the wonderful progress of this religion, in so short a space of time, over all Asia, and a great part of Europe, indeed over almost the whole of the, then, known world, the least convincing proof of its divine original. Consider the missionaries— illiterate fishermen and mechanics, and you must conclude, either that they were endowed with supernatural gifts and assistance, or that their wonderful success was even a greater /;:;';- atlc, than the endowment, you dispute. On this subject, permit me to recommend to your serious perusal, Soame Jenyns's Internal Evidence of the Christian Religion. He is, on the whole, a fanci- ful writer ; but this is an excellent, little book, that has done much good, and comes with greater force, to eve- ry bosom, as he was once, according to his own candid confession, in the number of those, who disputed the sacred truths of revelation. You will receive great pleasure and improvement, likewise from Addison's Evidences of Christianity, arranged and collected into one volume, and from a late, similar production of the celebrated Dr. $catiitf« Every word of the scriptures, indeed, must convince any candid or thoughtful person, that they come from God. The passions, pride, vices and interests of man- kind have induced not a few to set up for sceptics. a Much learning has male them mad," or a little has rendered them frivolous and conceited. They have sought only to distinguish themselves by uncommon opinions \ they hftve been dupes to their own fancied LF.TTEKS I'O A YOUNG LALV. 43 penetration ; they have attempted to grasp the immtn- sity of the Deity j in arms ofj&a/j, or iia\c shrank into scepticism, as a refuse from their vices. Hear what the scripture saith, wt Every onf, that d< - eth evil, haleth the light, neither eometh to the light, lesj his deeds should be reproved. Except ye be- come as little children, (humble, docile, tractable,) ye cannot enter into the kingdom of heaven. Iiow can ye believe, which receive honor one of another, and stek not the honor, which cometh of God only j" LETTER XXIV. THE external testimony, in favor oi the christian religion, arises from propht cy, miracle?, and the cor- responding evidence of history. An I these seem to include all the probable methods, which heaven could employ for the conversion of mankind. The whole sacred book of die Old Testament i«, from beginning to end, a clear prediction of the Messi- ah. One of the prophets has foretold the precise year, in which this " righteous branch" should make his ap- pearance. And this event, you know, has taken place, to the comfort of the christian world. Others have predicted the destruction of Jerusalem, Babylon, Tyre, the dispersion and calamities of thc^ Jews, &c. long before they happened ; and all profane history, which has been written since their time, will inform you, that these awful judgments were wonder- fully accomplished, in their proper season. The Revelation contains darker hints of some events, that are visibly though gradually fulfilling, at this m< - men!. But as I can only glance at the subject, you will see it treated in such a manner, as to confirm your faith and exalt your devotion, in the late Bishop of Bristol (Dr. Newton's,) discourses on the Prophecies. The miracles of our Savior and of his immediate a- postles meet you in every page df the inspired book ; and in profane history, you will learn from those, who 4 I i £R8 TO A I M)Y. Mere . '. . xemits to the cause, that at a particular period oi" iirire< there dl /exist such a sacred personage, as Jesus Chri&t, \\!r» Wrought miracles, healed the sick, md raised the dead : s,lch a SlCt > as f hat of Christians, who met to receive sacrament, who bound themselves ■: oath, to commit no iniquity, practised a \v«n- . innocence and austerity of manners, and, be) ond ail example, loved one another. You will see likewise, in the same pages, a lull description of their manners, morals, ceremonies and religious institutions. The lapse of time, moreover, to us, who live in these idler limes, has gives an additional force to the evidenc- es in favor of revelation. The ingenious author of the Spectator, m hia day, considered the particular case of the Jews, their calamities, dispersion, vagabond, unset- tled state, &c. as a standing incontestable miracle y iu support of the sacred writers. They still continue (what is there so circumstantially foretold,) unable to incorporate with any people, and loaded with the hatred and abhorrence of all. The testimony, therefore from their history is proportionally more illustrated and confirmed. 'i he destruction of the Romish clurch, likewise, is palpably predicted in the scriptures : And, if we may judge from strong appearances, is daily approaching. The great and general diffusion of knowledge ; the con- sequent progress of religious toleration, and that dis- persion of the mists of prejudice from all eyes, produc- ed by the genial rays of a meridian sun, must, in time, effect the downfall of all tvranny and superstition ; whilst the emperor, employed in destroying monasteries, and encouraging population, appears an instrument in the hand oi Providence, for accelerating the approach of this auspicious moment. The late dismemberment, moreover, of territory from the Holy See ; the conten- tion, in which the sovereign pontiff has been involved by those monarchs, who ence trembled at his frown ; and the mere external deference only, which is paid to his authority, prove that his throne is tottering from its L F.T r E R3 TO A YOUNG L A L S . 45 base, and, like all other ham. in things, Approaching to its dissolution. Thus is oar holy religion founded on a rock, against which the winds and waves of infidelity beat in vain. Proud men may reason, an* 1 wicked men pretend to doubt, but M the very gates of hell shall not prevail against it.'' LETTER XXV. MY DEAR LUCY, WONDER not at the diversity of opinions in reli- gion. It has been from the beginnings and will continue to be the case, to the tnd, of the world. Men will never have the same religious sentiments, till you can give them the very same natural dispositions of humility, candor, teachableness ; the same capacity, education, acquaintance, or even the same set of features or the same complexion. The history of the church, from the fust moment, to the present, is an history of these diisentions. So soon as Christ and his apostles disappeared, men mixed u tares of human opinion with this good seed of the word." Even two of these apostles had a sharp con- tendon, and the spirit has never vanished from their successors. There has been the same fashion in religious opin- ions, as in common things. Particular notions have been abetted, laid aside, resumed and dismissed again, under different names and leaders, exactly like the va- rying modes of dress, furniture or entertainments. Nor is this the least impeachment of our holy reli- gion. The truth of that, like the God, whence it comes, is the " same yesterday, to day, and foreve-. ' It is reserved, as the privilege of a more glorious era, that all mm shall be of' 1 one heart and of one soul, and keep the unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. '* In all Iiuman systems of faith, there must be error. Where error is invohmtdnj, and springs from no crimin- al pasbion^, but only from a weakness or misdircctwn of ; TLKS TO A YOUNG LADY. judgment, the Almightv, who Ibolceth chiefly at life heart, doubtless, will forgive. Charity, in the mean time, is the great bond of union, amongst all parties. 44 They shall come from the east, and from the west, and sit down in the kingdom of God." If we hope to be companions in glory, u we should not surely fall out by the way." The christian blood, which has stained so manv ages of the church, has flowed from the most malignant and selfish passions. The gospel breathes nothing but uni- versal love, and candor and forbearance. u Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of," is the mild rebuke to every persecutor, that would slay with the sword. LETTER XXVI. THOUGH it is really invidious, yet for the sake of directing your judgment, and gratifying a very natura,! and laudable curiosity, I will give you a brier, compre- hensive sketch of the opinions of the more celebrated religious sects, that have prevailed in this kingdom. You will thus be able to form some comparative idea of their merits or defects ; you will not be so likely to be " tossed about with every blase of vain doctrine," and you will never feel yourself at a loss, in company, when they become the subject of conversation. Pagans are those who are wholly unenlightened with revelation, and worship idols, instead of the true God. These idols, have been various, as the caprices, or im- aginations of the people, amongst whom they are found ; sometimes fictitious beings, such as Jupiter, Apollo, Mercury, Mars, Juno, Venus, Minerva, he. some- times, good qualities personified ; Faith, Hope, Victo- ry, Concord ; sometimes animals, as Serpents, Croco- diles, &c. or ewn vegetables ; as Leek, Onion. Garlic. These last were objects of adoration amongst the Egyp- tians. Before the appearance of Christ, almost the whole world was covered with paganism. All the learning LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 17 and politeness of Athens and Rome could not dispel this ignorance. It h:is only vanished " where the sun of righteousness has appeared with healing in his wing=?." An ingenious writer has said, that if we divide the known countries of the globe into thirty equal parts, five will be Christians ; six, Mahometans, and nineteen, Pagans. How dreadful the reflection, that the greatest of all possible blessings should have penetrated but so small a way ! When we consider the privileges of ihe gospel, how gladly would one carry it, if it were possi- ble, into every country of the known world ! How ar- dently should we pray to our father in heaven, that his kingdom of grace may daily come on earth, and how thankful should we be to that gracious Providence, that has fixed our lot in a christian land, and under the en- livening beams of revelation ! LETTER XXVN. MY DEAR GIRL, MAHOMETANS are so called from being follow- ers of the great impostor, Mahomet. This extraordi- nary man was born at Mecca, in Arabia, about the mid- dle of the sixth century ; and, in his fortieth year, af- ter some time previously spent in the silence, retire- ment and austerity of a cave, presumed to style himself, the Apostle of God ; pretended to have received from heaven, a new and a last revelation, which was to illus- trate and inforce, what had been mistaken or perverted, in the christian, by the lapse of time or the sophistry ot men. He affected, likewise, a commission from above, Mgcntler methods should prove ineffectual, to propagate his particular religion by the sword. His tenets are contained in the Koran, which, for its singularity, is worth your reading. To give them plau- sibility, they are interspersed with some christian doc- trines, but, at the same time, carry a most artfel address to the passions : allowing polygamy, rnd describing the 48 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LA TV. future paradise, ns consisting principally^ of 9e>ii pleasures; splendid, silken garments ; rivers of water, wine, milk, honey ; music, feasting, and most beautiful women. Mahomet was a man of great talents and ambition. He had no view, but to render himself the sol- formidable monarch of an extensive empire. Reii was made the instrument for executing his wicked and tyrannical designs. Hence all hisausteriies, disgui deceptions. Hence he pretended such a familiar inter- course with heaven, and, bv his singular address, found* ed a religion, which has continued siic? his time, with little variation^ to overspread a considerable part of the world. It is professed by the Turks and Persians, »,. several nations amongst the Africans, and by many a- morigst the East Indians. The outline of it was sketched by the hands of a great master. It was suited to the climate ; it took advan- tage of the disorders and dissentions, then prevailing a- mongst Christians, and it promised a species of gratifi- cation, to which our nature will always feel the strong- est propensity. The bulk o( people, in any country, do not, indeed cannot, think or judge for themselves ; it will there- fore, always be in the power of thos*, who have any ufar talents, to make the multitude, their proselytes and slaves ; and thus., if we turn over the history of I world, shall we find the ambition, lust, and avarice of a tratnphing ori the dearest interests uftfl LETTER xxvm. 7 - ; F A R LUCY, 1 . ■ N D E R t h e n am e of C h r i s t i a n s . h o w c v e r d i flPe ring from each other in private opinions', or divided and Sub- divided amongst themselves, at included all those, who embrace the sacred revelation and doctrine of */>??/? Chriit. Amongst these, She Roman Catholics, both in point of numbers, and the figure they have made in the LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 43 history of Europe, may seem to claim some degree of precedence.* This religion, which has subsisted for such a length of time, and covered so considerable a part of the woi Id, is little else but a system of political tyranny establish- ed by the clergy, over the consciences and fortunes' of men, merely to enrich and aggrandize themselves. The)*, who should have aspired to no other greatness, but to become the servants of all for their eternal good, have undertaken " to lord it over God s heritage, and rule it with a rod of iron." Can any thing in the world be more inconsistent ? The Pope in all the plenitude of temporal power pre- sumptuously styles himself the vicar general of Jems Ovist ! that Jesus, who appeared in a manger, emptied himself of all his glory, and disclaimed all temporal greatness and distinction ! The public worship cf the papists is overloaden with ceremony. It is performed in a learned language, un- known to the vulgar, and intermixed with such a con- tinual change of dress, attitude and ceremonies, as arc only calculated to excite the ridicule of a rational and enlightened mind. The great, Supreme incomprehen- sible Spirit is only to be served with the heart and af- fections, and the most unlearned person in a congrega- tion should surely understand every prayer that is ut- tered. The Roman Catholics acknowledge the Pope for their head.. They think the church infallible in irs counsels and decisions, arid brand all, who differ fiom them, with the odious name of heretics, as people who are not within the pale of salvation. They keep the minds of poor people in ignorance ; they do not permit them to read the scriptures, but refer ihem»for instruction solely * The Roman Catholic religion is at this day the es- tablished religion of the following Countries, viz. Por- tugal, Spain, France, Italy, Bohemia, Hungary, Poland, and likewise part of Germany and Swisserland. E 5* ITERS TO A TOtfWC LADT. to their priests ; they maintain the necessity of confess- ing their sins and frailties to their pastor, and the val- idity of human absolution ; they believe the absurd and incomprehensible doctrine of transiAstantiatioriy or that the element of bread and wine, in the sacrament, are changed into the real body and blood of Christ ; they have been accused of worshipping images; saints, they certainly invoke, to be mediators for them ; they have swelled the number of sacraments to seven ; these are baptism, confirmation, the eucharist, penance, extreme unction, holy orders, and marriage ; they admit the doctrine of a purgatory after death, in which souls are refined from their former pollutions ; they forbid their priests to marry \ preach up the necessity, or superior sanctity of a single life, and induce as many people of fortune, as possible, to bury themselves in convents and monasteries, and pour their fortunes into the bosom of the church ; in some of the more corrupt ages, indul- p;rtices for the greatest crimes might be purchased with .'V • and every degree of guilt has had its stated sum of acquittance ; persecution for conscience sake, has been deemed meritorious, and their annals are stain- ed with the blood of thousands. There are, doubtless, multitudes of papists, who, in an enlightened age, shudder at many of these dreadful opinions, and laugh at others ; the gay and volatile peo- ple of France, in general ridicule them all ; and make a natural transition from the extreme of superstition, to that of unbelief. Whether these be, or be not., the principles of the present members, they are, indisputa- * The selling of these indulgences by John Tetzel, a Dominican friar, roused the spirit of Dr. Martin Lu- ther, Professor of Divinity in the University of Wit- tenburg, in the Electorate ot Saxon)'. He caused 95 theses, opposing this abuse and other errors, to be print- ed and nailed to the door of the Electoral Church, Oc- tober 31, l51T ; and this was the beginning of the Re- formation. LITTERS 10 A YOUNG LADY. I l.ly, the established doctrines of the' dburck, howevct varnished over by art, or evaded by affectation ; and though this people at present, are loyal, inoffensive sub- jects, and seemingly attached to the sovereign on the throne, yet there is reason to fear, that a renewal ot their power would be attended with" a repetition of their violence, and blow-up the seemingly extinguished em- bers of hatred and persecution. Such a many-headed monster should be carefully g tarded. Deluges of Am- man blood are not to be forgotten. For their sake, and for the honor of Christianity, I do most ardently wish their conversion. I long to em- brace, as brethren, a thousand, excellent men, who noxv live, as 1 cherish the memories of many, who have died y within the communion. Nor do 1 think the period is very distant* Bigotry cannot much longer be a weed in the highly cultivated state of Great Britain. I have before mentioned the emperor, as a probable instrument of this good work. His ambition, I trust, will thus be consecrated to the glory of God, and the welfare of mankind. The happiest events we celebrate, have, . sometimes, sprung from the impurest passions. Our own reformation from this church was singularly effect- ed.* The Almighty can bend the counsels of men, in such a manner, as to answer his sovereign designs. " He doeth what he will, in the armies of heaven, and amongst all the inhabitants of the earth." LETTER XXIX. THE Greek church is much less known amongst us, as to its doctrine or discipline, than the Roman. In- deed there are, comparatively, but few members of it in England. It was first established in Greece, from whence it derived its name, and extends to some other parts of Turkey.')' It is often called the eastern^ in con- *In the reign of Henry VIII. '\h is likewise the es» tablished church througnout the vast empire of Russia in Europe* 5S LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. tradistinctkm to the Romish, which is the western church. Though the professors of this religion disavow the supremacy of the Pope, and many other opinions of the Holy See, yet they are considerably tinctured with su- perstition. Their worship is overloaden with ceremo- ny, shew, I blend id dresses, fastings, austerities, &c. as well as the former. They are governed by bishops and patriarchs. Their head is the patriarch of Con- stantinople. LETTER XXX. MY DEAR LUCY, DISSENTER is a vague word, which, in its full latitude, may be applied to all, who differ from the es- tablished religion. Originally, however, it meant only one kind of people, then distinguished by the name of prclbyterians, who rather dissented from the discipline and polity, than the opinions, of the church. These, in general, embraced the sentiments of Calvin, relating to foreknowledge, divine decrees, irresistible grace, pre- destination, reprobation, Sec. They disclaimed episco- pacy, and their government was vested in presbyters and synods. The word presbyter, means an cider, and synod, an ecclesiastical council or assembly. The [resent race of dissenters may be strictly subdi- vided into two classes ; those who still retain the doc- trines of Calvin, and his mode of discipline, and call themselves from their form of government, Independ- ents ; and such, as assume the more specious title of protesXant dissenters. The first are extremely rigid and puritanical in their outward deportment ; but they do not breathe all the sweetness of piety, nor are their annals unstained with instances of intolerance and per- secution. Their leader was a fuiious and unrelenting bigot. His murder of the poor honest Servetus will be an eternal stigma on his memory, and throw a dark shade over his pretended virtues. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 5Z lacked how can people, with such sentiments, act otherwise ? If their God be only merciful to a few, e- lect, how should thiu think pf i-genvral benevolence ? If -he can be. cruel to so many millions o( creattires, where is the harm of imitating his example, or exter- minating thousands P I do not know that the latter kind of dissenter? have any settled code iof 'faith, " Every minister has a psalm of his own, has a doctrine, has an interpretation," so that very opposite sentiments, may be consistently deliv- ered by different persons, in the same pulpit. They \alue themselves highly, with what justice, on their learning, candor, and liberality. Far from being actu- ated with any blind or enthusiastic zeal, they seem to worship reason, as their guide, and sacrilegiously exalt it, almost on the ruins of revelation. Their danger is of falling into sceptism, the most alarming and incurable of all spiritual disorders. They are said, in general, to disbelieve the doctrine of the Tiinity, or the atone men r, and divinity of Christ, and unite with the Calvinists, in one sentiment, at least — tl|£t of abhorring episcopacy, and of considering the established church, as a syst raised by priestcraft, and supported by superstition. LETTER XXXI. THE methodises are comparative!;/ a new sect, and sprung up, about sixty years ago, under the auspices of John Wesley, and George Whitfield, then students at Oxford. They received their name, from affecting to live by a stricter regimen and method, than other people. They have been long divided into two classes, ac- cording to the different principles, espoused by their leaders. The first followed the opinions of Arminius, under the guidance of Wesley, who is still a very ven- erable looking patriarch, at their head ; and the o believing divine decrees, foreknowledge, reprobation and election, are more strictly members of the I E 2 5t LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. (only that they do not admit its discipline) having long since lost their original director.* I do not know, that the methodists, (particularly they, who follow Weslcv,) are dissenters from the es- tablishment, further than in having separate meetings to inkindle and inspirit the zeal of their followers ; a circumstance, which they con :cive to be much neglect- ed by the regular clergy. They are baptized with us ; attend our services and sacrament ; admire our litur- gy ; and only blame us for our-lukewarmness and want of energy and animation. This censure, it is true, comes but with a very ill grace from such a people ; but, I fear, we cannot easily refute it. They had originally a great share of enthusiasm. But it is greatly softened by the indulgence they have re- ceived, and mellowed down by time. They are no longer, a new ; they are no longer a persecuted sect. The journals of Wesley, written in the infancy of his career, are a strange medley of goodness and enthusi- asm. The old man has lived long enough to have seen his error, 'That glow of imagination is considerably a- bated, which mistook shadows for substance, and made liction pass for truth. The great error amongst this people, is their employ- ing such low, illiterate men, as their instructors, and fancying them under the immediate guidance of divine inspiration — preaching up the necessity of instantaneous conversion, and justification by a sort of miracle — mak- ing Faith to consist in a full assurance of salvation, and denouncing damnation against those, who have it not in this super-eminent degree — and lastly, in supposing this assurance to depend on certain, inward extraordi- nary impulses, rath-r than the scriptures. These sentiments lead many artful people into a wicked pretence of feelings and assurances, which they * George Whitfield. Both before and since his death, "t\e Countess of Huntingdon has been a persen of great ,;.ila§nse among the latter class of Methodists. LETTERS TO A tfOUNG LADY. 5& have not ; others of zvarm imaginations to the belief of what is only chimerical, and plunge still more of honest, timid minds, or an hypochondriacal temperament, into melancholy and despair. The Savior, doubtless, can forgive sins to xvhom, and at whatever moment, he pleases. A thief, upon the cross, was a miracle of his mercy ; but this is not the ordina- ry method of his providence ; there are, undoubtedly, thousands of excellent people, who pass through the world without such a full assurance of faith ; and the spir- itual life, like that of animals or vegetables, is generally progressive. We grow imperceptibly u from strength to strength," and, though the peace of God may be dif- fused through our consciences, we dare not say, i( that we have already attained/' The methodis's were, once, extremely lavish in their censures of others ; but justice obliges me to confess, that they are now, in general, an harmless, inoffensive and pious people. . If they be gloomy, it is their own misfortune ; if they go mourning all their days, theirs is the sorrow ; the world in general, is too dissipated and unreflecting. As to their leader, he is doubtless a prodigy. What- ever be the merit or demerit of his opinions, his indefa- tigable labours, activity, pilgrimages, zeal, and resolu- tion, challenge our amazement. An old man of nearly ninety, rising constantly at four o'clock in the depth of winter, preaching frequently, on the same day, journey- ing from place to place, " and from one people to ano- ther kingdom j" himself the bishop, secretary, judge, governor of his people, the main spring of such a vast, and complicated machine, is a phenomenon, that will van- ish from our earthly horizon, when he ceases to exist. His opinions, it is said, do not injure his cheerfulness. Time has planted few wrinkles on his forehead, though it has covered his head with snow. Notwithstanding the religious zeal, which works wonders in his favor, and the deference, naturally paid to the first founder of a sect, particularly when possess* 56 : o A. vo: uccesscr. No successor can have so undisputed a sovereignty, or possess so un- molested ■ throne. They wilt separate from the church ; and the separation will be fatal. It will be the loss of union, consequence and power. The republic v ill pro- bably be divided in its councils, and have Ices dispatch and energy in the execution. LETTER xxxrr. THE Baptists or Anabaptists are species of the in- dependent dissenters, who diiTcr from their brethren, chiefly in their mode of administering baptism^ which they conceive, should always be by immersion.* There were many of this persuasion amongst the reformed a- broad. In Holland, Germany and the North, they were called Anabaptists, or Monnonites ; in Piedmont and the South, they were found amongst the Albigen- ses. In England, they are few, and at present, little mentioned. The Quakers arose about the middle of the seven- teenth century, j' and had their names affixed upon them in derision from the violent emotions, with which tkey affected to be agitated, when they conceived themselves under the more immediate impulse of the spirit. They explain the whole letter of scripture into a kind of in- ward and spiritual allusion. 1 hey never speak, preach, or exhort in public, but when they fancy themselves to be moved by the spirit ; they set aside the necessity of the external sacraments, baptism and the Lord's supper, * They likewise reject the baptism of infants. f Geerge Fox seems to have been their founder a- bout the year 1G49. LETTERS TO A YoUNG LA Dr. 5T and would certainly be right, if men had no matter in their composition, and the imagination was not to be awakened through the medium of the senses. They acknowledge no head, but Christ, no master but God ; refuse to pay tithes, and think the common civilities of life profane and unchristian. They even appear covered in the presence of their sovereign, and address him with the familiar appellation of 'Thou. — They are a religious community within themselves, and the government is wholly internal. You may see their principles ably delineated by their ingenious apologist, Barclay. There are, however, many excellent traits in the character of the quakers. They are, on the whole, a peaceable, inoffensive people ; support their own poor ; have manifested, for a long time, from a spirit of hu- manity, a strong and pointed opposition to the very in- famous practice of the slave trade ; they never disturb the peace of the church, or shackle the wheels of gov- ernment, and are tolerated in all their innocent pecul- iarities by a liberal and enlightened kingdom. LETTER XXXIII. THE Moravians, or the brethren are a species of protestants, who, in the fifteenth century, threw off the despotic yoke of Rome, animated by the zealous exhor- tations and heroic example of John Huss.f Zinzen- dorff was a very eminent leader of this. sect;'{and, for his signal services amongst them, has been distinguished by the name of Papaf or spiritual father ; and a Mon- * John Huss and Jemm of Prague, suffered martyr- dom at Prague in the year 14M-. f This was rather an appellation, which very naturally was used in the familiar circle of his family. In the writings published by the United Brethren, hey gener- ally style him, the Ordinary of the Brethren. 58 LETTERS TO A 10UNG LADY. sieur la Trobe, lived id the rar;:; polls, and made con- tinual circuits amongst them, has, more lately, acquired great celebrity in their amials. They have more than once passed through the fiery ordeal of persecution. Their religious principles, how- ever, are sound and orthodox. At a period, v. great clamors were raised against them, Potter the thea learned Archbishop of Canterbury, pronounced them a protestant episcopal community, as they retained no doctrines that were repugnant to the articles of the church of England j and the pious bishop of Sodor and Man (Wilson) was created an honorary president ot (what is called) the reformed Tropus, in Umtrusjra* trwriy (the unity of the brethren.) Their discipline and mode of government are very lingular. They form within themselves a. religious community, independent of every other, and extend to all their brethren throughout the world. They are not Bufferred to intermarry with people, of a different per- suasion ; they have groups of religous houses, scatter- ed through the kingdom ; they have choirs of single sisters and brethren ; the first are occupied in every kind of ingenious needlework, in which they have made an amazing proficiency, and the latter in all sorts of me- chanical employments ; and their earnings, after a main- tenance for themselves, which they receive in the ho: go into one common fund for the support of the general society,* and particularly of the children, belonging to the married brethren and sisters, which are t\(] y educa- ted and clothed in the?e religious seminaries. The morals and chastity of their women, are guard- ed with a verv peculiar vigilance ; they are not permit- ted to step without the wails of their asylum, unaccom- * There is no such general fund among the United Brethren. Each member of their Community gives, without constraint what he pleases for supporting any of their institutions, or their Missions among the Hea- then. LET r E R S TO A YOLW G T. A DY. 59 panied by a supcrinttndant of their own sex;* when any of them, or the brethren is married, it is transacted by the casting of lots, and supposed to he ordained by a particular providence, and the union is generally form- ed with some members of their society abroad.f They much resemble the methodists, in having private con- ferences, classes, leaders, and examinations concerning the state and progress of grace in the soul, and none are permitted to recti ve the sacrament, without having previ- ously passed through a very severe process of religious examination. Their worship consists principally in singing, and hence, perhaps, their societies are called choirs. Their residences have much the air of religious houses ; and their single brethren and sisters arc often in the morti- fied state of involuntary ftiars or nuns. Their devo- tions, like those of a convent, are almost perpetual ;J and they seemed to have forgotten, that they were born for society, as well as for themselves. || * The authoi's assertion is to be understood only of the growing youth of the sex, who are not of age. f Nof generally, but sometimes it has been the case as with other inhabitants of these kingdoms. \ Their stated social devotions are limited to morn- ing and evening prayers, and a weekly exhortation by the Minister. || They carry on trade and manufactures like other useful citizens ; and though they never urge any mem- ber of the different denominations in Christendom to become members of their Church, being averse to pro- selyte-making ; yet, from a full conviction that they were not born for themselves only they have made un- common exertions for the Conversion of the Heathen ; for example ; of the Greenlanders, Eskimos North A- merican Indiar.s, of the Negroes in the West Indian islands, of the Negroes, Indians and free Negroes tn Surinam, likewise of the natives of the East Indie3 and 69 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY1 Such restraints on nature are not tolerable, and na- ture will, sometimes, assert her rights, and stain their history with indiscretions. We were sent here to be tried. Innocence, that subsists only by the absence of temptation, scarcely deserves the name ; perpetual de- votion is an impossibility : it is as impracticable, as that the eye should be ever looking at the same object ; and, if I do not much mistake, that piety is most ardent, whkh knows most of the world, from dear bought expe- rience, and finding a scene of mortification and vanity, appeals to heaven for. more substantial satisfaction. There are many scattered societies of Moravians in England, but they appear to be a declining sect. It is immured ignorance or prejudice, which has led Chris- tians to separate, from each other for little frivolous dis- tinctions. The era, I hope, is coming, which will bring us " more into one common fold, under one shepherd, Christ Jesus, the Righteous." There is certainly a great mixture of good in this people. What a pity, that they cannot join with us in offering a rational service, and lifting up one common hallelujah, to the great God and Father of all. LETTER XXXIV. I KNOW not why the mystics are so called, unless it be for discovering mystical passages in the scripture, or making religion at large wear the the appearance of mystery. They are a very ancient sect, and sprung up rlyj as about the close of the third century. This people, by a very singular kind of ingenuity, discover a spiritual or hidden sense in the most literal passages of scripture, and indeed convert the whole, rather into an amusing allegory, than a plain and simple narrative of facts. Thev hold all divine truth to come, bv an immediate influx, from the spiritual world, and pretend to a knowl- of the Calmucks in Asiatic Russia. See Cran's Historv of the Brethren and History of Greenland. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. edge of God, and heavenly things, that can only be at- tained in this extraordinary manner. Sometimes they are called quietists, because they maintain, that the soul should be in a stilt, quiet, passive state, undistracted with noise and cares, and almost superior to sense or matter, in order to receive this divine illumination. Their station, in the thermometer of different religious orders, is that of lighter elements, carried by superior subtilty into the air, whilst others, composed of grosser matter, adhere, by an invincible necessity, to the earth, till death dissolves the union betwixt soul and body. The mystic theology seems to be the philosophy of Plato, refined and grafted upon a Christian flock ; the quixotism of religion, which affects to attain in life, what the scriptures have taught us to expect only after death; an intimate knowledge of the Almighty, visions, revela- tions, almost intuition ! If the mystics would reason for a moment, (but peo- ple, under the guidance of immediate illumination are above the vulgar shackles of reason,) they would see that such a subtile, metaphysical system, is poorly fitted for the reception of mankind at large, who can scarcely be brought to understand, relish; or practice the most obvious truths ; they would acknowledge that divinity to be the best, which does not, with the lightness of some matter, ascend into the air, but contents itself on earth, with inculcating and enforcing the most' obvious duties of common life ; the reciprocal obligations of parents and children, masters and servants, kings and subjects ; the subjection of the passions, the discipline of reason, and the duty of all to one common God. They would know that their opinions must create an indiffer- ence, or a fancied superiority to those established ordi- nances, which are the very basis of all religion, and that \i all men were governed by their passive quietude there would be none to encounter with the vices and disor- ders of a mixed, heterogeneous state. Christians would " cease to be' the light of the world, or the salt of the earth ;" there would be none to stem, bv power- F 62 LETTERS T9 A YOUNG LADY. fill, turbid eloquence the ragings of iniquity, or let u the lustre of their example shine before men." Our Lord's piety was not of this kind. Jt sought not the indulgence of recluse contemplation. It was not passive, but active ; every where, with the sinner and the saint, to reprove the one and encourage the other ; in the wilderness to pray, and in the world, to reform ; at a marriage " to rejoice with them that did rejoice, and at the grave of Lazarus, to weep" with his afflicted friends. LETTER XXXV. THE mystic theology boasts some great names. Madame de Guion was a wann espouser of it in France ; a woman of great fashion and consequence, remarkable for the goodness of her heart, and the regularity of her conduct, but of a capricious unsettled temper, and lia- ble to the seductions of a warm imagination. The opinions of this lady made a great noise in that country, about the year 1687. They were confuted, some time afterwards, by the celebrated Bossuet. The great and good Fenelbn undertook her vindication ; but his book was condemned by Pope Innocent the twelfth. The teutonic philosopher (Jacob Behmen,) was a kind cf father to this sect, and published a book, which con- tains a system of the most absurd and incoherent rever- ies, that ever gained an admission into the world. It is a species of moral chemistry, and occult philosophy, a. bewildering explanation, and a cloudy li^ht, which I will venture to say, that neither Sir Isaac Newton, nor Mr. Locke, with all their clearness of conception, could have been able to understand. Law, who wrote his Serious Call, (a nonjuror of Northamptonshire,) was an abettor to these doctrines ; a man of very exemplary life, and discriminating tal- ents ; but it was an honor, reserved for the late Baron ^vedenborg to carry them to their very height of per- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 63 fection.* Compared with his, all other writings, on the subject, are but the morning contrasted with the perfect day. He tells us confidently of his unrestrained com- munications with the spiritual world, visions, revela- tions ; he gives to every portion of scripture, a natural, a spiritual, and a celestial sense ; he describes to us the very form, and furniture, and apparatus of heaven ; he retains to the reader his conversations with angels ; he describes the condition of Jews, Mahometans, Chris- tians, of the English, French, Dutch, of clergymen of every denomination, laity, Sec. in another world ; he has a key to unlock all the hitherto impenetrable secrets of futurity, and already whilst in the body, " knows even as he is known." What is the inference ? When imagination is permit- ted to usurp the place of reason, fanaticism becomes a christian duty, and enthusiasm the more credible, in. proportion as it exceeds all bouads of credibility. What can induce men of sense to hearken to these dreams ! Early prejudices, confined reading, singular acquaintance, a recluse life, a gloomy, speculative, ab- stracted turn of mind, and associating together, lor a long time, particular, however, incongruous, idea3. This will account for any reveries. It accounts for insanity. And men, from this cause, may, in a partic- ular instance (suppose religion,) be insane, though in all other respects their minds are ever so enlightened, or ever so expansive. It must however, be said in favor of the mystics, that their principles inculcate in the strongest manner, the necessity of spiritual holiness and regeneration ; that their lives in general, are unblemished and exemplary. They are a quiet retired people, who let the world go as it will, as to riches ©r promotions ; who enjoy in- * Those who embrace the tenets of Baron Sweden - borg, have very lately begun to form themselves into a separate connexion, under the name of the New Jem- salem Church. 64 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. deed, in a passive superiority, those tumults of the crowd, as higher spirits may condescend to look down, with a pitying smile, on the toils of mortals ; and who deny themselves all the gayer pleasures, in order to rel- ish, in a sublimer degree, all the raptures of devotion. If the opinions of the quietest spring from spiritual , it is more than they suspect ; for they preach up die deepest self-abasement, annihilation, and poverty of &| irk ; they almost starve the animal part of their na- ture, to nurse the angelic, and half live on meditation. If such people have errors, they should be touched with a gentle hand. . If they are misled, it is in amiable company. There is not a much more lovely name than that of Feneloo. Few men have possessed such a sweet- ness of piety. I have ^ut one wish for them, myself*, or any other sect, and it is a wish of charity ; that what is wrong in any of us, may be done away, because I long to meet them all in the kingdom of heaven. . LF.TTER XXXVI. THEOLOGY, like arts and sciences, has its scho- lastic, technical terms, and I will endeavor to explain them. The Arians are so called from Arias, a presbyter of the church of Alexandria, in the year 315. He believ- ed Christ to be God, but conceived him inferior to the Father, as to his deity and essence. The term, at pre- sent, is indiscriminately applied to all, who in any de- gree, embrace this opinion. This heresy was first revived bv Mr. Winston, in the beginning of the eighteenth century. The works of Dr. Clarke afterwards entailed upon him the name Semi Arian (Half-Arian.) Socinians derive their name from the illustrious fam- ily of Sozzini, which flwuvished, along time, at Sienna in Tuscany, and produced several great, and eminent men. Faustus Socinus, the great author of this sect, was born BETTERS to a young LADY DO at Sienna in 1539, denied the divinity of Christ, the personality of the Holy Gho3t, and the perpetuity of baptism, as a divine prdinanre. The most distinguished men, who have favored this opinion, are Le Clerc, Biddle, Lurdaer, Lo.vmai:, Fleming, Lindsey, &c. LETTER XXXVII. TttE Deists are so called, perhaps, from the Latin word, Den?) a God ; because they acknowledge q the existence of a God, profess no particular form or system of religion, and only follow the law and ligjtt bi nature. Of these, however, there are many from the moderate ones, who believe revelatkta, in a certain, qualified sense, to those, who absolutely disa- vow it in all. The first who figured or wro-.e, in this country, was Baron Herbert of Cherbury. Deism is generally embraced, either by men of a cold, phlegmatic, philosophical cast, who are indisposed to believe any thing, for which they have not absolute de- monstration, or by those, who, having never thought or reasoned, consider it,*as a mark of wit and talents, to set up for unbelievers. The first deserves an answer, and it is easy. All nature is full of mysteries, as well as revelation ; the union of the soul and .body is a miracle ; the infinite di- visibility of matter, and the idea of an eternal duration are absolutely incomprehensible ; nothing can be \ so, than the necessary self-exhter.ee of God. The lat- ter are better answered with irony. Their infidelity is a fashionable livery. When deism is not in vogue a- mong the gay circles, they will soon put it off, and dis- avow their having worn so obsolete a garb. A third class of deists may be said to spring up from the superstitions of Rome. Great men, who Uve i' catholic countries, are disgusted with their bigotry, are apt to think religion in general only an tmpoiition o:, the credulity of mankind. Was not this vvi F 2 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. all that splendid group, Rousseau, Voltaire, the Abbe de Raynal, and Helvetius who wrote a famous treatise, de V Esprit P Genius hates shackles, and shackles are the peculiar manufacture of Rome. A fourth class of deists are continually produced by :he love of fame, venting itself in paradoxes, and sin- gular opinions, to make a noise ; by an aversion to the strictness of gospel morality, and by criminal passions, which endeavor to hide their guilt in the shades of un- belief. Some of these have commenced authors, and endeavored to immortalize their errors by the press. 15ut their books, on a near view, have been found only gilt and lettered with vanity, and have quickly been con- signed to the oblivion they deserved. Whilst we are in this world, enemies will mix these tares with the good seed of the gospel. We must wait till harvest, to see the final separation. The deists are the greatest enemies, of all others, to true religion. Their pride and scepticism stop up every avenue, by which divine grace and conviction should be conveyed to the soul. Nature, with them, is onlv a ne- itessary system of causes and effects. Creation rose in- to its present splendor, by a kind of fatality. Thun- ders roar, lightnings flash, volcanos vomit, tempests rage, seas overflow, millions perish, and kingdoms are '\30Ialed, only by a train of stated, inevitable causes, exclude a first efficient mover, and think not of rovidence, which, at a certain moment, and for the wisest, moral causes, predestined s-ach events. Few of these men have diedin peace. Their forti- tude has deserted them, when tney wanted its support. Their philosophy has vanished, as their strength has abated. The blast of death run demolished their splen- did fabric, and their hopes and peace have perishtd in the ruins.* * Atheist is the name, and Atheism the doctrine, of such a person, who entirely denies the existence of God- Whether anv man ever did in his heart believe this ab- IiETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 67 LETTER XXXVIIL MY DEAR GIRL, TRAVELLERS, that have made (whit is called) the grand tour, felicitate themselves on their return to England, and pronounce it the happiest country in the world. And such it certainly is, if not in beauty and deliciousness of climate, yet in that absolute security of property it enjoys above all other nations, and that lib- erty ^ which endears every possession. If yovi have made proper observations on the differ- ent, religious sects, that have passed in review before us, you will feel much the same sentiment, when you compare them with your own church. You will be the moral traveller, returned from more unpleasant scenes, to taste the blessings of true repose and dignity at home. Nor is this idea, I hope, the effect of prejudice, but springs from solid reason and conviction. The Church of England * has enough of ceremony and external decencv to strike the senses, and to sup- port the dignity of religion, in the eves of the vulgar, and vet nothing that can justly offend the delicacy of the sublimest understanding. It aims not' at the total ab- straction of dissenters, nor affects the superstitious forms and ceremonies of the Church of Rome. Its piety has a rational, sedate, composed air, and is uni- surd notion, is doubtful. But whoever pretends to it, mav read his character in Psalm xiv. 5, 1. * The fool hajth said in his heart, There is no God.. "* The Church of England, together with the estab- lished Church of Ireland, forms only one of the three leading divisions of the Protestants. Lutheranism is the established religion in Sweden, Denmark, Norway, Livonia, and a considerable part of Germany ; and Culvanism or Presbyterianism is the established relig- ion in Scotland, Holland, and in several parts of Ger- SOany and Swisserland. o3 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. fcrmly grave * n d decent, without pretending to the flights, the fervors, and the visions of some, modern fa- natic. The sacraments are not ridiculously multiplied, nor has human policy invented them. They are but two in number, baptism and the Lord's supper ; both possi- lively enjoined by Christ, and neither of them supposed to have anv further merit, than as they lead to purity of heart and conduct. The liturgy has beeu admired by the greatest men ; the ministers of this church atje, in general, an ornament to their sacred profession, and perhaps, on the whole, men oT as great learning, can- dor, piety and moderation, as are to he found under any communion. That there were no exceptions, would be a }?:irai'!c* There was a JucLts amongst twelve a- postles. After all the fine-spun theories of liberty, every soci- ety must have a mode of government ; and that gov- ernment supposes power to be lodged some where for the general good. That of the Church of England is vested in bishops ; no one will dispute the antiquity, or perhaps the usefulness of the order, whatever he may object to its temporal distinctions. St. Paul appointed bishops in the primitive church. Much abuse is often le\elled against the sacred bench. But the shafts come from envy, and are point- ed by religious prejudice and resentment. It is, in fact, their temporal emoluments, -that provoke this ungener- ous kind of persecution. But if they must attend par* liament, they have indeed no super- abundant provision. Whilst it is thought expedient to have a national churjh, the interest^ of it, as connected with the state, mustfre- quentlv be the subject of padiamentarv discussion ; and it would be very extraordinary- indeed, if they, who are most immediately concerned, should not have the liber- ty of giving their - opinion and votes on the occasion, Whatever equal tight, from education or abilities, the bishops may possess, along with thi temporal peers of the realm, to deliver their sentiments oo any. other sub- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 69 ject, they exercise it very rarely, and with great discre- tion. Their honors too, it should be observed, usually come late in life, and the h->pe of attaining them, at some distant period, is doubtless, amongst the younger clergy, a strong incentive to emulation. Hut prejudice apart, the bi-hops, in general, perform their sacred duties with great decorum, and the prsent bench can boast the names of several who, without the aid of purple, would be an ornament to human nature. To suppose the Church of England without defects would be supposing it not a human establishment. But innovation in religious system is a dangerous experi- ment. Projects of a reformation in our liturgv and ar- ticles have come from very suspicions quarters, and worn no very promising app arance. The little errors oF this church art? letter trusted to the enlightened pru- dence and moderation of its governors, lhar. the rash and daring spirit of adventurers, who, under the pre- tence of only attempting to remove its rubbish, might artfully undermine the very foundation, on which it rests. They who have talked most loudly on the subject of an alteration, have certainly displayed no very great at- tachment to the essentials of out holy faith. VVe. might perhaps, borrow from sectaries, without any inconvenience, a little more zeal, fervour and ani- mation. If our .internal discipline, like theirs, was more rigidly enforced ; and if, like them, we had a few more conferences with our people, and an opportunity of keeping the unworthy from the altar, we should be so much nearer the model of perfection. But alas ! the great evil amongst us, is a want of en- couragement. The Church, at any rate, has but a small pittance. A learned prelate* has observed, that if all its dignities, (bishoprics included) were annulled, and their produce thrown into one common equalling fund, for the general support, the amount of annual sahry to every individual, would not exceed 120/. or at msst 150/. * TheB— pcfL-d-ff. 70 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, Under such circumstances, who can he very anima- ted? On what energy can attend the exercise of our pro- fession in the eyes of a world, that superciliously appre- ciates the characters of men infinitely more by their temporal possessions, than by the graces of their heart, or the sublimity of their understanding. To a person of any refinement or sensibility, houses without conven- iences, and children without provision, are but a mel- ancholy portion ! If merchants or lawyers had no bet- ter prospects, what would be their exertions ? And yet under all this heavy load of embarrassment, what great and good men do our annals boast ? Fanatics } indeed, alledge that pastors should be supe- rior to all hopes of reward, except in heaven. Plato has likewise said that we should be raised above the sense of pain. But neither those yi-icilCirics nor tnis fhibe '|?h«? r h*YC been able to change the nature of things ; to take from nerves, their sensibility ; from the world, its insolence, from education, its delicacy, o* from poverty, its stings. And we have learned from a higher authority, than 4 either of theirs, that a the christian labourer is worthy of his hire, and that he who serves at the altar, should live of the altar." LETTER XXXIX. Books and rules of all kinds are the theory of religion, and can have no further use, than as they lead to prac- tice. We have then profited by systems and opinions, when our life is a con inu^l comment on what we have read, and we make the light of our example shine be- fore men. Christianity has but two capital features ; love to God, evinced in acts of piety ; and good will towards man, exemplified in all the possibilities of doing good. As devotion, however necessary, can bring no profit to GLir Maker, any more than a little taper can add to the splendors of the sun, the scriptures have laid the great- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 7^ est stress on chanty to our felloxv creatures. This is called the " end of the commandment :" It is the em- bodying of our piety; and the world could not subsist without it. Human Lifejis full of woe. Charity is the an- gel, that binds up the sor^ s of our fellow creatures, heals the broken in heart, clodiea the naked and feeds the hungry. The poor are made the representatives of Christ; whatever we give to them is, in scripture lan- guage, bestowed on the Saviour. Morth and rust cor- rupt the treasures we hoard up, but this is placed in those funds of heaven, which never fail. The Saviour has said, that w it is more blessed to give than to receive. " And the pleasures, which spring from charity, prove its origin to be divine. What val- ue has a heap of money, or what conscious dignity do we derive from it, if it is not employed in giving comfort to the miserable, and protection to the distressed? The very poor are provided for by the laws of the kingdom. And common beggars are far from being the most deserving objects. Charity should rather seek out the modest and uncomplaining who have seen bet- ter days, and have all the pains of a delicate sensibility, annexed to their distress. True charity does not so much consist in multiply- ing little alms to a number of poor people, as in making some grand and well directed efforts in favour of a few. Educating one child of an over-burthened family is a greater act of beneficence, than retailing to them occa- sionally a thousand petty benefactions. It is not a few scattered drops of rain, but it is a generous shower, coming all at once, which revives the pearched earth, and quickens vegetation. It is amazing what charities even a small fortune will enable people to perform, if under the influence of a christian economy. A few retrenchments from dress* vanity or pleasure, poured into the christian stock, will make it rich indeed. I do not know a better practice, than that of the pri- mitive christians— laying by on the first day of the week, 72 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. a little pittance for this purpose. These drops will not be missed from the general reservior, and yet, collect- ively, will rain a shower of blessings on many indigent and distressed. LETTER XL. YOLTNG Indies have many methods of charity be- sides the mere act of giving money. That time, which sometimes hangs heavy on their hands, might be useful- ly employed in making garments for the naked, or providing cordials for the sick. Such an active be- nevolence would likewise be an excellent recipe for their health and spirits ; it would dignify their char- acter, and, when the last moment came, gratitude would " shew the garments, which a Dorcas had made," and the good name " they had acquired, would be infinitely richer, and more precious than ointment." If I wished a woman to be universally charming, I would recommend this expedient. Compassion is the highest excellence of your sex, and charity is the sacred root from which it springs. The soft bosom of a wo- man, throbbing with sympathy, or her eye glistening with chrystal drops of pity, are some of the finest touch- es in nature's pencil. The whole train of accomplish- ments, the whole group of graces do not exalt her half so much in the estimation of the worthy, the amiable and the discerning. Alas ! when death comes what will be all the accomplishments and graces ? But chari- ty shall never fail ; its pleasures then are gaining their meridian of perfection. Remember what the scrip- tures has said, " alms giving dt live Beth from death, and will not suflei us to come into darkness." The young lady vou have so frequently heard me mention, as stand- ing high in my esteem, is very eminently distinguished by this grace. Nature has been sufm-iently kind {o her person ; but it is not her sweet complexion, it is not her flowing unaitificial ringlets, it is not the softness of her LETTERS T« A T©UN« LA r>V. voice and manner, or the mild lustre of her eyes, rtfi't would have called forth a panegyric from my pfeir, or touched a breast, that is considerably petrified with phi- losophy and reflection. It is a conviction tint she lives in the constant exercise of piety ; trnt her excellencies r.re chiefly those of the mind, and th*t her benevolence is bounded only by creation. When others are at plays or assemblies her ftiif hands are making garments for the naked, or restora- tives for the sick. The ingenuity, which some of her sister females employ to adorn themselves, is consecra- ted by her to the service of the poor. This is laying up in store againstfthe day of nece sity, This is weaving for her a chaplet of laurels, that shai; he green in age. Her countenance shall smile oven in dissolution. A beauteous ruin, even in death She shall have power to charm :" and the gratitude of some ad- miring bard shall collect her scattered merits into au urn that shall long secure the precious relicts from the ravages of time. But I will not add another touch to the portrait, for fear of discovering the excellent original. I should wound that soft and delicate timidity, which is, in mv idea, the euamel of her graces. Her true merit wishes to be unknown. It is satisfied with its own, and the approbation of its God. LETTER XLL ALMS, however, to the body, which must very soon perish, are but, if I may say so, the threshold of charity. The true sublime of it is compassion to the soul ; be- cause that is immortal, and can never die. Every effort to save this, is exalted in its nature, and the nearest approach we can make, in these houses of clay; to the ministry of angels, to the attributes of Jeho- vah, and to the unbounded compassion of him, who di- ed for the sins of all. A few, timely advices, instructions or reproofs to G 7* LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. / those, over whom our fortune or station giv« us any in- fluence, may have more lasting and brneficial consequen- ces, than all the food or raiment, or money we can pos- sibly bestow ; at least when we give our temporal things, rht y should be pei fumed wiih spiritual, u * ith words thus tf poker) in due season." I he institution of Sunday Stheols promises the hap- piest consequences to the poor, and die community at large. Jt has, in-teed, already produced a surprising reformation. The present age beholds the dawn of h Blessed morning, which in another, may brighten into a more perfect day. If it fiils % it will be from carelessness and indolence, ia the parents themselves, or for want of attention from the higher orders of people. Many, who will give their money, are not equally liberal of their exertion — This grand scheme, however, requires an unremitting iaDour and vigilance. It is the watchful eve of .super/- 'ori which alone will produce exemplariness in the teach- ers, or in the scholars, emulation. And I do not know a greater charity within the sphere of a young lady, ban to visit the girls in these useful seminaries ; in or- lep to correct their foibles, encourage their dawning virtues and stimulate them to improvement. Close, uncomfortable rooms, it is true, in cellars or gamt*\ poisoned with unpleasant smells, and but filled with poor children, are no very inviting objects to those, who live in houses, " ceiled with cedar, and painted with vermilion." Hut the merit of the action is, doubtless, in proportion to its unpleasantness ; and it is done for him, who on our account, refused neither hardship nor distress. These poor children he has vouchsafed to call "his iambs," and it is a most christian effort to "feed them." Such advice will doubtless, sound very strange in the ears of some young ladies, who ihre " scarcely set their feet upon the ground for delicateness and tenderness/' But this, alas! is a false and overacted refinement.-— They were not born merely to vegetate like tulips, for LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 75 ostentation. The world, their friends, (he poo:-, reli- gion, havb- claims upon them. All nature, sun, moon, stars, tides, preach up thi? necessity of continual action, and I will venture to say, that this kind of exertion would be recompensed with su.h a secret pleasure, a«i they never found in the gayest circles of fashion, or the most crowded haunts of dissipation. Another excellent mode of chuiiiv, is dispersing lit- tle, religions tracts among your poor neighbours. These, with the blessing- of God, may have a wonderful effect, and indeed be doing most extensive good, when you are no more. Every family of servants, should have a small christian library; the benefits, I doubt not, would soon be felt in their orderly deportment. The Society for promoting christian knowledge a* bounds with a variety of little, plain, useful treatises, that are suited to all occasions. You may easily pro- cure a catalogue of the whole, and select such as are most adapted to the state of your particular dependants. On the whole, my dear girl, that time which tarnish- eth the glory of all human things, will quickly lay both you and me in the dust of the earth. Let us endeavour to extend this little span by amiable actions, smd> if passible, render oar memories immortal* LETTER XLII. MY DEAR IUCY, THE very first thing I should recommend after relw gious duties, as absolutely essential to your private com- fort, is s? If government in the fullest of the word. This may be supposed to be included under the article of re- ligion. And so in fact it is. But there are many well disposed persons, that seem to think Httle things of this kind almost beneath their notice, though in reality they are interwoven with the repose of every day, and al- most every moment. 16 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAD* The discipline of the imagination is the first thing to he attempted. This, in young people, is naturally warm ; and if they are not cautious, will be apt to mis- lead them into very dangerous errors. Thus whatever captivates their fancy, they take with- out examination, to be all over excellence. Tinsel, be- cause it glitters more, will be preferred to solid gold ; a luxuriant, florid style in a writer, to the soundest and best arranged arguments; the shewy and brilliant in characters, to the truly valuable, and the gaudy in dress, to that artless simplicity, which is the offspring of an el- egant and well cultivated taste. Young people almost universally, subject themf elves to this kind of illusion. They enter upon life, as an in- chanted country. The world, in their idea, has no ca- price ; fortune, no vicissitude ; friendship is without in- sincerity ; attachment without bitters, and marriage is •11 happiness without alloy. What the scripture has called a wilderness, they make a paradise, wnese land- scapes are deliciously picturesque, and whose spring is ever green. Experience, be assured, will not realize such high ex- pectations. You will find, that every object has its im- perfections; that the world at best is but a mixture of good and ill, 2nd that the lights of the picture will be inteispe^Sd with shades. YoeftwSll ask, where is the great harm of indulging, for a little while, these high colourings of fancy ? The inconvenience is obvious. It will expose you to perpet- ual disappointments, and disappointments v>ill create disgust. By such a false sublimation, you will have no relish for the rational pleasures, and no resolution to per- form the solid duties of your condition. At any rate, you will want a proper share of fortitude and patience to encounter the. many unavoidable ill* and calamities of life. ^LTTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. LETTER XLIII, THE next, most important thing, is the government of your temper. I know many persons, that would not, for the world, be absent from the sacrament, or refuse to do a generous action, yet indulge themselves, seem- ingly without remorse, in such little instances of* ill-na- ture, peevishness, tyranny, and caprice towards their servants and inferiors, as render their houses a perpetu- al scene of discord, and hiiog, on every countenance, at: uncomfortable gloom. Such people should consider, that religion was in- tended to regulate the most ordinary actions of ear lives ; that prayers, sacraments, and opportunities of doing grcw/good, come, comparatively, but seldom ; but that it is, every moment, in our power to diffuse happi- ness amongst our domestics, and that this, if it pro- ceeds from proper motives, will be an acceptable service to the God, who has appointed all the different ranks in society, and is the father of all compassion. N<~>r have we much imbibed the true spirit of the gospel, if it has not taught us to bear patiently the imperfections of our fellow-creatures,, and to temper authority with gentle- ness and good nature. No consequence can justify one single act of 'caprice., sullenness or ill-humor. It is a direct violation of that universal law of charity, which requires us, in all our actions, to keep in view, the happiness of others, as well as our own. Tyranny is. a downright insult to any creature form- ed in the image of God ; it would be unpardonable, if exercised even to a worm or insect, and generally pro- ceeds from causes, which reflect no honor on the heart or understanding. It is often the result of a nexv-born greatness, that has not yet learned hew to bear superior- ity ; of a spleen, collected from want of employment, or a natural, ill-temper, that never has submitted to th? discipline of virtue. G. 2. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAW. Mildness is necessary to our own comfort. They, who are continually tormenting others, must be wretch- ed themselves. It is essential to the ditrnity of our own character ; and it is, I am sure, the highest policy, whether we mean to secure the affections, or the good services of o ir dependants. It is a pitiful condescension in a woman of fortune to aggravate every little cause of complaint. A raffled, angry, scolding woman Is so far vulgar and disgusting, and for the moment, a sort of virago. Moderation is the great secret of government. To be always dissatisfied is the way to lose all authority and respect. The consequence of those people is most cheerfully acknowledged, who seem the least forward to assert it. And what says the law of all wisdom and of all per- fection ? a Masters, give unto your servants, that which is just and equal, knowing that ye also have a master in heaven. Put on, as'the elect of God, bowel* of mercies, kindness, humbleness of mind, long suffering, forbearing one another, and forgiving one another. Learn of me, for I am meek and lowly in heart. Be pitiful, be cour- teous." If the gospel was published " to bring peace on earth, and good- will towards men," thi3 kind afFection should begin with families, which, collectively, compose all the rations of the world. LETTER XLIV. THE ptety, I have recommended, will make you al- ways happy la yourself, an 1 respected by all the wor- anJ dVicernin^, though you should happen to have ;io:ie of thoie intell -dual endowments, which procure a greater share of fame and admiration. I5ut you may be sensible as well as bioii* ; you may b* entertaining as well ai £«?:/. Y)ir reavja and understanding were given you to be improved ; a proper pursuit of knowl- edge, at the sam? tiifl?, will ail vv] iofrtnv:your$e?fy, LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 79 and render you much more valuable and interesting to all your acquaintance. When the foundation is laid in virtue, the superstructure may have every graceful em- bellishment. Knowledge will recommend you to miny, over whom mere piety would have no power. It will give a greater energy to your goodness. The picture will be thus el- egantly framed, and placed in the best point of view. Learned women, however, hnve been often a proverb of reproach, feared by their own sex, and disliked by ours. A neglect of their person, and of familv concerns, as of little things beneath a superior understanding ; a vain ostentation of their abilities in company, and upon all occasions, a supercilious contempt of their sister wo- men in general, and an ungraceful avidity for the com- pany of men, have been reckoned amongst their distin- guished characteristics. The truth is, some females have been viragos in their knowledge, not only injudicious in the kind they have- aspired to, but the use they have made of it, and an itu. discriminate stigma has been fixed upon all, who have endeavored rationally to improve their understandings. On the other hand, it is. said of women, that thev are so ignorant, frivolous and insipid, as to be unfit for friendship, society or coversati >n ; that they are unable to amuse, entertain or edify a lonely hour, much more to bless or grace that connexion, for which they were principally formed. What, my dear girl, can a judicious woman do, in such a dilemma ? Mow must she act to avoid the impu- tation of pedantry on the one hand, and ignorance on the other. There is a narrow, middle path betwixt these ex- tremes. ^Judgment must point it out, and good sense direct you in the execution. The prominent excellencies of your minds are taste and imagination, and your knowledge should be of a kind, whkh assimilates with these faculties. Politic^ philosophy> mathematics, or metaphysics are not ijour CTfikS TO A YOUNG LAI>V. province. Machiavel, Newton, Euclid, Malehranche or Lo_ke would lie with a very ill grace in your closets. They wouid render you wixvc manly indeed. They would damp that vivacity and destroy that disengaged and softness, which are the very essence or you;- graces. The elegant studies are, more immediately, your de- partment. They do not require so much time, abstrac- tion or comprehensiveness of mind ; they bring no wrinkles, and they will give a polish to your man,'. and such a liberal expansion to your understanding, as every rational creature .should endeavor to attain. Whilst men, with solid judgment and a superior vig- our are to combine ideas, to discriminate, and examine a subject to the bottom, you are to give it all its bril- liancy and all its charms. They provide the furniture ; you dispose it with propriety. They build the house j ucu are to fancy, and to ornament the ceiling. Cultivate, then, such studies, as lie within the region of sentiment and taste. Let your knowledge bcfiini- rune, as well as your person. And let it glow xvithin you, rather than sparkle upon others about you. A dia- mond, so polished, will always be valued. You will charm all, but the ignorant and vulgar. You will be a rational, entertaining companion, and the symmetry of your features will derive a double lustre from the beau- lies of your mind, LETTER XLV. ENDEAVOR to acquire a taste for the beauties of fine writing, as it is displayed in our present, numerous ii-,t of English classics, the Spectators, Tatlers, the Guardian, the Kambler, the Adventurer, the World, &c. I have placed Addison at the head, of this cata- logue, because he, more frequently than any of the rest, gives lessons of morality and prudence to your sex, and, ior delicacy of sentiment, is peculiarly adapted to female reading. There is sometimes perhaps, a languor in hk LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, $1 papers. He may not have all that fire and energy and pathos, which hare since characterised some celebrated writers ; but lor ease, gracefulness, simplicity and na- ture, he is absolutely without a rival, and, perhaps, ever will be without a superior. A critic* of modern times has said, that whoever would write the English language with ease should spend his days and nights in reading the works of Addison. To this frequent perusal of the best writers, add, if possible, an acquaintance with some living characters of improved education. Conversation with people of genius and sentiment is the easiest and quickest way to improvement. It gives us all its graces, without its austerities ; its depth, without its wrinkles. We soon grow languid and gloomy with abstracted studies, weary of ourselves, and- sated with our pursuits. Conversa- tion gently agitates the sedentary frame, and gives a brisker motion to the blood' and spirits. The counte? nance is flushed with pleasure ; the eyes sparkle,, the heart expands and glows with emulation, LETTER XLVF. TO write letters well is a very desirable excellence in a woman. Every situation, character, connexion ; devotion, friendship, love, business, all require the ex- ercise of this talent.- It is an office particularly suited to the liveliness of your fancy, and the sensibility of your heart ; and your sex, in general, much exc< Is our own, in the ease and graces of epistolary correspondence. Kot cramped with the shackles and formality of rules, their thoughts arc expressed spontaneously, as they flow, and become, more immediately, (what a letter always should be.) a lively, amusing, written conversation. A man a-ttends to the niceties of grammar, or well turner^ periods ; a woman gives us the effusions of he* soul. The first may please a few, languid critics ; the latter * Dr. Johnson. M LETTtRS VO L YOUKG LADY. will delight every person of sensibility and discern-* inent. I had once the Honor of corresponding with a lady, whose letters astonished me. Imagery, taste, pathos, spirit, tire and ease vied with each other, which should be the most canxjidcuoua feature in the productions of her pen. They came, no; from the head ; it was heart, which wrote them. 1 hey were not faultless, but they were impassioned. They had defects, bat they had likewise beauties, which must have warmed the coldest critic, that ever existed. Thev were interest- ing to an high degree, and left this conviction strongly on my mind, that we often labor only to be dull, and, in the search of distant ornaments, chili the natural fer- vors of the soul. LETTER XLVII. . WITH the History of our own country you cannot decently be unacquainted. Jt would betray an unpar- donable ignorance, il you could not tell, on being asked in company, the general character of all the sovereigns, that have sat upon the British throne; what were the religion, manners, customs, ceremonies of the primitive inhabitants of the island ; by what means the present state of civilization has been gradually introduced ; what contributed to bring about our reformation from the church of Rome ; at what period the outline pf our happy constitution first began to be sketched out, and what is the particular excellence of our government, u- ver all others m the known world. Jf indeed you consider history in its proper light, not as a mere detail of names, facts, epochs, and events, but as a picture of human nature, and of the wonderful administration of Providence, apportioning rewards and punishments to nations, and frequently to individuals, according to their actions, it will become not only an entertaining study, but a source of the sublimest, moral improvement. It will, give you the richest knowledge LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 9Q of men and things ; from what has happened, you may deduce what will, in similar situations ; and you will ]« am to adore the wisdom, justice nnd perfections of him, who, under all the changes of time, falls of em- pire, the conflicts of passion, and the interests of men, is the same M yesterclav, to-day, and forever ;" carry- ing on, amidst all apparent disorder, one grand and comprehensive scheme of happiness and probation. Goldsmith lias agreeably abridged and condensed the English history, in a well known work * of two small rolumes, intitled Letters from a Nobleman to his Son. If your curiosity is excited to pursue this study on a larger scale, Henry will give you every thing that de- lights in genius, language, colouring and discription.* Hume is by no means, an impartial historian, but he is a very splendid, captivating writer. If he is not dis- passionate, he is always inchanting ; and, if he does not uniformly convince, he never fails to charm. It had been happy for this writer, if he had never at- tempted any thing but history. He might then have gone to his grave with unequivocal applause. 13ut in his moral and metaphysical works, he is an enemy to the dearest interests of mankind. He has endeavored to sap the foundations of that religion, which is the only source of every hope and every comfort. His cold and sullen scepticism has done infinite mischief. It more than sullies all the lustre of his literary fame. LETTER XLVIII. ROBERTSON'S History of Charles the fifth, and of Mary Queen of Scotts, will both instruct and enter- thin vou. The historiographer has been esteemed an excellent writer. But I have always, in private, thought • ■* " Dr. Henry's History of Great Britain contains more good matter than any history we yet have." Analytical Review, Number iii. For July, 1TB?, p. '*9T. ^4 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. his style too labored and stately. It has not the ea*e and simplicity of the ancients. It does not equal sev- eral of the moderns. It has neither the concise energy of Hume, nor the more flowing and easy graces of Gib* bon. The late Dr. Stewart, in a very elegant work, has controverted almost all the assertions of his predeces- sor,concerning Mary, and bee ome the champion of this unfortunate queen. But you have nothing to do with literary controversy. Leave thtwn to the tribunal of an impartial public. Time will weigh their separate merits in the balance of truth. Either or both of thtn will exercise your taste, and improve your understanding. Stretcht's Beauties of History* will furnish you with many short, agreeable anecdotes, both ancient and mod- ern, at a verv small expence of time and trcuble. — Knowledge thus epitomized, is what I should recom- mend. On such subjects, you want short and pithy sketches, rather than laboured and prolix dissertations. The history of Greece and Rome is so frequently al- luded to, so connected with that of almost all other na- tions, and so full of curious incidents and anecdotes, that a little knowledge of it would be very useful and entertaining. But, in general, the writers on the sub- ject, are too voluminous for a female. They make Dp no little share of the labour, in a classical education. — Goldsmith has likewise given his assistance to epitom- ize this branch of history. I know no other writer so proper for your purpose. To attain just a glimpse of general history, the most useful work I recollect, is the Abbe Millot's Eh'mentex fur I' 'Histoirt'. On fm comprehensive and condensed plan, there is much in a little compass. By travelling over a few fields, you gain a most immense and extend- ed horizon, and many tracts of hitherto undiscovered country. History at large is so voluminous and com- * A new edition of which has been lately published in two vol timet. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 85 plicated j that, to a young hdy, who shoull understand, as it were, but the outline, it very much wants such a mode of abridgment, and simplification. LF.TTER XLIX. MY D5AR LUCY, ROLLLVs ancient history is a treasure to young people, if the number of volumes docs not alarm you. This man was one of the most excellent preceptors that the worl.l ever saw. It was his ambition to unite the scholar, and the christian. He labours to promote re- ligions improvement, by every incident he relates. He holds forth Providence, ,as continually superintending the government of the universe, and its finger, as di- leciing all the movements of the system ; and, when he has related a number of surprising vicissitudes and (vents, he takes his pupil up tv to an high mountain, whence he shows him all the kingdoms of the world, and all the glories of them'' to be continually under the controul and direction of heaven; and not collecuvcly to possess half the lustre of the excellence of one, pious disposition. Under the pen of this most christian writer, every baser metal is purified from its alloy. Every sounding action is divested of its bombast, and traced to its real source. Splendor has no dignity, if unassoeiated. wit'r virtue. Ambition is painted as a fury, that destroys. Heroism is represented as murder in disgoise. The laurels of an Alexander are wrested from his brow. — Ca?sar is stripped of his fictitious plumage. Theyiire both described, as vultures, preying on their species, who were born to be only the scourges of humanity, and a terror to the world. 'ibis man deserves universal veneration. His pupils should have raised a monument, to his memory, and posterity have rendered that monument, immortal, — Learning and religion should be grouped over his tomb, mingling their united tears for the loss of his vir- tues. H 86 LITTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. If you hu-2 not leisure to peruse his writing!!,' yet be careful to read all other history with this view, and it will lead \ on to God. It will teach you no longer to be dazzled with grandeur, because grandeur fades away. It will shew you, that vices have demolished the mighti- est empires, and swept the finest cities u with the besom o! destruction;' It will convince you, that every thing on earth is a shadow, and that neither men nor nations 1 continue in one stay." It will assure you, that, 14 though clouds and darkness may be about the throne of God, yet righteousness and judgment are the habita* tion of his seat. It will instruct you, that every action is u weighed in its balance ;" that however seemingly; disregarded for a time, vice and virtue will have their just proportion of punishment or reward, and that no- thing but rejfgion will be able to triumph, amidst the crush of elements, of matter, and the world. LETTER L. MY DEAR LUCY, THOUGH I think erery woman in the world should execrate the memory of the late Lord Chesterfield, as having written the most scandalous libels on her sex, yet his sketches of heathen mythology, of Grecian, Ro- man, anil British history, in the first volume of his let- ters, are well worth your attention. If this ingenious nobleman had given us more specimens of this nature, and fewer lectures on the graces and intrigue, the grati- tude of posteiity would have embalmed his ashes. He was certainly possessed of an elegant style, and had a very happy method of conveying his instructions. But in order to make any real improvement in this, or any other of your studies, let me advise you to read only one half hour, at a time, and to employ a double «pace, in abridging and expressing what you recollect, in your tftvn language. This will have the double ad- vantage of impressing it very strongly on your memo- ry, and enabling you to form a style of your cwn. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 87 Though a good style is, doubtless, a mark of genius, and not attainable by every person, yet it depends amaz- ingly on mechanical habit, as well as our gait, counten- ance and gesture. The pen accustomed to a certain routine of period, performs it as insensibly, as the memory retraces all th^ variations of notes in a song, whilst, perhaps, we are silently, occupied with some other object. Be so kind as to indulge me with a sig'u of these sheets exactly as they are penned from your first im- pressions, and I will endeavor to correct them, Banish the childkh fear of betraying any ignorance, where I cannot expect you to be informed ; and, if some, essen- tial alterations should be made, remember it is the pen of friendship, which erases, guided by that affection, with which I have the honor to be, Your ever faithful and affectionate. LETTER IT. THAT species of history, which describes the lives and characters of particular persons, and is included un- der the name of biography, is by far the mQst useful and interesting to a Woman. Instead of wars, sieges, victories or great achievements, which are not so much within the province of a female, it presents those domes- tic anecdotes and events, which come more forcibly home to her bosom and her curiosity. I have always thought that one great advantage of boys over girls, ii their having the most illustrious char- acters of antiquity to form their sentiments, and fire their emulation. Biography will open to you the same source of improvement. You read of persons, elevated with every noble sentiment and virtue ; and your judg- ment and taste will select some particular favorke from the group, as a model for your imitation. Though Johnson has been so very much celebrated in the republic oJTetters for all his productions, yet I 88 v LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. have always thought his Lives of the Po^ts by far hi, most agreeable performance. It has not that turgil pomposity of style, which appears in some of his more juvenile labors ; it is, all along, interspersed with judi- cious sentiments anil moral refactions ; it abounds with in orjginjaj vein of criticism, and anecdotes of so many illustrious men, as cannot fail to amuse, as well as to in- struct. His criticisms, it is true, have been controvert- ed, and traduced ; but what writings of merit are ex- empt from such a tax ? The enthusiastic admirers of .:ton, in particular, have handled him with severity. But who does not know that favorites, at any rate, will be defended ? But indeed all men of sense unite in paying a sincere respect to the memory of Johnson. In spite of all his petty and ungenerous biographers, the sneers of party malice, or the still sharper arrows of insidious friends, he stands an huge collossus, in the bosom of an ocean, unmoved with the angry dashing of its waves. Johnson, in all his multiplied productions, has not a gle period, that can patronize indecency cr unhinge belief. Andj though, now, it signifies but little to this extraordinary man, that he was considered as an oracle of knowledge in his days, as an ornament to his coun- try, and a blessing to the world, it must transport him r collect, that he has carefully endeavored to diffuse happiness, as widely as his writings, and to render pie- ty diffusive ns his fame. The death of the author will exempt me from suspicions of flattery or design in this little panegyric 7 . Gratitude may be allowed to offer, without any censure, this little incense to his venerable shade. If all the private anecdotes of every person's life and temper must be arraigned before the tribunal of the pub- lic, who could escape ? If Johnson was unaccommodat- ing, rough and morose, let it be remembered, that these were but little pimples on a skin, where the heart glow- ed with universal benevolence ; let it be considered, that conflicts, disappointments and misfortunes are un- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 89 fjiendly to sweetness of manners or cl ijr j^ot ition ; that severe application has a tendency to rtndtr an)' man ir- jitable and peevish ; that gaiety and sprightliness con- siderably arise from an ease of circumstances ; and It us oppose to these a piety, that was profound and warm, almost to superstition, and unwearied labors for the service of mankind, which scarcely knew a mo- ment's interruption. letter lii. SUL'LY's Memoirs, in five volumes are interspersed with very curious and interesting anecdotes ; and the private life of Louis XV, is a very entertaining work. Indeed the Trench particularly shine in biographical writing. It is quite in their province, and forms a part of the national taste. Their imagination sparkles, in an especial manner, in painting the complexion of courts, monarchs or personages of distinction. They feel as great an ardour for extolling the virtues of their k vol and his attendants, as we do for recording all the great achievements of the field or ocean. The Marquis Carraccioli is universally known, as an author of great vivacity and talents. He has written the Life of Pope Clement XIV, and it does honor to his pen, as well as to the memory of the sovereign pontiff. If the Marquis really wrote the fetters, which go un- der the name of Ganganelli, he has hit off vviih a won- derful address, the ear and features of the illustrious original. The habits, sentiments, maimers and dispo- sition of the Pope, as couched in this life, all breathe through these letters. The name of Dr. Johnson, and the intimacy known to have subsisted betwixt the (Parties, have given a great currency to Mrs. Piozzi's anecdotes, relating to this literary hero. But they have not immortalized either her talents, or the goodness of her heart. They are a most disgusting specimen of treachery in friendship j a II 2 90 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. copious effusion of spleen, that had long been collecting. They remind one forcibly of a number of littls insects, nibbling at their ease, on the carcase of some noble ani- mal, that a single motion of the living creature would have dispersed in an instant, or crushed into atoms. LETTER JLIII. WRAX ALL is a very agreeable author, and he has chosen a fruitful subject, in his Memoirs of the Kings of France, of the House of Valols. The execution is not inferior to the judiciousness of the design. His book has an admirer in every person of sentiment^ and taste. The late Mr. Sheridan is allowed to have possessed considerable abilities. He has given the world a spe- cimen of them in his life of Swift. It is, however, in my idea, too flattering a portrait. The painter was a countryman, and an admirer. No talents can convert deformity into beauty, or make darkness to be light. Swift was a very great, original genius ; but the in- decency of some of his writings is intolerable ; h'.s spleen, excessive, and his behavior to Stella, an eternal is tig ma on his memory and his virtues. Ever dabbling in the turbid ocean of politics, what business had he witJf the quiet and retired haven of the church? But genius and talents can embellish any side of a subject, and the biographer has poured on his favorite author, a deluge of panegyric. The life of Garrick is so much interspersed with the domestic history, and the most illustrious persons of his time, that will highly engage and gratify your curiosity. L is written by Davies in two volumes. England has long laboured with a disorder, that I can- not call by a better name, than the t/ieat rical mania. A principal actor is more distinguished, caressed and en- riched by a luxurious nation, than many of the most de- serving persons, in the learned profession. An Abing- don, a Sid Ions, and a Mara, (as once a Garrick,a Hen- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 9 1 derson, and a Yates) inchant the feelings of a British audience, drain the money which should be sacred to better purposes, acquire, in a few years, an independ- ent fortune, and are admitted to the first circles in the kingdom, whilst a thousand, amiable and meritorious clergymen are suffered to live in want, and to die in the most uncomfortable obscurity. This is not a very fa- vorable trait in the moral history of a nation. It seems rather a symptom of its approaching dissolution. Hume was a great chainpijn of infidelity, and as such, a character, that excites uncommon curiosity. He has written his own life, and, as an unique in biography, it is worthy your reading. Bolingbroke was another of the sceptical family. His history is agreeably recorded by Dr. Goldsmith. On the subject of biography, you will meet with a great variety of other, entertaining writers ; but I must not close this article, without particularly recom- mending a book, that has given me so much pleasure and information, as the life and writings of Gray, by Mr. Mason. A particular friendship of the warmest and most dis- interested kind, subsisted betwixt these celebrated au- thors. It commenced in that early period of life, when souls are jneap ible of guile or selfishness, and mutually expand ; and Mason has endeavored to immortalize it in a manner, which does equal credit to his heart and understanding. The history of a retired, literary person cannot gen- erally, present much variety of entertainment. But in the character of Gray, there is somewhat very interc t- ing ; and his friend has displayed it to the greatest ad- vantage. No man, perhaps, by such slight sketches, as the author of an Elegy in a country church-yard has left behind him, ever acquired so extensive a reputation. And there was a dignity, a softness and a delicacy in his whole manner of thinking and acting, which com- pensate for the want of more remarkable anecdotes, and of more sounding connexions. '.'2 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. LKT'IKR L1V. PEu\R 1UCY, M THE UK is not (says a sensible Writer,) a son or daughter of Adam, v. ho h.ts not some concern in the knowledge of Geography." It is necessary to \ our en* derstanding the connexion, which this globe has with the. other planetary system, and with all the wonderful works of God. It is indispeosible to your comprehend- ing history, or having a proper idea of the events and transactions it relates, as well as to divest your mind of little, narrow prejudices, by giving you a view of the customs, manners, ceremonies and institutions of all the different nations over the world. A celebrated writer * has called geography and chronology, the two eyea ol history ; the first informs you where events happened, and the latter, at what par- ticular period ; if it was not for these helps, your read- ing would be a confused chaos, wiihout order, light or perspicuity. Geography is, indeed, so much attended to at ali^ schools, that there is little occasion to dwell on its ne- cessity ; if you have learned the use ^f the globes, and the division of it by names, which are only fancied Tor the sake of reducing the immensity of it to the narrow scale of human comprehension, the best method, I know, is never to read the name of a place in a common news paper, or any other history, without immediately, recur- ling to authorities for the situation and division of the country in which it lies, the manners of the inhabitants, their ceremonies, civil government, and religious insti- tutions. It is this mode of studying from the urgency of the occasion, which gives energy to our researches and vigor to improvement. Guthrie is one of the best authors in geography ; and for chronology, the tables of 1)/. Pi lastly (a name, which * Lord Chesterfield. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 03 I would only mention, where science and not religion, is concerned,) are so compendious and comprehensive, as to afford you, on a single glance, considerable informa- tion. There is no species of knowledge, that is so easi- ly attained, as that of geography ; nor any of which the want is more flagrant and awkward. I lately blushed for a young lady, who was aslcec) in company, the latitude and situation of a particular place, which happened to be mentioned in the pdblic papers of the day. She was dressed in the highest taste. The roses and carnations vied in her countenance. She piques herself on her smartness and vivacity ; but in this instance, could make no reply, her embarrassment betrayed her ignorance, and politeness relieved it by a change of conversation. How much higher would her character have stood in the estimation of all sensible and discerning men, if she had come down stairs dressed in an elegant plainness, and, instead of standing so long before her glass, had devoted some little share of her time to this species of improvement. Not that I have any objection to a blush upon a woman's cheek. I think the crimson tint orna- mental ; but I would have yours to be the blush of iklicacij and reserve, not of ignorance , shyness or ill- breeding. LE1TER LV. MY DEAR LUCY, NATURAL History is another study, whioh I con- ceive to be particularly feminine. It has of lafe, been cultivated with uncommon attention. Botany has been, particularly, fashionable. It has found a place in the amusements' of the elegant, as well as the learned. No- thing is more calculated to amuse the mind, improve the health and spirits, and to inspire at once cheerful- ness and devotion. The surprising history of plants and flowers, the im- mense variety, the mechanism, order, government and 94 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. economy of anirmls, fowls with their plumage, and fish- es with their scales, fossils, minerals, petrifactions, mountains, vallies, vclcanos, all nature fall of life, full of happiness and full of miracles, will crowd your mind with the sublimest image*, and teach you to adore the great, almighty former and preserver of the world. What beauty in each flower ! What traits of divine wisdom and goodness in an insect ! Surveyed v, ith a truly philosophical eve, the whole creation is a temple ! Not a shrub, but is eloquent, not an animalcule, but is a powerful monitor of virtue ! I never spend an afternoon wich Miss Louisa — , without being both instructed and delighted. I never take a walk with her in the garden, but she unfolds a thousand, natural curiosities, which had hitherto escap- ed my unscienced or inattentive eyes. 1 never ramble with her into the fields, but she gives me such an his- tory of the most common plants and flowers, as at once RBrprisen ™y PVW^Jfi qn ^ gratifies my taste. In her closet she has a large Collection 01 insects, which hot* itticrofeccpe clothes with most exquisite beauty, and. a, museum,' filled with shells, corals, and petrifactions, the sparkling of which is exceeded by nothing, but the vi- vacity of her eyes, or the stronger or more permanent lustre of her virtues. I would infinitely rather have hertasj.e, than her for- tune. And I never quit her without secretly envying her enjoyments. She is ever springtly, because she has never a moment unemployed* She always smiles, be- cause she is always innocent. Her pleasures are ot the rational and refined kind. They never leave a thorn in the heart or pluck one, blushing rose from her cheeks. How solid and how calm, if compared with the midnight revels of fashion, or the giddiness of ad- miration ! Be like Louisa, my dear girl, and you will always be happy. Study nature, till it leads you up to nature's j ,'>:!. Pore on plants and flowers, till they perfume LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 05 you with a real devotion ; and I wi'l engage yon to be- come, in your turn, one of the most beautiful flowers in the creation. LETTER LVL NATURAL History is divided into three grand parts, as it respects the animal, the mineral, and the vegetable Kingdoms, and under these different articles, assumes the name of zoology, or an history of animals ; lithology, or a description of stones, fossils, &c. and bo- tany, or an account of herbs, plants, flowers. These again have, each, their respective subdivisions. Linnaeus, who was born at Upsal, is the great father of this science, and from the Sweedish schools have is- sued the works of the most eminent masters. But he is too voluminous and scientific for a female, who wants only a general knowledge of nature, and not to penetrate the minutiae of her plan. The Amamitates Academical are a number of ingen- ious essays on a vaiiety of subjects, selected from the works of the most capital disciples of the Linnsean school. Some of these have been translated by Stilling- fleet, under the name of Tracts on Natural History, and are very valuable and instructive-; others by Brand, in two volumes, which contain a number of very curious and entertaining descriptions. Pulteney's View of the Works of Linnaeus you may read, likewise with great pleasure and improvement. Next to these I should recommend to a mere English reader, the works of Ray ; him, who wrote " The wis- dom of God in the creation." They are highly useful and valuable, though written before this study had ar- rived to its present state of perfection. Goldsmith's History of the Earth and Animated Na- ture is but a mere compilation. Still it m^iy have its use, as affording some colhtteral lights and instructions. Buffon is an author of first rate abilities. His stvle is splendid j his knowled-ge is extensive, and his elo- 06 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY* :nce, in a high degree, brilliant and seducing. But I cannot recommend him for many reasons. He is too voluminous ; the extensiveness of his plan leads him into a great variety of detail, and of indelicate descrip- tions. He is more attached to systems of his own, thin the discovery of truth ; and he is a sort of sceptic, who resolves every thing into a chain of secondary causes, and sacrilegiously excludes the Deity from his creation. This temper is the bane of modern philosophers. Thev endeavor to account for every thing upon natural prin- ciples, and wherever they are puzzled, ridiculouslv dis- believe. Instead of making their know -ledge, a scaffold- ing to God, they build on it, a monument to their own vanity and folly, which will not stand, c: when \vind3 and storms arise." Do people of such distinguished a- bilities need to be reminded, that a world without de- signer an active machine, without a J*r&t, moving principle, involves the greatest and most palpable of contradictions ? Nature, in the hands of a true philoso- pher reads a continued lesson of piety ; in those of a false, one, it is the parent of scepticism, gloom and des- pair. Sir Isaac Newton was the most pious of men ; many of his humble followers have been as impious re- tailers of infidelity. You will derive great pleasure and improvement from all the writings of Mr. Pennant, and they are numerous. Always lively and always authentic, they entertain the man of taste, the scholar, and the antiquarian, as well as the naturalist. Few persons have published so much, in any one department cf science, with so great success. The Flora Londinensis cf Curtis is a splendid work, that does credit to the author. It is embellished with beautiful engravings of all the common plants and flow- ers of this country, and is still in continuation. Volcanos are amongst the prodigies cf nature, which fill the mind with the grandest and sublimest images. Hamilton's account of them, and Rar.pe en the volca- ncs in Germany, will astonish your imagination. You LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 97 may add to the list Swammerdam's History of Insects, translated by Floyd, and revised by Dr. Iliil. But I will desist, for if I was to give you only the ntimes of writers on the subject, they would fill a vol- ume. No private fortune would be sufficient to pur- chase them, and the perusal would require more time, than would consist with your other, various engage- ments. LETTER LVII> WHEN you have viewed th«: wonders of nature in Miniature, astronomy will shew them, in the sublime. — Telescopes will present you with a most stupendous view of the heavens ; suns, piled on suns ; worlds, on wurlds ; and the great creator, presiding over all, in the majesty of perfection. You will he lost and absorbed in the magnificent contemplation. You will feel yourself as nothing before God, and confess him to be all in all. A real astronomer must be pious^ or insensible. How- ever some have thought revelation partial, the language of these orbs is certnmly universal. "Their sound is gone out into all lands, and their words unto the ends of the world." The sentiment they proclaim, is majesty to God ; to man, humility, self-abasement, devotion. Nicholson's Introducticn to Natural Philosophy, in two volumes, octavo, is an excellent book upon this subject, and Derham's Astro-theology must elevate- the mind, and improve the heart of every reader. Grego- ry's Astronomy, and Huygen's Celestial Worlds dis- covered, are very useful and entertaining, and may to- gether form a sufficient library for this department of science. Perhaps I should have added Ray's Wisdom of God in the Creation. They, who declaim against knowkdg2, in a woman, have not surely considered how much this, and many other branches of it are con- nected with all the sublime and pious affections, I LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. LETTER XVIII. POETRY, I do not wish you to cultivate, further than to possess a relish for its beauties. Verses, if not excellent, are execrable indeed. The muses live upon a mount, and there is no enjoying any of their favors, unless you can climb to the heights of Parnassus. Besides a passion for poetry is dangerous to a woman. It heightens her natural sensibility to an extravagant degree, and frequently inspires such a romantic turn of mind, as is utterly inconsistent with the solid duties and proprieties of life. To increase the number of imaginary, when life a- bounds with such real sorrows, by nursing a sickly ex- travagant sensibility, is, in a rational creature, the very height of imprudence. The ancients endeavored to cherish fortitude, and resolution, by giving strength to the body and \ igor to the mind. From some of their states, poety, amongst other things, was absolutely ex- eluded, as tending to enervate the minds of a people and unfit them for the struggles and activities of life % and it is certain that the owners of an exquisite sensi- bility, for a few moments of pleasure, have days of vex- ation. In this human wilderness, thorns are peren- nials. Roses are but the perishable ornaments of sum- mer. The late Mr. Shenstone, amongst many others, is an unhappy instance of the misfortune I have mentioned. His works, though not of the first magnitude, are ex- ceedingly agreeable ; but his poetical enthusiasm was~a source of perpetual irritation and misfortune. Having cultivated his taste, more than his prudence, his feel- ings, more than his fortitude, and his imagination, more than his judgment, his life was one, unvaried train of inquietudes. His mind was ruffled with imaginary in- iuries ; his peace disturbed with fanciful affronts, and his disordered f.nances left him every thing, but com- fort, dignity, and independence. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 99 With a fortune, that only justified a neat and homely dwelling, his genius was not content with less than the superb appendages of a palace. In forming the Lease* ours, he sacrificed to enthusiasm, what he ow*d to con- tentment. He panted for n. paradise, and a paradise he had ; but it soon became a wilderness of thorns. Mer- ciless creditors had no candor for the poet, and made no allowance for the exquisiteness of his taste. They saw no charms in shrubs, in blossoms, or in prospects, and they awoke him with an iron grasp from his delicious intrancement. Whilst a noble neighbor, emulating and outvying, on a larger scale, the beauties of his elysium, or exhibiting it to a stranger, from an unfavorable point of view, inflicted on his sickly feel- ings, an heart-felt affliction, which he had neither the possibility of avoiding, nor the philosophy to support. LETTER LIX. THOUGH I do not wish you to become a poet, it 13 however, necessary, that you should not be wholly unacquainted with the writings of many, inimitable bards. They will certainly refine your taste, and spread a very elegant repast for your private amuse- ment. Shakespeare is, perhaps the first genius of the world ; and some of his dramatic works, whilst they astonish, will- give you an useful fund of historical information. The immortal poem of Paradise Lost should rot on- ly be in the hands, but graven on the heart, of every woman, because Milton, above all other authors, des- cribes the distinguishing graces of the sex, and in his Eve, has exhibited an exquisite pattern of female per- fection. On this subject, his feelings were always a- wakened in an extraordinary manner : his imagination glowed, and he has given it the finest touches of his pencil. Milton, like all great men, was fully sensible of the blessings we derive from the society of women, and LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. how cheerless the face of nature would have been With- out them. He, therefore, labors to make the mother of his Paradise every thing that c6uld charm, and every thing that could alleviate the infelicities of life. Let the libertirie read his description of marriage, and tell me what he thinks of the prevailing rage for impurity and seduction. Homer is universally celebrated ; and, though you tannot read his poem in the original language, Pope has given an admirable translation. The same may be said of Drydcn's Virgil, if you wish, to taste the exqui- site richness of these ancient authors. Mason's poems have great merit, and have acquired him considerable celebrity. His Caractacus, his Elfri- da, and his English Garden have all been admired.— Nothing, however, from his pen, has pleased me more, than the epitaph upon his lady. His talents seem to be particularly formed for the pensive and pathetic. But poetry, after all, is but an embellishment, and, in the i haracter of a divine, a very secondary distinction. How much more important and useful to mankind, are the labors of that pastor, who, by one judicious, impassion- ed and well directed discourse, appals the sinner, en- < "ravages the saint, revives the drooping, guides the per- plexed, or condescends to cheer the bed of sickness with divine consolations. This remark, however, is not particularly intended to depreciate the ingenious author of Caractacus. He is said to excel likewise, as a preacher. LETTER LX. IN Poetry, the ladies have, of late, asserted their claim to genius, and the trampled henorsof their under- standing. Several of them appear, on the walks of Par- nassus, with considerable lustre. Miss Seward,, in my idea, is a star of the first mag. situde in the hemisphere of imagination. She has giv- en us chiefly, little fugitive pieces j a monody on the LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY.. lOl death of captain Cook, and major Andn' ; a poem to the memory of lady Miller, and a few stanzas to Mr. Wright, on taking her father's picture. The last always gave me the highest pleasure. It required indeed no great effort, but is a most pleasing specimen of filial af- fection, and of a rich, fervid, glowing imagination. — Her Louisa, though her largest, is not, in my idea, her happiest performance. A novel is too much dignified by the charms of poetry. It is a courtesan, dressed like a queen. Whenever Miss Hannah More takes up her pen, she never loses sight of piety and virtue. Her Bleeding Rock, Search after happiness, Sir Eldred of the Bower, Sacred Dramas, Female Fables, fs:c. will please and in- struct you. The little tract, lately published, intiiled, 14 Thoughts on the Manners of the Great," which has had so very extensive a circulation, is said to have come from her ingenious pen. The design is excellent, and the execution displays a considerable knowledge of hu- man life and manners. I wish it may leave some last- ing impressions. But alas ! the dissipated have few iftr/dlfr tervals for reflection.. Miss Williams bids fair- for a poetic laurel, that shall long be green. Her Peru is a^ work of considerable merit. The little sonnets of Miss Charlotte Smith are soft, pensive, sentimental and pathetic, as a woman's produc- tions should be. The muses, if I mistake not, will in time, raise her to a considerable eminence. She has. as yet, stepped forth only in little things, witha diffidence th it is characteristic of real genius in \ts Jirst attempts. Her next, public entre may be more in style^and more consequential. The Comtesse le Genlis I have before mentioned, as a woman of a fine taste, and a cultivated understanding. Her Theatre stir V Education, as founded on a dramatic plan, may be recommended amongst other poetical pro- ductions. There is not a sweeter rose in the garden rat arc, than hers of Salency,„ I. 2. 102 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Lord Lyttleton was not, by any means, a capital poet. There is, however, such a delicacy, softness, piety, and tender pathos in his strains, as do the highest credit to his otl'h heart, and improve that of every attentive rend- er. His monody upon his Lucy has immortalized his sensibility, his affection!, and his virtue. Akenside's work on the Pleasures of Imagination, needs no other recommendation, than what it has receiv- ed from a generous and a discerning public. It is high- ly interesting ; it required a very considerable effort, and his genius has rendered it beautifully picturesque. Cowper's poems are calculated to do considerable service. He has made the muses hand-maids to reli- gion. He has chosen verses, only as a vehicle for con- veying instructions of so important a nature, as would not, by any means, have dishonored the pulpit. His style is simple, bold, manly, spirited, and energetic; his judgment, strong and penetrating ; his metaphors, for- cible and happily conceived ; his observations on life and manners, accurate, and his satire, just and poig- nant* He does not seem so much to have studied the pro- duction of a poem, with unity for its design, and har- mony in all its parts, as to serve the cause of piety and virtue by general, desultory and impassioned reflections. His work, on the whole, is a strong specimen of genius p.nd talents ; rigid criticism, perhaps, would say, that ;:iety wants a little mildness, and seems to breathe the spirit of a party. But the most finished poet of the age is' Hayley. — His Essay on History and on Epic Poetry, his Ode to Howard, and his Triumph of Temper, have received very great and very general applause. LETTER LXL YOU 11 question is a very proper one, and I will ( i ve you the best satisfaction in my power. Pronunciation or that part of grammar, called Or- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADW 103 thoepy, as to any uncommon or difficult words, is governed by the quantity, which those words have in the original language, from which they are derived. — As you cannot be supposed to understand the dead lan- guages, you will of course, frequently, be at a loss how to pronounce many words with propriety. 7'he only- method is recourse to a dictionary, and the best in my opinion, are those of Sheridan and Johnson. Pronun- ciation, however, is a very fluctuating thing } and though there.certainlv is a standard of propriety, over which mere fashion ought to have no power, yet, I should al- ways recommend a conformity to the manner of the po- litest people you may happen to converse with, rather than a pedantic affectation of grammatical strictness. The latter would be thought a conceited ostentation of knowledge, which, in a young lady, would not be for- given. The allusions to Jupiter, Pallas, Venus, the Graces, the Muses, Helicon, Parnassus, which have so much puzzled you in the poets you have lately read, will be fully explained in Tooke's Pantheon, or History of the Heathen Gods. The general fact is, that before the knowledge of the true God dawned on their minds, these poor, ignorant heathens never dreamed of one om- nipotent, all sufficient, all pervading spirit, which the scriptures have revealed, and described, as possessed of all possible perfections. They, therefore, formed to themselves a multipli iti/ of gods, and attributed to one of them in particular, with a specific name, every great quality or superior excellence, that appeared beyond the ability of mortals. These deities they arranged into different classes, according to their supposed degrees of pre-eminence ; and fancied some of them to inhabit the heavens, and others, the woods^groves, rivers, springs, mountains, he. You will be anaused with their fanciful opinions ; and if you think aright, you will learn to bless the Almigh- ty, on your knees, for having cast your lot in an age and country, where the gospel has dispersed these mists and lOt- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. errors, dignified our views, and nature bevond all ex- pression, and given us the clearest knowledge of our dirty. You will fed the force and propriety of that clause in our liturgy, a We bless thee for our creation, preservation, and all the blessings of this life ; but a- bovt all, for thine inestimable love in the redemption of the world by our Lord Jesus Christ, for the means of grace, and for the hope of glory." LETTER LXII. my nr..\R luct, A LI FTLE taste for the line arts of paintings, sculpture, architecture, wili.be of singular use. It will render every excursion you make, and every curiosity you behold, exceedingly delightful, and enable you to become entertaining to all with whom you converse. A person thus accomplished, surveys an elegant pile of buildings, the designs of a Palladio, the landscapes of a Claude Lorrian, the portraits of a Titian, or the transfiguration of a Raphael, with uncommon rapture* and can entertain. herself, for hours, with a ruin or a castle, in which the unskilful can see nothing but de- formity, or the corrosions of time. Wi iters on Sculpture and Architecture are not nu- merous, and I am wading bevond my depth when I at- tempt to recommend them. Winkle man's reflections on sculpture of the Greeks, Evelyn's Parallel of ancient and modern architecture, and Morris's Lectures, may give you v>me ideas on the subject. On the art of painting, more has been written ; yet without a natural genius for it, and some previous in- v.ructions from a master, I do not know whether you will ;>e able to make any gre.it proficiency, Webb's Inquiry into the Beauties of painting, is a very learned, elegant, ingenious work, and interesting, in a high degree, even to those who are, by no means, to be ranked among the cognoscenti. The quotations (rom Homer, Virgil, Shakespeare,. Milton, Boileau* LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 105 Moliere, Racine, Tasso, Ariosto, Metestatio, are not only well contrived to illustrate the subject, but to de- light every person of reading and taste ; whilst the pic- turesque imagery and splendid language would stamp a value on any production. I remember to have been charmed some yearn ago, with reading a small work, entitled, an •* Essav on Prints and Picturesque Beauty.' 17 I do not recollect whether it bore the name of any author ; but it struck me as a very interesting and valuable performance. Genius and knowledge were wonderfully united, and embellished the whole. Ferguson's Art of Drawing in Perspective, I con- ceive to be useful, as an elementary work. An Essay on Landscape may be considered in the same light ; and you will be instructed and delighted, at the same time, with Hayley's two epistles to Rnmney, and Fresnoy's Art of Painting* translated bv Mason. This last men- tioned author is said to excel in the three sister arts of painting, poetry, and music. In the two first he has given the world specimen's of his skill ; with the lat- ter he is said frequently to entertain the circle of his private friends. But the best place for gratify ins? your curiosity, and I should think for improving your taste in paintings, is the annual exhibitions of them at Somerset-house. The metropolis, amidst all its variety of invention, does not furnish, in my idea, a more elegant, or a more improv- ing, amusement. We see with pride, some artists of our own country, vying with the most celebrated mas- ters of antiquity. Under the hands of a Reynolds, a Wright, a West, and many others, the English canvas glows with inimitable beauty. A Raphael, a Titian, a Correggio, a Rubens, a Potrssia, or a Salvator Rossa seem in*->me degree, transplanted to thr* British isle. A stranger, indeed, is at first sight, so much dazzled with the splendour and elegance of that company, about him, that, in the charms of living beauty', he is tempted to overlook the efforts of the pencil. In rto other ptac&' that I ever saw or recollected, do art and nature so 10G LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. powerfully combine to bewitch the senses, and captivate the imagination. If my time and place of residence were at my own command, I should frequently in the season, devote to pleasure, one of those languid, afternoon hours, when the spirits are exhausted wi.h the employments of the morning, and want renewed vigor, tlasticity and anima- tion. I am much interested, believe me, in .the relish I would give you for {his speci'esof improvement. I look forward, with a degree of pleasure, to the time when L may be the companion of your little tours, and delight- ed with your observation ; when we may hang in curi- osity, over fossils and petrifactions ; when we shall pore, over paintings, buildings, ruins, with all the luxury of artiste, and in such innocent, rational pleasures endeav- our to forget the sorrow that will crowd on this varie- gated life. LETTER LXIIL IT is so very agreeable to peruse voyages and trav- els into foreign countries, by way of coming easily Rt a knowledge of their history, customs, ceremonies and degrees of civilization, that I do not wonder at the num T ber and multiplicity of these productions. Authors wish to be reaJ, and this is the sort of work, which, if judiciously executed, suits every taste. It has a ten- dency to enlarge the mind, and divest it of illiberal pre- judices. Books of this kind are now become so nume- rous, that the difficulty only is, how to make the selec- tion. I will begin with Moore, for he has pleased univer- sallv. Your collection will be graced by his View of. Soiiety and Manners in France, Swisserland, *nd Ger- many, in two volumes, and his View of. Society in Italy, in two more, Wraxall is another writer in this way, who has supe- yi - merit. He has published a tour through the nor* them parts of Europe, and through France. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAD), 107 Pennant has been singularly happy in all his attempts. He interests the antiquarian, the scholar and the man of genius in his various productions. His works are nu- merous. A tour through Scotland, Voyages to the Hebrides, a Tour in North Wales ; a Journey to Snow- don ; and Journey from Chester to London, &c. Swisserland is one of those romantic countries that de- lights us in idea. Coxe has given sketches of it, in a very pleasing and picturesque manner. Sherlock's English Traveller is a very original and entertaining book. The author is evidently a man of fancy and genius, but rather fulsome in his panegyrics on particular characters, and excentric both in his sen- timents and manner. He will, sometimes, make you smile with egotism and the appearance of conceit ; but he will likewise enlighten your understanding. Cordiner's Antiquities and Scenery of the North of Scotland is an entertaining work. The plates annexed to it, please the eye, and invigorate the imagination. A tour to the lakes is become very fashionable, and is said abundantly to repay the travellers curiosity. — West's description of them may be useful, though the language appears too florid and poetical. The Tour to Ermononville I have never seen ; but it is mentioned as possessing considerable merit. Gil- pin's Description of the River Wye abounds with beau- tiful scenery, and is a most lively and entertaining pro- duction. But the catalogue would be endless. A thousand, other books, of this kind, are at hand, whenever you are disposed to travel with them in your closet. If you have a little knowledge of Heraldry, it will be an embellishment ; an agreeable exercise of your taste and ingenuity, and may, occasionally, suggest a channel, through which you may serve a valuable friend. The only books I recollect, are the Elements of it, by Por- ney ; Gwillim, a large folio, and Edmonson's Complete Body of it, in two volumes. But after all this recommendation of different stud- 1QS LETTKKS TO A YOUNG LADY. ies, do not mistake me. I do not want to make you a fine writer, an historian, a naturalist, a geographer, an astronomer, a pott, a painter, a connoisseur, or a- virtuo- so, of any kind. But I would have you to possess such a general knowledge, as will usefully and innocently fill up } our leisure hours, raise your taste above fantastic levities, render \ ou an agreeable friend and acquaint- ance, qualify you for the solid duties of your station, whatever they may be, and elevate, above all, your soul to him, who is the source of all knowledge, greatness, and perfection. LETTER LXIV. THE accomplishments of a woman maybe compris- ed under some, or all of the following articles ; needle- work, embroidery, &c. drawing, music, dancing, dress, politeness, &c. To wield the needle with advantage, so as to unite the useful and beautiful, is her particular province, and a sort of ingenuity, which shews her in the most amia- ble and attracting point of view. Solomon describes his excellent daughter, as employed in the labors of the distaff, or the needle. Homer paiuts his lovely mat- rons as engaging in such domestic avocations. Andro- mache s thus relieving her solitude, when she is sur- prised into transport, by the unexpected return of Hec- tor from the war. The heart glows with pleasure, when we read the ac- counts of the good Roman matrons in the purer and unvitiated ages of their republic The greatest men, princes, warriors, senators and philosophers, were cloth- eel in the labors of their wives and daughters. Indus- try, in this happy period, was esteemed a virtue, and it was not beneath a woman of the first quality or under- standing to be an excellent (economist, who " looked well to the w a\ s of her household.'' Employment is the grand preservative of health at J irnocence. When we have nothing to do, we immedi- LETT EftB TO A YOUtfd LADY. 100 atcly become a burden to ourselves ; the mind and body languish for want of exercise, and we fall into a thou* sand dangerous temptations. LETTER LXV. IF you have any natural taste for drawing, I should wish you to indulge it. I think it an accomplishment, very well adapted both to the taste and delicacy of your stx. It will agreeably exercise vour ingenuity and in- vention. It will teach vou to di. cover a supciior finish in all the varied landscapes and scenery of nature ; to survey the works of our distinguished masters, with an higher relish and a more poignant curiosity ; and it will heighten all the innocent pleasures of your retirement. Wfien nature howls with winds, or is covered vviih Snow, you will be able in a moment, to call a fancy spring upon the canvas, of which the blossoms will be tver fragrant, and the trees ever green. You may thus have birds, always on the spray, and larks, apparently thrilling out praise to their bountiful Creator. LETTER LXVL MUSIC, by which I mean playing on an instrument, or occasionally singing, is a very desirable acquisition in any woman, who has time and money enough to de> vote to the purpose, for it requires no inconsiderable portion of both. It will enable you to entertain your friends ; to confer pleasure upon others, must increase your own happiness, and it will inspire tranquility, and harmonize your mind and spirits, in many oi those ruf- Jied or lonely hours, which, in almost every situation, will be your lot. The passions of mankind, however, have Very much debased and profaned this art, which, like others, was originally sacred, and intended to chant the praises of the Almighty. Many songs are couched in such indel- icate language, and convev such a train of l\ucious ideas, K 1 10 LITTEkS to a young lady. as are only calculated to soil the purity of a youthful mind. I should therefore, recommend, (if I may so express m) self ) rather the sacred, than the profane, of this study. Indeed, church music is, in itself, more de- lightful, than any other. What can be superior to some passages of Judas Maccabseus, or the Messiah ? There is not, perhaps, an higher amongst the melancholy plea- sures, than a funeral dirge. Dancing, in a degree, is professedly an essential part of a good education, as correcting any axikwardncss of gesture, giving an easy and graceful motion to the body, and if practised early, perhaps even in directing its growth. Modern manners, however, have carried the fondness for this accomplishment to an immoderate ex- treme. A passion for making the best figure in a min- uet, is vastly beneath the dignity of a woman's under- standing. And I am not sure, whether excelling in this particular does not inspire too great a fondness for dis- sipating pleasures, and proportionably abate the ardour for more retired virtues. A woman, who can sparkle and engage the admiration of every beholder, at a birth night or a ball, is not always content with the graver of- fice of managing a family, or the still and sober inno- cence of domestic scenes. Besides dancing is not, at certain moments, without its temptations. An elegant, "illuminated room, brilliant company, the enchanting powers of music, admiring eyes, obsequious beaus, at- titudes, &c. are apt to transport the mind a little beyond the rational medium of gentle agitation. I would not, however, be a cynical moralist, that would abridge you of any harmless amusement. I have only my apprehensions for your innocence, for indeed it is a plant of a very delicate complexion. And you will then have attained the perfection of your character, when you can mix a passion for these elegant accom- plishments, with a turn for solid and domestic virtue ; when you can, one night be distinguished at a ball, and the next, want no other entertainment than what the shade, your family, a well chosen book or an agreeable LITTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Hi tvalk are able to afford. I should wish you to be inno- cent, and \{ possible, accomplished at the same time ; but at any rate, I would have you innocent, because other- wise you cannot be happy. LETTER LXVIL MY DEAR LUCY, WILL you bear with my impertinence, if I attempt to give y«H my directions on a subject where yovir sex are allowed to possess infinitely more taste ami judg- ment than our own — that of dress, f offer, however, my plain and undisguised sentiments, only for your ad- vantage ; nnd I am sure will receive them with that candor and indulgence, to which my friendship for you has an indisputable claim. Neatness, you cannot cultivate with too much atten- tion. I would press it on every female, as strongly, if possible, as Lord Chesterfield did the graces on his son. The want of it is unpardonable in a menu but in n wo- man, it is+ehocking. It disgusts all her friends and in- timates ; has estranged the affections of many an hus- band, and made him seek that satisfaction abroad, which he found not at home. Some ladies, who were remarkably attentive to their persons before aiarria^e, neglect them afterwards, in an egregious manner. They cannot pay a worse compli- ment to their own delicacy, or to their husband*. If they conceived some efforts necessary to gain the prize, more, I am sure, are required to preserve it. It is the opinion of (I believe) Rochefocault, that nice observer of life and manners, that the affection of woman increases after marriage, whilst that of man is apt to decline. Whatever be the cause, a prudent wo- man will, at least, use every method in her power to guard against so mortifying a change. Neatness, how- ever, is easily practised, aad will always have consider- able weight. In the eyes of servants and domestics, indeed, a wo- 112 LETTERS TO A YuUN'O LADY. man losei her consequence nnd authority by a neglect of her person. She will not be obeyed with cheerful- ness, she will become an object of ridicule, in all their private parties and conversations. If inferiors must be subject, they will pay an unconstrained homage only to a person, who attracts by propriety, the estimation of the world. Neatoess is the natural garb of a well ordered mind, god has a bear alliance with purity uf heart. Law has said of his Miranda, that she was always clean without, because she was always pare within. And Richardson, whose tuste was as exquisite as his imagination glow- ing, has painted his Clarissa, as always dressed, before she came down stairs, for any company, that might break in upon her during the whole day. finery i«?_ seldom graceful. The easy undress of a morning often pleases more, than the most elaborate and costly o naments. I need not say of how much time and money they rob us, which are sacred to virtue and to the poor$ nor how soon this verv embellished body will be dust and ashes. The perfection of *he an is conveyed in iwq words ; an elegant simplicity. Ladies are certainly injudicious in employing so many mule friseurs about their persons. The custom is indelicate ; it is contrary to cleanliness, and all their manoeuvres can- not equal the beauty of natural, easy ringlets, untortur- td and unadorned. The nearer you approach to the masculine in your ap. parel, the further you will recede from die appropriate eracet vrd softness ol your sex. Addison, in his day, lashed, with a delicate vein of irony, this absurd trans- formation, 1 he present age wants such an inimitable censor. The Tiding habits, particularly, that have been so fashionable, and even made their appearance at all public places, conceal every thing that is attractive in a woman's person, her figure, her manner and her grac es. Xhcy wholly umex her, and give her the unpleas- ing air of an Amazon, or a virago. Who likes the idea ? or if you would be more struck with the akurdi- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAfcY 1 15 ty, tell me what you would think of petite mail res, in- muffs ? You immediately despise the ridiculousness of the one ; w T e &A\\y feel the unnaturalness of the other. We forget that you are xiomen in such a garb, and we forget to love. Every public pnper one opens, is a violation of your delicacy and an insult to your understanding. Pow- ders, perfumes, pomatums, cosmetics, essence of roses, olympian dew, artificial eyes, teeth, hair advertised for your advantage, would be an heavy stigma if some kin I and well disposed persons amongst our own sex, were not willing to share with you, a part of the burden. — Blush, my dear girl, at such unseemly practices. Be content to be what God and nature intended you : ap- pear in your true colours ; abhor any thing, like deceit, in your appearance, as well as your character. What must all sensible men think of a woman, who ha3 a room filled with a thousand preparations and mixtures to deceive him ? What monev, what time must be given to this odious insufferable vanity ! Under such unnatural management, how different must be the female of the evening and the morning ! What must we think of mar- riage, dressing-rooms and toilets ! What an opening for expostulation, coldnesses, aversions ! If an "ele- gant simplicity" be the perfection of dress, this is sure- ly, as far as possible, removed from perfection. It is not simplicity ; it is not elegant. It, would be cruel to add any thing to the punishment of the men, who can have recourse to such effeminate ar- tifices. They have already the scorn and ridicule of one sex, and the stern contempt and indignation of the other. They are poor amphibious animals, that the best naturalists know not under what class to arrange. Painting is indecent, offensive, criminal* It hastens the approach of wrinkles \ it destroys constitutions, and defaces the image of your maker. Would you think of giving the last touch to the piec- es of a Poussin, or a Salvator Rosa ? Believe for a mcv K 2.. i 14 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. ment, that the Almighty is, at least, as great in ku as either of these artists. Let the martyrs of fashion, luxury and dissipation, who turn night into dav, have recourse to this filthy and abominable practice. Let them seek a resource from the rebukes of their conscience in gaiety and noise. — But let the fairness of your complexion be only that of nature, and let your rouge be the crimson blush of health, arising from temperance, regularity, exercise and air. That beauty, truly blent, whose red and white. Nature's own sweet, and cunning hand laid on. Such simplicity will recommend you to God ; and if you retain any fears of offending him, how dare you de- face his image, in your countenance, by artificial deco- rations. Such innocence will charm, when paint is dis- solved. It will call up a bloom, and cast a fragrance even on the latest winter of your age. LETTER LXVIII. MI DEAR LUCY, \ WOMAN may be fairly allowed a little more attention to ornament, than would be pardonable in the other sex. Nature, through all her works, h.\s lavish- ed more externa! brilliancy, colouring and plumage on the female. And though dress, in itielf, is no essential quality, we are induced to judge more of your real char- ncter and disposition from it, than you are apt to imag- ine. We fancy it, in its different modifications, a mark of good sense, delicacy and discretion, or of the very opposite defects. Every sensible woman, therefore, will study it so far, as not to subject herself to unfavor- able constructions. She will endeavor to convince eve- ry beholder, that she knows the proper medium betwixt a ridiculous profusion, and a total want, of ornament ; that she can tissue plainness with elegance j that she LETTERS TO A YOU.NO 11 j does not wish to seduce by her appearance, but only to please ; that she haa cultivated her mind, much more than her person, and placed the h .ghest value, not on the outward, perishable casket, but the diamond within, I rejoice that the good sense of my country women has corrected some late glaring indecencies of dress. Young ladies should not be too liberal in the display of their charms. loo much exposure does not enhance their value. And it approaches, too nearly, to the man- ner of those women, w horn they would surely think it no honour to resemble. Bosoms should throb unseen, The bouffant was an ornament of too transparent a kind. Wherever delicacy throws its modest drapery, imagin- ation always lends inexpressible charms. As fine a wo-! man, as the Venus of Medici, would cease to be ad- mired, if curiosity ceased to be suspended. There is a great neatness in the dress of quakers, and of some other sectaries, who have copied their exam- ple. It has, however, more primness than ease. In this respect, you have too much good sense to affect singularity. Religion consists in something more sub* stantial, than any particular modes of appearance. And there is, if I mistake not, some conceit and pride under mis prodigious, over-acted plainness. Many, whom these narrow minded persons would sentence, perhaps, to torments, for being elegantly dressed, have hearts, that overflow with universal benevolence, and infinitely more, piety and goodness, than themselves. You know what young lady I mean by EmclLt. I do not know a person, that dresses better. She is singu- larly happy in the choice of colours. Like her virtues, they are of the soft and shaded kind, not the brilliant or the pjaudy. I never saw her fine ; but she never is Jan* tastic. She is seldom splendid ; but neatness is all her own. If she puts on only a ribbon, it is selected with all the exquisite modesty of her mind, and disposed of by the hands of taste. The graces always appear to have been in waiting for the moments, that she ever suf- fers dress to take up her attention. 110 LETWR8 TO A YOUKG LADT. I verv much admire the sashes, which, of late, have been so fashionable amongst young ladies. They give \r\c the idea of a childish simplicity, innocence and ease. These, and flowing ringlets, are on the system of nature* And nature will always please. I am sorry, however, to observe that these girlish or- naments should likewise have encircled the less delicate waists of some married women. There cannot be a more absurd or disgusting affectation. If I was not writing to ladies, I would be humorous. On such a subject, I could be severe. But some improper ideas might be suggested, and I will only say, that the sober aged autumn, is never clad in the cheerful livery of spring. On the whole, my dear girl, as a reasonable creature, and as a christian, never sulfer yourself to be led away by an extravagant fondness for dress. What is finery compared with understanding ? What is splendor, con- trasted with reason ? What is your body, but a tempo- rary receptacle for an immortal mind ? It is but the casket ; the jewel is the soul. And how very low and poor in itself is the ambition of apparel ? After all our efforts, we can never make it equal the beauty of lilies, or to vie with the exquisite tints of the rose. Whatev- er you can spare, from such expence, to give to the poor, will be a solid treasure, when beauty is but dust and SkShes, and when gaiety is forgotten. LETTER LXIX. POLITENESS, if supposed, like Lord Chester- field's, to be made up of dissimulation, or to consist in a number of ceremonious attitudes or fulsome compli- ments, without any meaning, is ridiculously frivolous ; but, on the other hand, if it springs from principle, from a real desire of pleasing, and is directed to its proper ends, it '13, at least, a most amiable quality, if it does not rank in the number of the virtues. In the in- tercourse of life, and the present state of society, this* LETTERS TO A YOUNG JLAi>r. 117 good breeding "13 necessary to our own peace and to that of others. It prevents a thousand inquietudes, ir- ritations, offences ; it diffuses an innocent pleasure, and it diffuses it every moment. We daily converse with many persons, considerably indifferent to us, and Jrom whom we expect neither services nor obligations, who, yet have it in their power, by a rough, ungracious man- ner, by unguarded sayings, Or speaking (as it is called) their minds, essentially to hurt our feelings, sour our spirits, give us a bad head-ache, or to break our rest ; there are as manv, on the other hand, who look up to us for no essential favours, whom, yet, in our turn, we nv.v, not a little, irritate and distress, by a want of ci- vility, by any hauteur or superciliousness in our looks or carriage, or a withholding of those kind attentions, which, on everv principle of reason, humanity and civil- ization, are reciprocally due from every human creature to not her. This reasoning, still more forcibly, applies to mem- bers of the same family; to wives and husbands; chili. dren and parents ; brothers and sisters. If this kind or good breeding be ever violated amongst them, the con- sequence is coldness, qtnrre's, and gradual aversion. 80 great, indeed, is the influence of true politeness over the mm I, that even favours conferred in an w.'Z- pleasiiiQr minner, without it, become an insupportable in- su't , whilst a refusal softens by it, into an obligation, and is sometimes, made the basis of a lasting gratitude, affection or esteem. This grace may be defined the art of being easy 'our- selves, in company, and of making all others easy about us. It is a proper medium betwixt the total want of, and an officious, overacted civility. It consists in a gen- eral, indiscriminate attention in doing little civil offices, and saying obliging things to all the parties we con- verse with ; in accommodating ourselves, as well as the conversation, to their particular tastes, habits and in- clinations ; in keeping every offensive subject and idea out of view; in never glancing at our own affairs, and I 18 LETTERS TO A TOUNG LADY. almost paying the minutest regard to those of others ; in annihilating, as it were, ourselves, and as studiously exalting all that are about us. If I have not much mistaken, the best rules for it will be found in that religion, which requires us " to love one another ; to be gentle and courteous ; to avoid offences ; to become innocently all things to all men ; in honour to prefer one another, and to esteem others better than ourselves." The exteriors of good breeding, such as presenting yourself gracefully, entering or quitting a room with ease, a proper gait, air, gesture, &c. I am not, at pres- ent considering. These are only acquired by early edu- cation, habits of good company, or by a general inter- course with the world ; and though they may be want- ing, I will venture to sav, that the person will always please, and always be respected, who possesses only this principle within. True politeness gives a lustre to all our good quali- ties. It is a sovereign enamel to all the virtues, and proportionably extends our power of doing good.-—. Learning, riches, station, talents, genius, without it, are overbearing and insufferable, or at least may be very awk ware/ and unpleasing. They resemble a rich wifn- ished picture, thrown into a dark and an imphasant room. Politeness gives them the last touch, raises them into a proper light, and clothes thena with the most beautiful drapery. Religion itself has often suffered for want of this grace. Good people have not always been gentle, courteous, or well bred, and an odium has been fixed on their profes- sion, which has deterred many from becoming con- verts. Many bad men, on the other hand, by a pleasing manner, have so successfully varnished over their vices, as to have acquired a considerable reputation. Their crimes have been forgotten in their politeness. Can I mention a stronger argument to recommend this accom* piishment? We should not, surely, for want of a little care, " suffer our good to be evil spoken of." % LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 119 LETTER LXX. IT is a great unhappincss to many ladies of fortune, that they have not sufficient employment to fill up their time ; and, in order to prevent that languor and ennui, which are the most unpleasant feelings of human life, either fall into a low state of spirits, or have recourse to play, public pleasures, or a perpetual round of visits, for their amusement. The religious exercises, however, and the studies I have recommended, will not only occupy your hours in a rational and useful manner, but some of them, from their very nature, will become an inexhaustible source of the purest pleasure. Still uniformity, in any one pursuit, however pleasing, will exhaust the spirits, and they will frequently want relief. The eye could not constantly behold, without injury, the most beautiful landscape. It may, perhaps, be the privilege of angels, and superior spirits, to serve their Maker without wea- riness or distraction ; but a mind, united to a body of clay, must have very frequent intervals of languor, and want as many of intermission. Innocent relaxation is as much a part of true wisdom, as employment itself. Indeed it is necessary to fit us for our duties. The earth itself would not be able to vegetate and shoot forth into all the bloom and verdure of spring, if it did not regain its exhausted powers dur- ing the sombrous leisure of the winter. The rule is, we should amuse ourselves, in order to live, in the true sense of the word> and not live to be amused. Relaxation, conducted on this principle, will never occupy too great a share of our time or atten- tion. It will be consistent with the universal principle of " doing all things to the glory of God." A woman's amusements should, as much as possible, be domestic ; and her own walls will present many ex- cellent opportunities of such a nature. The exercise of parental, or filial affection, is a source of heart-felt 130 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. and refined pleasure. Intercourses of tenderness be- twixt branches of the same family, and the 1'mle enga- ging attentions they create, stimulate the finer move- ments of the body, and give play to all the refreshing emotions. A wether, in particular, must have these ?iw ural delights in perfection. Il^r heart must vibrate, with an exquisite fondness, to the playful graces of a little offspring, and their continually unfolding charm?. Rxercise in the open air, is another great anuu-ement. Fresh breezes, variety of objects, gentle motions, and all the charming pictures of nature, cheer the mind, and invigorate the spirits. The sedentary life of women is the parent of many fashionable complaints ; weak nerves, low spirits, vapours, hysterics, languors. No constitu- tion can long withstand the bad effects of luxury and in- action. Such people may exist, but they cannot l,ve. In a rich entertainment, Mr. Addison saw fevers, dropsies, gouts and rheumatisms in embryo. Who, that looks at women, emaciated with midnight pleasures, and pale for want of exercise and air, must not behold the seeds of infinite disorders, and likewise tremble for the rising generation ? The ancients paid a very nice attention to the con- stitution of females. To give them, in particular situa- tions, every degree of firmness, was not thought be- neath the attention of those great men, who, by their eloquence and valour, astonished the world. Attention to a garden is a truly feminine amusement. If vou mix it with a taste for botany, and a knowledge of plants and flowers, you will never be in want of an ex- cellent restorative. Our first parents are described by Milton, as tending the shrubs and flowers of their para- dise, with unceasing assiduity, and as rising with the dawn to work : Amongst sweet dews and flowVs, where any row Of fruit trees over woody, reach'd too far Their pamper'd boughs, and needed hands to check Fruitless embraces, or they lead the vine To wed her elm LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 1J] There is an inexpressible tranquility in a garden, which soothes the spirit into that kind or' cheerful pen- siveness, which is perhaps, the right temperature of the moral constitution. Our Saviour often resorted to a garden. Innocence and piety found it the happiest place for meditation and repose. It is impossible, in- deed, to have a richer blessing, than a taste for the rcncral beauties of nature. It is an inexhaustible fund of pleasure within every person's reachi; it purines and refines the mind, and raises it above the artificial gaie- ties, which are purchased at so great an expense of time, money, and often, of constitution. O bles'd of heav\i, whom not the languid songs Oflnxury, the siren, nor the bribes Of sordid wealth, nor all the gaudy sports Of pageant honours can seduce to leave These ever blooming sweets, which, from the store Of Nature, fair Imagination calls To charm the enJivenM soul. Thus the men. Whom nature's works can charm, with God himself Hold converse, grow familiar day by day With his conceptions, act upon his plan, And form to his the relish of their souls. B at friendship, after all, is the great medicine of life. We were born for society, and the mind never so ef- fectually unburdens itself, as in the conversation of a well chosen friend. Happy the woman, who finds such a treasure ! "It is more precious, tflan thousands of gold or silver." Great care, indeed, judgment, taste, and vigilance are absolutely necessary to direct you in the choice. A strict friendship is adopting, as it were, the sentiments, the manners, the morals, and, almost the happiness or mis- ery of others. Religion should guide you on this oc- casion. None but a good person is capable of true at- tachment ; and, I trust, with you no other would as- similate. If vou can meet with such a character, who% L ! 22 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. at the same time, has a liberal and cultivated mind, you are rich indeed ! Sincere friendships are, more generally, formed at an early age. The heart, in this tender season, is soft and unsuspicious. It is amazing how the little tumults of life afterwards jostle us against, and put us out of hu- mour and conceit with one another. Sensibility be- comes petrified by age and observation. Ambition, avarice, and the little paltry competitions, freeze up the generous current of the soul. LETTER LXXI. PUBLIC pleasures are esteemed and called the a- musements of women. But I think them far from an- swering the name. In fact they agitate, rather than re- lieve, and are more frequently sources of vexation, than repose. Superior rivals eclipse ; fancied friends are in- attentive, and the gaiety of the scene has no connexion with quiet of the heart. The time, money, and prepar- ation they require, are a serious consideration, and their frequency renders them a business; instead of preserv- ing health, they undermine and destroy it. Late hours, hot rooms, and an agitated mind, are unfavourable to rest ; and the God of sleep will not long be defrauded of his rights, without retaliating the offence. What we call pleasure, is but a splendid and voluntary service. If it had not the name of amusement, we should shrink from it, as an intolerable burden. Who are so great slaves as the votaries of fashion ? What requires more systematical diligence, than the watching of every varying mode of dress, and "catch- ing these living manners as they rise ?" Of all women, they who call themselves fashionable, are the most unhappy ; ever idly busy ; ever vainly agitated ; their peace depends on a whisper, on a look, or a thousand little emulations, too ridiculous to b : mentioned ! They dread a private moment, more than an assassin, and with very great reason ; they cannot LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 12^ glance int9 themselves with comfort ; they cannot look into eternity without hope ! Reason suggests, that they were born for something higher, and there are moments when conscience will be heard. How unheeded a*e the cries and prattle of their in- fants! How unhappy must be the man, who lias receiv- ed from such women, vows which they will not perform, of fi lelitv, and of attachment ! After all, it is only in the practice of virtue ; it is on- ly in domestic life, that lies all the solid, because all untumultuour, joy. LETTER LXXII. IT would be uncomfortable to yourself to live wholly alone in the midst of society ; and to others, it would carry the appearance of great pride* or conceit, or sin- gularity. As we were born to be citizens of the world, we feel ourselves uncomfortable when we are not in the exchange of little civilities with people about us ; and they, in their turn, contract unpleasant piques and prejudices against us. Mixing with company has cer- tainly the good effect of promoting benevolence, aud preventing many little shynesses and misconstructions. Nay, even the highest and most insignificant conversa- tion has a tendency to relieve intense thoughtfulness, and keep the mind from preying too much upon itself. Tea parties are the general mode of society amongst ladies. And you must give in to them,' in some de- gree, if you will cultivate any acquaintance with people of fortune. Some of your sex spend their time in a continual rotation of these visits, and have so many pre- concerted engagements on their hands, as require a very orderly arrangement upon paper. But this is a most useless and insipid life ; and, where there is a family, cannot fail to interfere with many duties of far higher importance. The time, that is taken up in dress alone, and the money it requires, are a prodigious sacrifice. Nor in the light of amusement alone, is this continual l'2-i LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. visiting to be much recommended. It affords neither air nor exercise, and, frequently, not much agreeable or useful conversation. The generality of men are so much undomesticatcd, so lost to every thing that is in- nocent to taste, or natural in pleasure, that they are but seldom to be met with in these parties. A group of beautiful females are not frequently seen together, with-, out one single person of the other sex, to share the en- joyment ; and it is, I conceive, in mixed companies a- looe that conversation has its proper interest, flavour, of improvement. Your visits, therefore, I trust, will be comparatively, rare, and nicely selected ; and I hope you will always preserve yourself from the reproach that is generally thrown on these meetings, as being vehicles of gossip- ing and scandal. It has been objected to your sex, that they are prone to satire* At a certain age, and under some disappointments, perhaps this is true. They have been collecting, for many years, a quantity of spleen, and imprudently discharge it on every person that falls in their way. This renders a woman unlovely indeed. Nay, the attempt at wit, or saying smart things, is, by no means to be encouraged. True humour is the lot of [cv;, and can never be an advantage to a woman. From her we expect the qualities, that please, soothe, and en- liven. Unfortunately they, who think themselves in possession of this weapon, are brandishing it indiscrim- inately on all occasions, so as sometimes to wound their very nearest friends, li you could really say the smart- est thing, you might be feared, but you never would be loved. The curiosity *of women is a proverbial object of satire, and gives birth to all that little gossiping which I have reprobated. Never convince the world, by an attention to mere trifles, that you have so unfurnished a mind, or so little to engage it. li^^d Hayley's truly humorous Essays on Old Maids, and blush at the prac- tice. Remember the fate of poor unhappy spinster, who caught her death by her immoderate curiosity. LETTERS TO A YOUxNG LADY J Jj You can surely find infinite subjects for the enter- tainment of an hour, without descending to these littlo things. If you cannot, it is high time to give up (what is only called) amusements, for that, which is a real one, a walk, a ride, a book, a garden, or the society of a chosen friend. It is astonishing into how many difficulties a woman betrays herself, who is fond of this practice ; what quarrels, misconstructions and explanations, what se- cret shyness, aversions, mischiefs, such banblei s create ; what friends they separate, and what a badge of infamy they fix upon themselves, in the eyes of all the .sensible i'.nd the good ! There was a famous school amongst the ancients, where the pupils spent several years in learning the ve- ry necessary art of being silent. Remember, my dear girl, that nature has given you two ears, and only one tongue ; and that scripture has said, ( - be swift to hear, bat slow to 3peak." LETTER LXXill. CARDS, which are the inseparable concomitants of tea visits, and introduced as soon as persons aie well seated in company, are a very equivocal pleasure, and, by no inea-jr, to be much recoTi mended. Little habits insensibly beget a pamen for il-.i m ; and a passion for cards, murders time., money, talents, understanding, every thing that is rational in our nature, and every thing that is divine. If experience did not convince us of the fact, one should never have imagined, that a reasmable creature would ever have been able to consume hours, days, weeks, months, years, in counting over the black and red spots upon paper, and chikiishly to quarrel about their success — a creature, who has an understanding, that is capable of improvement, to an infinite degree ! a crea- ture, living in a world, where knowledge is immense^ . every iiower or shrub a subject of ajstonisrujaeiii -• t26 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. who has a temper, that requires continual watchfulnesa ; a soul that needs unremitting cultivation ; perhaps chil- dren, that call for incessant instruction ; amidst objects of distress, for which heaven begs each superfluous pen- ny, and in a body, that may, any moment, drop into the grave ! I will advert, no longer, on the moral consequences. A woman, who has a wish only to please, should not be much addicted to this practice. It is very apt to ruffle the temper, and discompose the features ; and a sour or an angry look is more destructive to female charms, than an high scorbutic flush, or the small-pox. It is said in favor of cards, that they prevent scandal \ and are a substitute to many, for the want of conversa- tion. This conveys a severe stigma both on our hearts and understanding. It supposes, that we have few stores of entertainment xvithin ourselves ; and that the only way to avoid a greater crime, is to fall into a less. Our moments, I fear, will not bear the scrutiny of con- science or reason, much less of the great day, if we can- aot contrive to spend them in an innocent and useful manner, without the low resource of either scandal or play ! LETTER LXXIV. THE defenders of cards, however, will say nothings in favor of gaming. No fortune, they know, is equal to its extravagant demands. An unlucky throw loses, thousands in a moment. It has reduced the most opu- lent families to indigence ; it has led some to forger)', and an ignominious death ; others, whose pride would not brook, the degradation, to the fatal act of suicide ; at best it has plunged into poverty and distress, many heirs of honorable and itlastrious houses, who wer^ born, in all appearance to happier days. Your moderate card players (as they call themselves,) have often wondered, what can tempt people of fortune to such a dreadful and ruiaous. amusement as that o£ LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAD/. 127 gaming. I will venture to say, that this shocking prac- tice is nothing more, than the spirit of card playing, car- ried to its extreme : that equal temptations would pro- bably have led them to the very same imprudence ; that they both, generally, originate in the same principle, (the want of something substantial to fill and exercise the mind,) and are only an artificial method of destroy- ing that ennui and languor, which are the most insup- portable feelings of human life ; and that the cure of both must, equally, spring from solid knowledge and from solid virtue. Though gaming, at first ', rises from no worse a prin- ciple, than a want of amusement, or of having some- thing to call the passions into exercise, yet, in its conse- quences it has a tendency to. eradicate every religious and moral disposition, every social duty, every lauda- ble and virtuous affection. It renders the mind selfish in the extreme, and callous to the touch of woe, in eve*- ry shape ; whilst it stops up the sluices of charity, it ex- tinguishes the inclination for it ; it is deaf to every call of friendship or of prudence.. There can be no such thing, as an attentive parent, mother, wife, brother, sis- ter or a sympathizing heart, where this infernal rage has possession of the soul. Every thing else is swallowed up in the all-devouring vortex. A Gamester would stake the last thousand on a throw, though a prison for her husband, rags for her children, or a gallows for her near- est friend, were the melancholy prospect ! If you disbelieve this reasoning, look into life. What* effects has this passion gradually produced on women, who had once hearts full of tenderness and virtue, and were affected with every appearance of distress ; who had from nature, every refinement of taste, and every, elegance of manners to captivate and charm ? If it were not invidious, I could produce many living* characters to support my assertions. They would make a dismal picture, and the motto would be, 4 » beware of beginnings." 128 LF.TTEHSTO A YOUNG LADY. Though 1 abhor novtls, yet, perhaps, the celebrated one of Cecilia is worth reading., if it was only to guard our fashionable ladies from splitting on the dreadful rock of the Harrds. JMany characters, in that book, are overstrained ; but this is borrowed from real life, aad daily observation. LETTER LXXV. h \Y down a little plan for yourself, and all your studies, exercises and employments will be easy and practicable. You will have time for every thing ! and \ ou will never seem in a hurry or emb&Prasfetk Qrden is the first law of nature, and of nature's God. The moon, stars and tide vary not a moment, and the sun knoweth the u hour of its going down." Without order, a thousand things will be improperly delayed, or wholly neglected. Whilst we are hesitat- ing where to begin, or what to do, hours fly away, in- sensibly, never to return ! If every thing koows its place, vou will escape the los3 of many, valuable moments, and the anxiety of as many unprofitable searches. Exactness is, by no means, the necessary appendage of an old maid. Order is the very parent of tranquility. A person is always easy, whose affairs are, always, in a regular arrangement. At the same time, let the mechanism of your process be invisible. The perfection of art, you know, is to conceal it. Be always ready to receive your friends with an open countenance, and a cheerful heart. Society and con- nexion have claims upon us, to which we should sacri- fice every selfish consideration. If you are an early riser, you may find time for every thiftg. It is amazing how much is gained by lopping off an hour or two, from indulgence in the morning. — Nor is the mere saving of time the only advantage. — Our spirits are more lively, and our faculties are m awake. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 129 I do not know a practice, which I should more re- commend, whether devotion, health, beauty, or im- provement of the mind, were the objects in view. How cheerful and how animated are the meditations of the morning ! what a delightful bloom flushes into the cheeks from its balmy exhalations ! What an unspeak- able cheerfulness glides iato the soul from hearing the devotional matins of the lark, and from beholding the new-born scenery of nature ! How necessary is such a regimen to preserve that sweetness of complexion, and of breath, which are the very essence and perfume of beauty ! When people think of accounting to God for the talents they have received, they overlook the hours which are lost in morning sloth, and unreasonable indul- gence. I have inured myself, for many years, to this habit of early rising, 'in the spring months of April and May, particularly, I grudge every moment that is wasted af- ter five. I consider it as a rude neglect of all those sweets, which opened to s.nlute me. A-nd I always find so much more deducted from the firmness of my health, and the vigour of my understanding. LETTER LXXVI. I HAVE indeed, as you say, frequently dwelt with pleasure on Miss* Louisa , and do think her a charming woman. She always stru :k me as possess- ing, in a superior degree, those qualities which consti- tute the graceful and attractive, and therefore as a very- proper pattern to all young people. Not that I think a servile imitation of any original, however excellent, would render another pleading. Nature no more in- tended any two persons to have precisely the same man* Tier, than the same eyes or features, or complexion. But still a familiar intimacy with such a woman must insen- sibly communicate some traits of resemblance, which by incorporating wi'h the general mass of a character, will form a beautiful and consistent whole. I TO LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Though I have always admired her only hi ths grots, and was charmed, without considering the constuuent principles of her excellence, I will, as you request it, en- deavor to analyze and trace them to their source. Her person is rathsr gcnleely than beautiful, so that she is more indebted to herself, than to nature, for her attractions. And a wonderful energy indeed they have. For I have often seen this girl steal the notice of the whole company from others of her sex, who were infi- nitely more distinguished by the beauty of their persons, as well as the advantage of birth and fortune. The ground work of ail her charms is (what I cannot call by a better name than that of) simplicity ; an art- less, undesigning, unstudied manner, flowing from an in- innocent and virtuous heart, which never seeks conceal* merit y as having indeed nothing to conceal. Louisa nev- er affects to be any thing, but what she is. She does not exalt herself above measure, nor ever ridiculously degrades herself, in order to be exalted. Her gestures, attitude, voice, pronunciation, are all under the imme- diate impression and guidance of nature. Louisa ex- presses an innocent pleasure, because she feels it in the company of sensible and agreeable men, and yet never seeks it with an improper avidity. She never harrangues upon, or vaunts a superior sensibility, but frequently displays no inconsiderable share of it, by involuntary e- motions. She never, in any respect, affects connexions, appearance, or any thing above her fortune, nor endeav- ors to shine at the expence of others. This, though very imperfectly described, is, accord- ing to my idea, the first excellence in the character of this lady. It is the very reverse of that absurd affecta- tion, which, by assuming a thousand fanciful shapes, renders graces unlovely, and even beauty disgusting- Louisa charms every person, because she is always ami- able and obliging, without studying to charm. Her face is always welcome in company, though she throws no, artificial lightning into her eyes, softness into her features, r\or lisping into her articulation. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Ul The common systematic education of girls is unfavor- able to this simplicity. The tendency of modern culture is to raise art upon the ruins of nature. Such a method would not succeed in any thing else, and how should it ;n the treatment of women ? If there be one object in the world, more disgusting than all others, it is a girl, whom nature formed to be innocent and artless, reduc- ing affectation and disguise to a system. It is with simplicity of manner, as it is with ease of style, in a writer. VVhen we read his works, it appears the most easy attainment imaginable ; but, in fact, no- thing is so uncommon, either in conduct or in writings. And the reason must be, that, instead of attending to the guidance of nature, people make an extraordinary effort to be something great, or superior, and uncom- mon. Simplicity may be styled the easy and the grace- ful negligence of conduct ; yet, as in dress, it charms more than the most elaborate ornaments. Through all the wonderful works of God, there is a majestic simplicity. Nature knows no affectation. Her prospects, hills, vallies, alcoves, grottos, are all unstudi- ed ; her magnificence is wild and artless. 1 here is a simplicity of design and effect in all her wonders, in the construction and revolution of planets, in the flow and ebbing of the tides, and in the vomiting of immense volcanos. The carnation never aims at the stately mag- nificence of the ostentatious hoary oak. Every rose is content with its own natural hues and odours ; and af- fects not the elegant sweetness of the Reseda, (mini- onette.) Nature is the standard of perfection. Every charac- ter and every art is only so tar finished, as it approaches to her likeness. No paintings are beautiful without this ground-work of simplicity, it charms in a Correg- gio. It was the excellence of a Raphael. It lives in the exquisite touches of a Reynolds. The beauty of all writing is founded ia simplicity. It was with Homer, Virgil, and Milton, when they Sketched out their inimitable poems. Of Shakespeare 132 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. it was the very soul. Statuaries, sculptors, architects, have only gained an extensive reputation, in proportion as they have studied this divine simplicity. No woman can be graceful without it. It will go further, in the art of pleasing, without any accomplish- ments, than all the accomplishments will go, without it. LETTER LXXVII. ANOTHER striking quality in Louisa, vs her con- stant cheerfulness. Though few women iri the world are more serious or thoughtful, where any solid duties are concerned, where the health, peace, comfort, con- venience of her friends and parents, or any domestic at- tentions are at stake, and though she is possessed of such an exquisite sensibility, as is apt to produce an unevenness of spirits ; yet, whenever I see this lovely girl, she always beguiles me into a temporary cheerful- ness, by the force of her own. This gaiety of heart, equally removed from a thoughtless levity or a moping gloom, is a most desirable quality in women. Men are perplexed with various anxieties of business and ambi- tion, and are naturally more thoughtful, profound, an! melancholy ; women certainly were formed to soothe and to enliven* It is one of the greatest blessings we derive from their society, and from the most sacred of all con- nexions. Cheerfulness (saith the wise man) doeth good, like a medicine. It has a wonderful effect on all the finer or- gans of the body. If it was not for little innocent sallies of this kind, it would be impossible to bear severe ap- plication. The year would be insupportable, if it was wholly composed of the dark and gloomy days of No- vember. There are many unavoidable ill*, sicknesses and mis- fortunes in human life, which will come uncalled to de- ject our spirits, and poison o*ur repose ; but we should not anticipate them by gloomy apprehensions, nor ever suffer an unnecessary melancholy to :>it upon our looks* LL ITERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 133 It is the truest policy to be innocently gay and cheerful, whilst we can* It forbids the approach of wrinkles, and adds many years to the little fleeting span of human life* Some pietists have encouraged gloom by their er- roneous notions of the Deity, and of christian self-deni- al. But I should strongly suspect their goodness, or their judgment. If any thing can make a person truly cheerful, it should be a good conscience. And true reli- gion is doubly charming, when it wears a smile. A melancholy countenance is by no means feminine. It is as remote from- the true point of gracefulness, in the sex, as ill-natured wit, or ironical pertness. LKTTER LXXVIII. THOUGH Louisa is the most remote bom prudery) X>t any woman I know, easy and accessible to the other sex, and cheerful, lively and unconstrained, in her con- versation with them, yet she has really so great a share of true, female delicacy, that the most licentious man living would not dare to use a double entendre in her company, or give the conversation an improper turn- Nor is it, that she has reduced rules of propriety to a system. She has really a native feeling, which vibrates to the most distant touch of what is proper and becom- ing, and would tremble, like the sensitive plant, where any thing, that could stain the delicacy of her mind, was conveyed in the most distant allusion. Fashionable manners have been long attempting to banish delicacy, as a sort of incumbrance ; but no wo- man will ever long be lovely without it. Let France or Italy do what they will, it is that sacred fence, which is never broken down, without melancholy consequenc- es. Delicacy is a very general and comprehensive quality. Conversation, books, pictures, attitude, gesture, pro- nunciation, should all be under its salutary restraints. If a girl ever loses it, farewel, a long farewel to all her greatness ! If this " salt have lost its savour, wherewith shall it be seasoned ?" M 1 34- LT.TTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. How unfit are many parents to educate a daughter ! M'hat injudicious pleasantries do they sometimes use, even in their presence ! A girl should hear, she should see, nothing, that can call forth a blush, or even stain the purity of her mind. Another distinguishing grace of Louisa, is softness. She is (what nature intended her to be) wholly a woman. She has a quality, that is the direct opposite to mcuili* ness and vigour. Her voice is gemle ; her pronuncia- tion delicate ; her passions are never sulfered to be boisterous : she never talks politics : she never foams "with anger : she is seldom seen in any masculine amuse- ments : she does not practice archery. I will venture to prophesy, that she will never canvass for votes at an election. I never saw her in an unfemininc dress, or her features discomposed with play. She really trem- bles with the apprehension of danger. She feels, unaf- fectedly, for every person exposed to it. A friend leav- ing her father's house, only for a short time, calls forth her concern. The farewel tear stands big in its trans- parent sluice. And whenever he returns, the easy, un- dissembled smile testifies her joy. She displays more sympathy for the indisposition of a servant, than some do for the death of their nearest friends. Of all the women I ever saw, Louisa has the most universal and indiscriminate affability. She never meets any poor persons in her neighbourhood, without entering into a very minute inquiry about the health of their children, family and friends ; and the villagers re- vere her. They know that she is constantly planning for them some assistance and relief. Little minds endeavor to support a consequence by distance and hauteur. But this is a mistake. True dignity arises from condescension, and is supported by noble actions. Superciliousness is almost a certain mark of low birth, and ill breeding. People, who have just emerged into greatness, think it necessary to maintain their superior- ity by a proud look and high stomach. 1 he cense* quence is general hatred and contempt. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY , 13.} In fact this proud, high-bearing reserve, is a very great crime. Every person, that bears the image oi his Maker, is entitled to oar attentions, and indeed our benevolence. Inferiority is, oi itself, a sufficient bur- den, without our endeavouring to aggravate it by ill— nature or neglect. I have otten heard Louisa dwell, with rapture, on the entertainment and edification she has received in many cottages when she has been carrying clothing, cordials or money to the distressed inhabitants ; and tell me which is the. more dignified character, a woman who would turn from her poor neighbours with disdain, or one, who for her kindness and attention to them, is praised, as ofien as her name is mentioned, and follow- ed, whithersoever &he moveth, with their tears and with their blessings ? There is nut a greater charm in any character, than such a condescension. A woman, thus forgetting all her dis- tinctions, to sympathize with the unfortunate, must cap- tivate every man, who has either a single grain of piety or understanding. Even the plainest face would be for- gotten in such real and unaffected goodness. The manner of Louisa finishes her character. It is a beautiful bordering to all her graces and her virtues. It is impossible for me to define (what I mean by) man- ner ; yet no one can be half an hour in the company of ihis lady, without feeling its astonishing effects. Though she frequently says nothing, but what might have drop- ped from any other person, yet in her it becomes so ve- ry interesting, as to command attention, and even to de- light. She embellishes, in a wonderful manner, a look, a gesture, an attitude — nay even silence itself. She confers a grace on the most common civility. She heigh- tens every favour by the mode of doing it, and she o- bliges, almost, by refusal. The best definition I can give of this quality must be imperfect. I should call it, however, a quick discern- ment of what is graceful, directed by an exquisite sen- sibility, and saying in an instant, to airs, gestures, fea- iih this inscription, " sacred to the poor." Into this, she puts, every night, before she sleeps, something to be a fund for merit and distress. She enriches it with the savings she has made, by retrenching some expen- sive articles of dress or pleasure. It is filled with mo- ney, that others would have spent on plays, concerts or assemblies ; and I will venture to say, that she has in- finitely sweeter music in her heart, and a more innocent, sparkling brilliance in her eyes, than any of the most admired frequenters of those gay amusements. LETTER LXXX. FRO INI Louisa's strict confinement and systematic life you would conclude, perhaps, that she had almost contracted a disrelish for books. But, indeed, it is far otherwise ; her studies are her pleasure ; they are so judiciously mixed with entertainment, and so interwo- ven, as it were, with the common casual occurrences of the day, that she considers them more as anamusem??it y than a business. Her private moments, when she is left to her own choice, are not unfrequently beguiled with the very same employments, which had engrossed the other parts of the day. The garden is the scene, where she indulges all the luxury ol her taste ; and her rambles into it are as fre- quent, as the great variety of her avocations will per- mit. Oneday, I found her in this retirement. The place WjMrrery happily fancied. Large clumps of trees^ 140 LETTLR9 TO A YOUNG LADY. on both sides, with their intervening foliage, had ren- dered it impervious to any human eye. Nature had wantoned with particular luxuriance. A clear trans- parent spring murmured through the valley. And it was fenced, on both sides, with a very lofty mound, cast up as on purpose, and planted with perennial shrubs. A shady arbor in the middle, catching through a beauti- ful vista, the spire of the village church, invited to med- itation and to repose. She was reclined here rather in a pensive attitude, reading Burke's Essays on the Beauti- ful and sublime ; and to me she appeared, I must con- fess, more enchanting, more beautiful and more sublime % than the admired work of that well known and admired author. On another occasion, her mother being much indis- posed, she had stolen from the domestic circle, to in- dulge, at leisure, a solitary grief. The book she held in her hand was Lord Lyttleton's Dialogues of the Dead. The soft melancholy visible in her countenance, the very apparent agitation of her spirits, and the grief, bursting through her animated eyes, formed a very in- teresting whole ; whilst her observations on a future life, on the comfort she derived from the hope of con- versing with her friends after death ; on the probable nature and happiness of heaven, and the permanency of virtuous friendship and affection, would not have dis- graced any divine or philosopher of the age. A third time of her elopement, she was reading the only novel, which she permits herself to read, that of Sir Charles Grandison. Tears, like an April shower, tinged with the sun, were mingled with her joy. The book was opened where the once amiable Har- riot Byron is now Lady Grandison ; where the painful suspense of her virtues, though premature, attachment*, is crowned by an eternal union with its object, and she is kneeling to her ever venerable grandmother, to im- plore a blessing. " Heavens !" (said she) " what an exquisite and inimitable painter was Richardson ! How qver whelmed with admiration, esteem and self anaihk LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 141 iation do I, always, feel myself, when I read the des- cription of his Harriot Byron. So much piety, yet so much cheerfulness ; such filial duty, tenderness, affec- tion, 1 so exquisite a sensibility ; so deep and glowing a passion, conducted with so much delicacy ; such beau- ty of person, lost in so much greater sweetness of tem- per, and such a winning candor and openness of heart complete my idea of every thing that is noble and amiar ble in woman. I never read this writer without weeping. He had' an amazing talent for the pathetic and descriptive. He opens all the sluices of tenderness, and tears flow down our cheeks like a river. And (what is most of all) I never open his book, without feeling my sentiments ele- vated and sublimed, and my heart more alive to all the suggestions of piety and virtue. If all novels had been written on such a plan, they would,"doubtless, have been very excellent vehicles of wisdom and goodness." The last time I broke in upon Louisa's retirement,, she was surrounded with authors. She seemed bent up-, on indulging her elegant taste, in all its extravagance. Addison's papers on the Pleasures of Imagination ; several pieces of Miss Seward : Mason's English Gar. den; Ariosto, with Hool's Translation, and Webb's inq-uiry into the beauties of Painting, together with a collection of Poems lay, in promiscuous dignitv, beside her. She has accustomed herself to enter into a sort of common place book, passages, which she thinks particu- larly striking. I am happy in being able to give you a little specimen of her choice, ivr she indulged me with a sight of the valuable manuscript. The first, poetical rose she had plucked, was from the Italian poet, Ariosto. It was his beautiful picture of Alcina. the enchantress. I will transcribe a few of the lines, and the translation, though a modest bluslv tinged her cheeks, whilst I read the description. ])i persona era tanto ben formata, Quanto me finger san pittori iodustri, ]42 1. UTTERS TO \ YOUNG LADY. Con bionda chioma lunga ed anodata ; Oron non c, che piu risplcnda e lastri. Spargeasi per la guancia delicata Misto color di rose, e di ligustri. Her matchles* person every charm combined Fatti'd in th' idea of a painter's mind. Bound iq a knot behind her ringlets roll'd Down her fair neck, and shown like waving gold ; Her blooming cheeks the blendid tints disclose Oi liilies, damask'd with the blushing rose, &c. &c. From Lord Lvttleton's monody on his lady, she had copied the following pathetic verses. Whilst I read them, she appeared amazingly affected. O shades of Hagley, where is now your boast ? Your bright inhabitant is lost j You she preferr'd to all the gay resorts, Where female vanity might wish to shine. The pomp of cities and the pride of court* : Her modest beauties shtmn'd tile public eye ; To your sequestered dales, And flow'r embroider' d vales, From an adminng world she chose to fly. With nature there retir'd and nature's Go J, The silent paths of wisdom trod, "And banish'd ev'rv passion from her breast, But those, the gentlest and the best, Whose holy flames, with energy divine, The virtuous heart enliven and improve, The conjugal and maternal love. Sweet babes, who, like the little, playful fawns, Were wont to trip along those verdant lawns, By your delighted mother's side, Who now your infant steps shall guide ? Ah ! where is now the hand, whose tender care To ev'ry virtue would have form'd your youth, LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 143 And strew'd with flow'rs the thorny ways of truth, O loss beyond repair ! O wretched father left alone To weep their dire misfortune and thy own ! How shall thy weaken'd mind, oppressed with woe, And drooping oe'r thy Lucy's grave Perform the duties, that you doubly owe ! Now she, alas ! is gone From folly and from vice, their helpless age to save ? Mrs. Carter's celebrated Ode to Wisdom always makes one thrill with a melancholy pleasure, and it had furnished Louisa with these beautiful stanzas : Thy breach, inspires the poet's song The patriots free, unbiass'd tongue The hero's genrous strife ; Thine are retirement's silent joys, And all the sweet, endearing ties Of still, domestic life. No more to fabled names confin'd To thee, supreme, all perfect mind, My thoughts direct th^ir flight : Wisdom's thy gift, and all her force From thee deriv'd unchanging source Of intellectual light. O send here sure, her steady ray To regulate my doubtful way- Through life's perplexing road ; The mists of error to controul, And, through its gloom, direct my soul To happiness and good. Beneath her clear, discerning eye The visionary shadow's fly Of folly's painted show ; She sees through ev'ry fair disguise, That all, but virtue's solid joys Is vanity and woe. 144 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Miss Seward's poetical address to Mr. Wright, en- gaged in taking her father's picture, had supplied her with these four most interesting and pathetic lines : O when his* urn shall drink my falling tears, Thy t faithful tints shall shed a soft relief, Glow, with mild lustre o'er my darken'd years, And gild the gathering shades of filial grief. The ever graceful and elegant Fontaine, so justly esteemed the Corregio of poetry, had supplied her with the fables of Le Chene et le Rouseau, La Fille ; and from the theatre Surf Education of Comtesse le Genlis, she had stolen the fragrant rose of Salency. From a judicious arrangement of these separate sweets, she had composed a very elegant bouquet which cast a delicious fragranee on her character and virtues* And now, tell me, what think you of Louisa ? If she was married to the first sovereign in Europe, would she not be the richest jewel in his crown I LETTER LXXXI. I WILL now give you another picture. It is that of a young lady, whom I have lately had the honor of seeing, just arrived from a boarding school. It is Lady Harriet . But I will not undertake to say, that the features will please you. They are certain- ly different from those of Louisa. She was almost incessantly practising little arts, and adjusting all her airs and graces to engage admiration. "When she spoke, she minced her syllables, and when she looked, she threw an unnatural vivacity into her eyes. She is a fine, blooming girl ; and if she had not taken such uncommon pains to please, must necessarily have charmed every beholder. How long will it be before people learn, that nothing * Her Father's f Wright's LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 145 engages so much, a3 the ease of nature ? An artless simplicity is the highest charm. Whatever studies ad- miration, raises disgust. System and constraint destroy ease. And ease is the parent of all the graces. It is the business of education to lop off some little luxuriant boughs from the tree of nature, but not to con- strain it, that it cannot vegetate, or give to every branch an unnatural direction. I should prefer the plain, hon- est awkwardness of a mere country girl, to overacted refinement. Though Lady Harriet is not yet four- teen years old, she has more than the airs and forward ness of a woman. Who can have taught this girl, that roses are expected to open all at once and not by de- grees ? Timidity and diffidence are the most attracting qual- ifies of a girl ; a countenance always modest, and un- designing ; a tongue often silent, and cars always at- tentive. Boarding schools, it should seem, may be compared to hot beds. They bring fruits and flowers quickly to their growth. But they have not their proper essence, healthiness, or flavour. The girlish state is so pleasing, in itself, that we wish not to see it exchanged, before its time, for the caution, the artifices, or the subtil policy of age. It is desirable, that a girl should retain, as long a* possible, the innocent dress, manners, habit and senti- ments of childhood. She will never be more captiva- ting, when she is a woman. Natural untortured ring- lets, sashes, frocks, &c. are superior to all the laboured trappings of fashion. Nature has given to every age as well as to every season of the year, its appropriate charms. ^We should be greatly disappointed, if the soft breezed and the pleasing, new born scenery of the spring were impatient to dissolve into- the sultry heats of summer. A forward girl always alarms me. Indelicacy, im- prudence and improper connexions start up to my view. N 14-6 LETTERS TO A YOUNtt LADY. I tremble for her friends, and see her history, gradually imfnlding into indiscretion. Chilclrc n arc apt enough, of themselves to aspire into \70manhood. A governess should check this spirit, and nip it in the bud. A long nonage, if I may so call it, is lavourable to your sex. During this period', a girl is acquiring some solid improvement. When she fan- cies herself a woman, company, pleasures and conversa- tion with the other sex, unhinge her mind, and bid un- quiet thoughts take possession of her fancy. I could discover from the conversation of Lady Har- riet, that she was deeply read in novels and romances. Her expressions were beyond nature, turgid and over- atrained, where she only wished to convey a common idea. A volume would not be sufficient to expose the dan- gers of these books. They lead young people into an enchanted country, and open to their view an imagina- ble world, fuli of inviolable friendships, attachments, ec- stacies, accomplishments, prodigies and such visionary joys, as never will be realized in the coarseness of com- mon life. The romantic turn, they create, -indisposes for every thing that is rational or substantial. They corrupt all principle. Fortitude they unnerve* and sub- stitute, in its place, a sickly sensibility, that cannot rel- ish common blessings or common things ; that is con- tinually wounded with its own fancies, and even "ready to expire of a rose, in aromatic pain/' Their sentiment is but a fine spun word for indelicate emotions. Their sympathy and friendship are often but a specious, flimsy covering for criminal attachments. Such false, over- strained ideas have led many a poor gir! to ruin. Un- der "the notion of superior refinement, similarity of souls and involuntary friendship, she has gradually bern se- duced from the paths of virtue, to the commission of the grossest crimes. A fine sptcfeftlitl idea has been used to palliate the dreadful action. St ntiment has tri- umphed over the vulgar shick^es of co*s< Lnce. and 0* -everv sockJ *n:l moral obligation. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LAHV. I 17 Plays, operas, m.isq leru les and all the other fashion- able pleasures, hdvc not half so much dinger to yourtg people, as the reading of these books. With them, thj most delicate girl can enteruin herself in private, with- out any censure ; and the poison operates m^re forcibly, becaase unperceived. The most profligate villam; that was bent on tne infernal purpo.se of seducing a woman, could not wish a symptom; more favourable to bis pur- pose, thran an iaKi^inatijn, inu.tmed with die rlupaodisa of novels. Lady If betrayed great pride, in disa- vowing any acquaintance with some young ladies, at the same school, because their parents were not equal to hers in point of fortune. She had formed, poor girl, wrong notions of importance ; and they had not, it should seem, b.een properly corrected. Under the idea of teaching young people what is due tQ, their rank, boarding schools encourage pride by a si/s~ tern. Whoever consults the happiness of a daughter, should, as systematically , endeavour to propogate hu- mility. Alas ! my dear girl, what have any of us to boast of? What dignity is there in an heap of money, unless it be devoted to charitable actions ? To be carried in state, to eat deliriously, or to sleep on down, may have something in ir, to weak mortals^ that elevates and charms ; but to an inhabitant of heaven, or to superior spirits, must be as frivolous, as the toils or little play things of children appear to us. What supreme importance does it give to a rational creature, that the silk worm has spun for her a robe of elegance, or that the milliner has bespangled her with ornaments ? These ornaments, alas ! cover only a " poor worm," a sinner ! a creature, subject to innume- rable infirmities and sorrows ! and after all, the peacock has more gaudy plumage, and flowers of the field arc more beautifully decked ! Where again is the dignity of high birth, unless it leads to dignified conduct ? And what are all these dis- J 48 J.LTTEKS TO A YOUNG LADY. tincrions to a creature, that, any instant, may be strip- ped ol every tiling ; that may die any hour ? and must be called to a very were account, if they have not been religiously improved ? \ It" you are ever disposed to be proud, look forward to ihe moment, which will bury, along with you in the dust, titles, honors, riches, beauty, friends, connexions - — to the moment, when the world will be shrivelled in- to atoms — when you must stand, a naked and unprotect- ed criminal, before 'the supreme Majesty of heaven ; ?nd endeavored acquire that universal love, which, for the sake of doing a religious action, is content to " be- come the 6e rvant of all." This love will be a sovereign balsam of the soul. It will heal a thousand disorders, ax\<\ prevent as many more. The author of all wisdom and greatness was u meek rrid lowly in heart." He, who could have commanded kingdoms, inhabited a cottage. Humility is the di\tin- guishing badge of his religion. And, whenever you are his real disciple, you will not exalt yourself above the ijitanestcreature,butunder an accumulation of all worldly distinctions, will smite upon your breast with the publi- can, and say, 4 God be merciful -to m'e a sinner.' Happiness and pride are absolutely incompatible. — Con'inual vexations* fayivifiil slights and injuries and prove cations wound the self- sufficient mind. Pride is contrary to every thing, xhwt p 'cases in a .wo- ittan. It hr»s no softness, no, benignity, no ease. The jipostle has Justly called u a meek and quiet spirit, an imament" It is the robe, in which a woman should always be dressed, who wishes to secure a permanent esteem. LETTER LXXXII. MY DEAR LUCY, I GAVE you a description of the true delicacy of Louisa. I have lately seen it over-acted by aaother person, in such a manner, as to disgust me beyond ex- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 119 pression. The virtues and graces have all their limits. It pushed further, they degt iierate into the veryojpo- site defects. The lady, who hurt my ftelings, had not considered this maxim. Or the had not tas'e and sense enough to apply it. Her delicacy was absolute p?udery and affectation. True delicacy is nothing more, than the refinement fcf modestij. It is the sensitive plant of woman, which gives the quickest notice of approaching danger, and trembles at the bare apprehension of any thing, which can injure her honor, her safety* or repose. So amiable in itself, one cannot wonder, that every female wishes to be thought in possession of it. But it is a shy and timid plant, and least displays itself, where it is known to exist in the highest cultivation. .Some women are so over- laden with this virtue, as. to be almost insufferable in society ; so outrageous!'/ \L:- tuous, that they render all their purity and principles suspected. This trer.i >!inj modest female, in a company which I had lately the honor of making on:*, on hearing that a number of gentlemen were coming to drink tea, seemed very much alarmed, and pretended to make an apology for retiring. Now this was nothing less than downright hypocrisy. If it had been possible to look into her heart', probably* at the very moment, it was thrilling with joy, for the agreeable information* Every woman in the world is fund of our society, unless she has. formed some particular attachment, and wishes to indulge the greater luxury of solitary rei lection. It is a natural and an innocent pleasure, and it would be the falsest delicacy to" disown it. ways cu,p ct these prudes. We fancy, that their mo- desty diminishes in piivate, in proportion, as it appeals to dilate and to magnify itself, before tl;« public in* spection Upon hearing, again, that a young lady had bee:.>. smart and lively with a gentleman of her acquaintance^ she blessed her Qtur* } and wondered, how ipeh fat war & N2 150 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LART. ness escaped reprobation / Now this girl acted from na- ture. The gentleman was agreeabta. She felt the plea- sure. She dared to express it. She wished to enter- tain him, and she did right. The other blamed her from envy or from affectation. These over-nice and over-virtuous people would do well to consider, that an odious restraint would banish all the sweets of an intercourse betwixt the sexes, and fix a moping and a dismal gloom on the face of the cre- ation. It is no breach of true delicacy to comply with the innocent dictates of nature. A woman may, very modestly, avow a virtuous attachment. She may ex-. press an approbation of particular men, and do justice to their merit. She may shew a fondness for being in their company. She may chat, in a sociable and an easy manner with them ; nay she may think of being a wife or a mother, without injuring the finest tints of this laudable quality. Providence* intended her for such circumstances and connexions, and they need not a blush. That piety is most solid, which aJects no gloomy ri- gours, or singularities ; which makes no noise, and courts no observation. It is so with delicacy. That is. always the most exquisite, which is least ostentatious. An unstudied openness and simplicity of manners are the strongest symptoms of a guiltless heart, and a vir- tuous intention. Those young people are generally, the most amiable, that are most undisguised. Having no- thing to conceal, they have studied no art. They may, sometimes, give way to little sallies, which the rigid would condemn ; but they are sallies of good humor y wind generosity forgives them. Another instance, in which this lady offended me, and vet from an over desire of pleasing, was by assuming a mistaken dignity. In fact, true dignity, in any person, consists in the virtues ; humility, condescension, can- dor ; and is only supported by great qualities, or by a train of amiable actions. But in a woman's manner, if stit considered only what is graceful, there should aV« LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 151 ways be more of the lovely, than the great ; of the en- gaging, than the magnificent or sublime. Her authori- ty should be lost in sweetness ; the dar,zling, in the mild. Women were not formed to diwusby their majestv, but to sooth us by their graces. We may be struck with a Cleopatra, but we love an Antiope. A Catharine may astonish us, but we are charmed with a ■ ■■ , C- e. LETTER LXXXIII. THE tour of affectation is unbounded. I have just returned from a circle of ladies, who have been enter- taining me with a very long harangue, on (what they choose to call) fine feelings. This is quite a fashiona- ble subject. The truth, is, sensibility is considered as a matter of refinement, and a proof of being raised above the vulgar ; and many young people, I do believe, would be more hurt by any reflection on their sensibility, than if you suspected their piety and virtue. This rage for the compliment of fine feelings seems to have originated in the writings of Sterne. 'His very eccentric talents were always contriving some fictitious tale of woe, and bidding the tear to drop ; the general circulation of his works, and the novels which have since sprung up in the hot-bed of France,, and of our own im- aginations, have led young people lo fancy every grace and almost every virtue, comprised under this specious and comprehensive name. Nothing certainly can be more nauseous and disgust- ing, than an affected sensibility, as nothing is more charming than the pare and genuine. But, with all this noise about it, I am far from knowing whether there is much of the real in the world. They, who would be thought to have it in perfection, are only in possession of the artificial. For is it sensibility to prefer the tur- bid pleasures of midnight to opening buds and blos- aoms ; to the lessons, which the Creator gives in every rERS TO a rOVNG LADY. vegetable and everv insect ; to undisturbed contempla- tion ; to the raptures of devotion, or all the fair and en- chanting landscapes of creation ; to the sentiment, the taste and knowledge, that a-e displayed in the works of the most learned and ingenious men, or the entertain- ment and delight amd profit, we might rective from the volume of revelation ? Is it sensibility to form a sacred connexion with one person, and encourage a -criminal attachment to another ? Is it sensibility to leave tire charms, the cries, the wants and tender pleadings of an infant offspring, for the vain and perishable splendor of a ball, a birth- night, or a levee ? Every thir.king person must be disgusted with such a kind of sensibility. Rigid criticism would call it by a very harsh name, and, society has reason to reprobate its tendency. Yet Sterne's sensibility led to many of those evils ; ani who knows not, that a thousand ladies, who vaunt fine feelings, are dupes to this ridiculous il- lusion ? True feeling is of a very different complexion. Like genius, it must come from heaven ; indeed it is a part of genius ; a*nd, like that, is very rare. It depends considerably on temperament and organization : is much heightened by particular advantages of education, society, friends, reading, observation and reflection ; and will generally be quickest in the most elevated minis. But, even when.it is most genuine and poig- nant, it will never be a guide, safely to be trusted till it is governed by reason, checked by discretion, and moulded by that religion, which requires us to devote every instinct we have, to the glory of God, and to the happiness of all our fellow creatures, and of our- selves. Thus consecrated, it is a source of the purest and the richest blessings. It is the parent of an earnest devo- tion to him, who gave it, and of a thousand blessings to mankind. It appropriates all the sorrows of its breth- ren ! it feels in every woe, " rejoices with them, that do rejoice, and weeps with them that weep j" and dou- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 15'} bly alive to all the exercises of piety, in blossoms, in flowers, in minerals, in vegetables, in stars, in planets, in the azure vault of heaven, in thunders, in storms, in earthquakes, in volcanos, in the revolutions of empire, and destruction of cities, feels most exquisitely, adores and loves and venerates the wisdom, the power, the goodness and wonders of an all-present, and all- dispos- ing God." It is with this, as with every other grace and virtue. There is a false and a true. The false is lond and noi- sy, much addicted to egotism, and obtrudes itself on public observation in order to gratify its own conceit and vanity ; the other, modest, timid, retired, shrinks into itself; feels but says nothing of its feelings ; suf- fers, but conceals its sufferings ; rejoices, but does not vaunt its joy, and is too. delicate in its nature, and too much interested to solicit pity, or to court approbation. The one is an humble fire-work, which cracks and spark- las ; the other is that lightning, which, in an instant, e- lectrifies and shocks ; this is the offspring of heaven ! that, the artificial creature of the world. I will conclude this letter with a contrast taken from life. Flavia lies in bed till noon ; as soon as she rises, sh« opens a novel, or a play-book ; weeps profusely at imaginary distress, sips strong tea, till she is almost in hysterics ; concludes, that sensibility is all her own, and is perpetually complaining how her feelings are shocked with such a room, or such a prospect, the coarseness of this character, and of that conversation, and how the sight of a poor beggaivgipes her the vapors. Emily never says a word attout her feelings, rises with the dawn, endeavours to fortify her body with air and exercise, and her mind with devotion ; is oftner seen with her bible, than any other IJook ; seems pleas- ed with every person and every object about her, and puts on a cheerful smile, when her bosom is really throbbing with pain, for the distresses of her fellow creatures. I was lately in her company, when a case of very 1J4 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. singular distress happened to be related, of a lady re- duced, from the height of afll u.nce, to a poverty which she attempted to conceal. Shs uttered not a syllabi':, but, in a little while, quitted the room, aud returned, after a considerable interval, with eyes, that she had vainly bidden not to betray her emotions. The next circumstance I heard, was, that she had sent a 53l bank note without any signature, to the relief of the fair suf- ferer. The secret was discovered, contrary to the strictest injunctions, by the imprudence of the bearer. She has, since, adopted one of the daughters, to be ed- ucated for htr own. Tell me now, my Lucy, which of these is. the true and the productive sensibility ? LETTER LXXX1V. I WILL give you candidly, at your request, my o- pinion of some celebrated writers. If you differ from rne on reading them, it may produce* a collision of sen- timents, which will be favorable to our mutual improve- ment. At any rate, it will serve to exercise your own judgment and discrimination. Voltaire 13 a graceful, but a superficial writer. He had more taste than genius, and more liveliness than authenticity. Volatile in his researches, impatient'of investigation and hast}' in his decisions, you can scarce- ly rely on the truth or authority of any facts, he relates. If I must recommend any of his works, it should be his Henri ad c* liut I do not^sfo you to cultivate any clo^e acquaintance with so erroneous, and seductive an author. Kousseau is very fanciful, but very engaging. His whims are all tl• ■ ■ • ptftoyet ; and blessing . himself so < (ministered tk» Others, The whole village is in mourning; All the peasants, I am told., appear as sheep without a sher> herd. This good man was well acquainted with everv per- son in his parish. He thought it his duty, to visit all his hearer?, to investigate their spiritual, as well as tem- poral wants, and to remove the former, whilst he exten- ded a liberal supply to the latter. The death of such a person is more than the loss of the nearest relatives. A good clergyman, in the coiflt- try, unites, in his own person, all the tender connexions. IT'.- is a father, brother, guardian, all in one. Dr. , was not only revered, as a minister, but, in every fami- ly, welcomed, as a bosom friend. 'A religious pastor, indeed, never fully knows the comforts of his office, till he is thus unite d to his people, u till he knows his sheep, and the)- follow him." In such an intimacy, hearts expand ; many excellent and seasonal.de advices may be given which the solem- nity of the pulpit would not admit ; little griefs are un- bosomed ; little perplexities are removed, and affection springs up by the side of duty. i am going to make a visit to this worthy clergyman, and will give you the earliest intelligence of the state in which I find him. LETTER XCV. THE apprehension concerning Br. were but too well founded. He is I do btlieve, in the last stage of life. Death is on the point of closing his eyes, * The father of Louisa. 172 LETTERS Td A YOUNG LADY. and opening for him the just reward of all his labours and his zeal. 1 have been with him almost night and day, ever since I had the pleasure of writing to you, and have re- ceived a strenger lesson, than ever, of the vanity of all earthly things, and the supreme dignity of virtue. These solemn sctnes wonderfully improve the heart. They strip ambition of its plumage. The world appears a phantom ! honours and promotions all a dream ! Though I have been much affected, yet I have been comforted, in an equal degree, by his cheerful piety, and edifying conversation. His faith and resignation rise superior to his pains. They are literally big with immortality ; and he longs to be dissolved and to be with Christ. Unwcarh d and exemplary as he has always been m the discharge of his pastoral duties, he is continually la- ^knting his want of zeal, vigilance and exertion. The duties of the ministry are, I do believe, beyond human ability : u Who said St. Paul, is sufficient for these things V 9 But when I hear the declarations of this ex- lent man, and compare, as it is natural, his example With my own, I cannot but be seriously alarmed, and sketch out nothing for my own last moments, but re- morse atsd fears. My good friend and his lady have taken their last leave. It would have touched any heart to have seen this interview. I cannot do it justice by words. The pencil of a Raphael could not fully represent it. It was all heart and soul. Silent looks and manner were the principal language, and they spoke indeed ! Such a wo- man's breast panting with grief, upon such an occasion, nses above the powers of description. M O ! (says the expiring christian, raising his languid eyes and endeavouring to use a tongue, which death had almost palsied) be as you have been, the comforters of my people (for they alas! will feel a transient void) and our friendship,! doubt not, will shortly be renew- ed in another life. Death can onlv for a little time. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 1/3 separate these bodies : Oar real interests, our soulo and happiness must ever be united.' ' Louisa is inconsolable. u r l'ears have been her meat day and night j w and htr grief is the heat k-r, as she is not permitted, from motives of prud nee, to see the last struggles of this excellent man, or receive his bLessipg. u Providence, (says th 1 accomplished girl) has norj but one heavier stroke to inflict, and that is the death oi mv father, or my mother. Indeed a sacwid father he has always been to me in the fullest sense of the word. What has not this good man done, what has he not evey said, to train my useful sentiments to virtue* and direct my steps in the ways of peace ? To him I could disclose every rising fear. To him I could un- bosom the anxious sorrow, that would have lurked at my heart. But why should i complain? Have 1 not still a thousand comforts, spread around .my retiremeu;? Have I not yet two parents left, accomplished, as they are tender, and watchful, as they are good ? It is im- proper to grieve. I will dry these tears. It is the Lord, let him do what seemeth him good. The good Abraham was required to Sacrifice, on the altar, with his own hands, an only son. And I shoukl surely lean* to resign without murmuring, whenever it shall seem* meet to his wisdom and goodness, the nearest friend.'' LETTER XCVI. THE conflict 13 finished. The pangs are over. Dr. i 5 no more. Ke is now I trust a blessed spiri% and knows no longtr pain, or sorrow or apprehension.' From the natural tmderntss and sensibility of his temper you may wonder, that he lived and died unmar- ried. But it is a secret known only to his intimate friends, that he had formed an attachment, in his earl/ years, which being disappointed by the death of the la- dy, the delicacy of his mind never afterwards admitted of another. His partiality was not of the common, hi- giuve kind. It was a deep and permanent impression^ £ 2. 17-t LETTERS TO A YOU No LAB*. Having once fondly loved, he attempted to love no more. As his private fortune was comfortable, and his pre- ferment good, you will conclude, perhaps, that he died very rich. Bat this is not the case. The poor were constantly fed from his table, as well as edified by his counsels. He was a living example of the charity he recommended, and a witness of the truth, " that it is more blessed to give than receive." Though remarkable for his prudence, as well as pas- toral zeal, yet having but a few distant relatives, who were all in very easy circumstances, he has only left to each, an equal legacy of /. iuO ; and the remainder of the /.5O0O, he possessed, is entirely devoted to charita- ble uses. To each of his three servants, he has bequeathed an annual stipend of /.20, on this easy condition, however, that they be never absent when in heahh, from the church or sacrament ; that they always appear neat and de- cent, and that they lay up, from their pittance, one sin- gle six pence on the first day of every week, to be ex- pended in charity. The residue of his fortune is to be employed, partly in establishing a fund for the distribu- tion of religious books and tracts, amongst the poor and ,goorant of his parish, at the discretion of the minister ; and partly, for the clothing and educating a specific number of boys and girls in a school, which he had founded, and very principally supported, in his life- time. My friend and I are joint executors. To him he ha9 demised a considerable part of his excellent library ; to me a number of books, which are at once a monument of his taste and frien lship ; to Mrs. , all the ele- gant furniture of his drawing-room, and to his sweet, and as he styles her, ever dear Louisa, his pictures, sta- tues, busts and. petrefactions, beside a number of devo- tional authors, gilt and finished with an elegance and beauty, which express the opinion he had justly con : eeived of her cultivated mind. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 175 When the poor girl was informed of this legacy, she burst into a flood of tears, nor could all the tender of- fices of her friends console her. u How insupportable, (said she) is this man's generosity ! with what a cruel kindness dots he haunt me after death ! Had it not been for this perhaps, I should more easily have learned the hard lesson of resignation. But this tenderness renews my grief, and tears open afresh the wounds, which I have been summoning all my fortitude to close. But why must must 1 not see this crood man on his death- bed, to testify, for the last time-, the warmth of my gra- titude, and the sincerity of my esteem ? ' M But tell me, ye, who were admitted to his pres- ence, what said he of me, in his latest moments ? Did he, then, at all recollect his Louisa ? Did he even glance at so humble a name ? Did he send me one precious word of advice ? Did he conjure me never to forget his directions ? Did he bid me to be virtuous, did he bid me to be happy ? Yes, blessed spirit, I will remember thy example ; I will treasure up thy counsels. Thy instructions shall never fade. Thy memory shall be immortal." And, nou T , what is your opinion of Louisa ? What think you of such a clergyman ? What are dignities, compared with such virtues ? What are kingdoms, con- trasted with such joys ; Should not history enbalm hii relics, and should not gratitude pour over his undying memory, an undying perfume ? LETTER XCVII. I REJOICE to hear that you have so great a taste for paintings. You will find it an inexhaustible source of pleasure and improvement. For, H Each pleasing art lends softness to our minds, 41 And with our studies, are our lives renVd." i will give you a very handsome eulogy on this art, in LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. the W< g^at writer, Quintilian. ct Picture, (says ■ and uniform a Idress, yet penetrates so deep- ly ir.to our inmost affections, that it seems often to ex- ceed even the powers of eloquence. Its effects, indeed, metimes amazing. It is said, that Alexander trembled and grew pah-, on seeing a picture of Pah me- des, betrayed to death by his friends ; it bringing to his mind a slinging remembrance of his treatment of Aristonicus. Portia could bear, with an unshaken con- stancy, her last separation from Brutus ; but when she saw, some hours after, a picture of die parting of Hec- tor an 1 Andromache, she bur-it into a fluod of tears. — Full as seemed her sorrow, the painter suggested hew ideas of grief|Or impressed more strongly her own." Your question concerning the superiority of the an- rients or moderns in this particular, is very easily ans- wered. In most, if not ail the fine arts, indeed, the for- mer, according to my apprehension, are absolutely unri- vailed. By the ancients, I no:u mean, particularly the Gre< ks. Whether it was Owing to the particular nature and Ijeedom of their government — to the superior honors and encouragement th.it were lavished on genius and the arts in this more early period of society — whether to any particular superiority of organization in the na- tives of thi » country — whether to its beautiful scenery or the allegorical nature of a religion, which so much called painting, poetry, and sculp.ure into exercise— or whether we may T not ascribe it to an h.-.ppy combination of all these separate causes, it is certain, that their taste and imagination were exquisite beyond those of any other people, and produced a degree of excellence in their artists, that we cannot find in any other age or country of the world. Raphael, whom all Europe has so much praised, ex- celled only, as he formed himself upon the model of the Greeks. The Italians, (observes an able judge,) may excel in colouring ; but composi-ion, drawing, the art of grouping, attitude, movement, expression, contrast, LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 1 77 drapery, character and grace — all these, this great gen- ius confessedly borrowed from the ancient statues and bas-reliefs. Palladio is the first of architects, Michael Angelo, Fiammingo, Algardi, the most celebra'ed sculptors, on- ly for the same reason ; they studied the Greeks. Yet Angelo was the boldest genius that Italy ever had. M It was he, who conceived the idea of placing the pantheon in the air, and constructed the dome of St. Peter's on the same dimensions." Nor in letters were the Greeks less the model of per- fection. To emulate their best writers has been the ambition of every succeeding age. And excellence has been attained only in proportion to the successfulness of this imitation. The first and most complete poem in the world is Grecian — the Iliad of Homer. It unites all the separ- ate, astonishing excellencies of this most difficult spe- cies of composition ; the majestic, the terrible, the pa- thetic and the sublime. Naturalists, philosophers, pain- ters, poets, orators, metaphysicians have all, in various methods, dug from this mine, and still left it full of in- exhaustible treasures. It is proverbially known how much the great Roman orator studied Homer, and in- deed how much he has been praised by the whole world. I will give you a few testimonies in his favor. The first critic, that ever existed, is Longinus, who wrote a treatise on the Sublime ! This is his opinion of 4ke Iliad ? 41 Those onlv, who have sublime and solid thoughts, can make elevated discourses, and, in this part, Homer chiefly excels, whose thoughts are all sublime, as may be seen in the description of the goddess, Discord, who has, says he, her head in the skies, and her feet upon earth ; for it may be said, that that grandeur which he gives her, is less the measure of discord, than of the ca- pacity and elevation of Homer's genius. Treatise on the Sublime* 178 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Again in another place : " To Homer, that i him, who had received the applauses of the whole world." And, in a third passage, mentioning the number of men, who had endeavoured to imitate Homer, he ob* serves : u Plato, however, is he, who has imitated him most, for he has drawn from this poet, as from a living spring, from which he has turned an infinite number of rivu- lets." * Another excellent judge is Horace, who bea?s to this prince of poets, this honorable testimony, that he taught philosophy better than many, who were philoso- phers by profession, A third critic of no inconsiberable talents has these' lints in his favor : On diroit que pour plaire instruit psr la nature Homere ait a Venus derobe" sa ctinture ; Son livre est d'agremens un fertile tresor, Tout ce q u'il a touche se convertit enor. Pope's opinion of him it is not nece^ary to recite ; and the Jerusalem Delivered of a great author, is, from beginning to end, a tacit comment on, for it is an at- tempt to imitate, his greatness. Let me not omit the compliment of Dante, for it is worth recording : Q;egTi e Omero poeta soyrano Signor dell' altissumo canto Che sovra gli altri, come Aquila, vola. The best writers of the Augustan age of Rome form- ed themselves considerably on Grecian model*. '1 he perfect authors in England, France and Italy ; Addison, Pope, Racine, Botieau, Tasso and Metas- tatic, took the same method to arrive at perfection ; and one migUt challenge the whole vvoild to produce any LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 179 other poem, like the Iliad ; an orator, equal to Demos- thenes ; such a finished tragedy as the Oedipus of So- phocles ; any figure in marble, like the Belvedere Apol- lo ; such fine and light drapery, as that of the Flora, or a female beautv as perfect as the Venus of Medici. The great Montesquieu was, for some time, in Italv r and, as you may suppose, no superficial observer. This was his decision concerning the Greeks. " Taste and the arts have been carried by them to such an height,' that to think to surpass, would be always not to know them.' 7 I have been thus diffuse on a subject, that may ap- pear, but ?9, by no means, foreign to your improve- ment, or above your comprehension, merely that you might form just ideas in your favourite art ; that you might know why we say so much of classic or ancient writers ; and why every person should emulate their manner, who wishes, even by a single sentence, to please. I will close this letter with adding my oivn grateful tri- bute to the venerable shade of a bard, that so much delighted my early years, and yet fills me with a pleas- ing enthusiasm, every time I peruse him. I will use the words of a French writer. Recois Teloge pur, Thommage merite ; Je le dois a ton nom, comme a la verite. Art de la Guerre. Receive this pure spplause, this homage due To thy great name, because 1 know 'tis true* LETTER XCVIII. THE Italians excel in some of the fine arts. In music, perhaps, they may justly claim a decisive supe- riority. Of colouring they are great masters. Amongst many other distinguished painters, they boast a Correg- gin. No one could do more honor 10 any nation. He is the very pupil of nature, and lias wonderfully united 180 LITTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. elegance and ease. If Raphael shines in the maji he has all the soft and amiable graces. In landscape painting, Italy is unrivalled. Those of Claude Lorrain, are superior to any other master's. Perhaps one reason is, the beauty of the scenes, from which they are taken. Viewed collectively, there is not, I should conceive, a more delightful and enchant- ing country. It seems to mingle all the soft and mild- er beauties of climate, with the magnificent and tre- mendous ; gentle hills, rich vallies, fruitful extensive vineyards, with craggy, rugged precipices, with the portentuous aspect and caverns of jfctna ; the bay of Naples, with the formidable grandeur and thunder of Vesuvio. Noplace has been the scene of so many memorable events or given birth to such a number of distinguish- ed men. Tuscany produced Dante, Petrarch, and Mi- chael Angelo : Livy was born at Padua ; Titian at Ve- nice, and Ariosto at Ferrara. Urbino 13 justly proud of Raphael, and Parma of Correggio. Rome claims Tacitus and Lucretius ; Arpinum, Cicero, and Venu- sium, Horace. If my leisure and opportunities had been equal to my wishes, I should have gloried in traversing this country. Every step would have had a peculiar inter- est, and every scene revived those glowing descriptions of a Virgil or an Horace, that fascinated my earliest years. When a person has been some time in the world, whatever recalls the frit days of life, adminis- ters the sweetest pleasure. It is the picture of inno- cence and tranquility, whilst our maturer age is often a bustle or a storm. In ancient Rome, it was a confessed maxim, that true politeness and taste were derived from the Grecians. And the Italian artists still owe much of their excel- lence to the primitive masters. The literary taste of the Italians is very exceptiona- ble. It is a false sublime, a fictitious glitter, and a bar- ' reu abundance, and has lost the true Attic salt of na- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 181 tare, of truth and simplicity. Hence they are said to prefer the go. hie works of Dante, the absurdities of A- riosto, the extravagances of Marini, and the tinsel pu- erilities of Tasso, to the tender and impassioned de- scriptions of Metastasio. The French seem to think themselves exclusive pro- prietors of every tiling, that goes under the denomina- tion of taste. And, indeed, they are universally es- teemed a polished, easy, graceful and seducing people. Few of their writers, h>wever, hive mu h of the pro- found, or ihat bids fair for duration. Of all people, they seem least to hive studied the class ids* Their style, in general, wants energy and compactness. In many words they communicate hutfeiv ideas, and their imagination is permirted to run wild without hearkening to the so- ber dictates of judgment. Though trees in. blossom arc a beautiful object, yet the solid advantage lies in their fnut. I could except many great names from this, up- parently, invidious censure. One, particularly, I will mention -that is Montesquieu. This man will do them honor with all other nations, and the most distant posterity. His Esprit de Lnix is, indeed, a most aston- ishing performance. It unites the depth, the phlegm and patience of some other countries, with the vivacity of that, in which it sprung. I do not think that England is, bv any means, either from climate, or other, fostering circumstances, the nat- ural soil of the fine arts. The hot bed of riches it is true, has raised a few exotics, in this way to a superior flawr ; and public encouragement called for b many virtuosos from other countries. But, in fact, we arc too much engaged with trade an 1 politics to cultivate, in any extraordinary degree, the finer emotion ;. C ;m- mercial habits, manufactures, and the love of money, wherever they prevail, will always be the grave < f $/>• tue and of ia r te. In point of polite teaming, thi; k .: ;- dom has, long since, according to mv upprehen i on, been at its zenith. The sun of its Augusran age ap- pears to be set. But for profound kaowL .l.j • and g n- Q 182 LLTTERS TO A YOU\ G LADY. ills, donation, peihaps in the known world has been more distinguished, Shakespeare, Milton, Locke, Sir Uaac Newton ! what other country ca » produce such a group? Nor shall we want models cf the most graceful in writing, whilst we can read the works of Addison, many papers in the world, the Letters of Lady Wort- lev Montague, or those of Chesterfield. I do not mean to deny, but that general science is .more cultivated amongst the moderns, than it ever was by the ancients, and, in the present age, more than at any former period whatever. Natural philosophy in all its branches, chemistry, mathematics, history, politics, jurisprudence, and the mechanical arts have arrived to a wonderful degree of perfection, and are daily receiv- ing frcbh accessions of improvement. But I must still as ert, that polite learning seems to have flourished most in the days of Swift, Pope and Addison. What can be the reason ? Is it that being then more new, as having but just emerged from the darkness of the times, it was treated with that superior respect and deference, we ex- tend to a stranger ? Is there a greater dearth of real genius ? That we cannot suppose, if we give ourselves only leisure to consider the many exalted characters, which Britain boasts. The case, I think, is clear, that a most extended commerce has debased our feelings and vitiated our taste ; that the grand, political interests of the nation, as it is now circumstanced, require a most unremitting attention ; that the high road to honours and emoluments chiefly lying through the bar or senate, the greatest talents in the kingdom are turn- ed into these channels. Men rather choose t® wrangle and debate themselves into affluence and titles, than starve on the mere shadowy fame of an elegant produc- tion. Wherever there is hope of patronage, genius springs of course ; and though his present Majesty has always been a liberal encourager of polite knowledge, yet no- thing can effectually counteract the wide, and most un- limited agency of this national situation. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 183 Many writers, in our Augustan age, arrived by their labours merely, not only to considerable affluence, but to high distinctions. They were caressed and honour- ed in the most fashionable circles. To reward and pat- ronize talents, was a glory and a pride. It is very ob- servable, that all the great, literary characters of the prevent times, who were born nearest to the period, which I have described, retain most of this liberal pat~ ionizing spirit. I could, with great truth and feeling mention some names, if situation and peculiar circum- stances would not expose me to Xhe false suspicion of intending to pronounce fulsome panegyrics. But will not the whole world acquit me of partiality, if I glance at such illurtrious names as the A b p of Y — k, the present Lord C 1 r, or the Earl of M s- f d i LETTER XCIX. YOUR knowledge of the Italian language is much superior to my own. The little that I have, was ac- quired merely to read a few productions of their best authors, and be able to form some comparative idea of -their merits or defects. I am far from denying to this people the praise of great genius. But I should suppose, that it is not pro- perly cultivated, and the reason, perhaps, may b*, that, in modern Italy, learning meets but with little encour- agement. The bad taste of the Italians in poetry, is obvious from many instanced. Dante, in their estimation, is superior to a// men ; and Ariosto, whom they consider as much beneath him, they exalt far above Homer him- self. Dante had, doubtless, wonderful abilities. He rises, in many instances, to the sublime ; and, for the times, in which he lived, may justly be considered as a litera- ry prodigy. But his work, on thewhole, is but a gothic roase of various kinds of knowledge strangely heaped 1R4 LETTFRS TO A YOUNG LADY. together without arrangement, design, or perspicuity. To compare him with the author of the Iliad, is to be- tray a toral want of nil the principles of enlightened criticism. Ariosto shines in narrative. He tells a story with gracefulness and ease. Some of I113 descriptions are particularly splendid ; and his Orlando Furioso is a lively, and wonderfully various production. But how frtqutntlv does he fall into ridiculous absurdities, where he entirely loses sight of nature and of truth, forgetting that excellent rule of a judicious critic : Tout doit tendre au bon sens : Bien n'est beau que le vrai, le vrai seul est amiable. Let s nse be ever in your view, Nothing is beautiful^ that is not true ; The true alone is lovely. Tasso's Gerusalemme Liberata has, indisputably, great merit. The subject is grand, and very happily chosen ; the language, elrgant ; the versification, harmonious : but who can say, that it does not abound with false thoughts, with infinite instances of playing upon rvords^ and a piodigious quantity of tinsel, or that it is not, in the main, disfigured with low conceits, and trifling pu- erilities. No Itnlian writer interests so much, or has so nicely developed the human heart, as Metastaaio. He had great advantages by being introduced, at an early peri- od of his life, into the family of the celebrated Gravina, and there learning to explode the false taste of his coun- try : He formed himself on the mcdrl of the ancients. He took Boileau and Horace for his guides, and tew men have succeeded better in painting tender scenes, or leaving a durable impression on the heart. Read his Canzonettes, particularly that which begins with Grazio agi 9 inganni iuoi ; and tell me whether I have formed an improper judgment. LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 135 LETTER C. I HAVE now finished my recommendation of au- thors. I am apprehensive, indeed, of having mention- ed too many. Bat from the whale yosed to the indelicate scoffs of the licentious, but must hive the unreserved esteem and veneration of all the sensible and the good. ft should not, however, be dissembled, (tor it arises from natural principles,) »hat married women are gen- erally more pleasing, than such, as never formed this conn-, xion. Their heart is continually r< fined, softt ned and enlarged by the exercise of all the tender feelings to an offspring, whilst the weighty concerns of their par- ti' ular families raise ihem above l\\\t frivolous insipidi- ty, which, wi*h whatever justice, is the proverbial stig- ma of a single state. A married woman, likewise, has banished that shy reserve, which young ladies tnink themselves, and, in- deed, in some d* gree are obliged to practice, but which, necess try as it may be, conceals many of their loveliest graces. The society, moreover, of a sensible man, gives to a female, a richer fund of ideas, a superior mode of thinking and acting, agreeably tempeis her vivacity with seriousness, and introduces her to many improving ac- q aintances, an 1 entertaining circles, from which the ceremonious coldness of a virgin state, must have kept her, at an unapproachable distance* Be not, however disappointed, if all your merit and amiable n ess do not secure t<> y "» such a connexion, as your principles and judgment can approve. The lives of young nen are ^o widomesticated, and, in- d<. ed, so criminal, that deserving women, in the present age, are far from receiving those attentions and civili- ties, to which, on every principle. of justice and polite- ness, they are certainly entitled. In proportion as the morals of men are depravecj, marriage will always be unfashionable and rare ; and •-here are thousands amongst us, who have neither LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 1 89 knowledge, sense or virtue enough to wish for all that delicacy of friendship, sprightlincss of conversation or ease of manners, which only an accomplished woman can bestow, or for those innocent domestic enjoyments, which communicate the highest favour to, and are the grand and ultimate end of, an intercourse betwixt the sexes. Pleas of inability to support a family, of the expen- siveness of wives, and their propensity to splendor and dissipation, are used, I know, by some to soften their misconduct, and throw a flimsv veil over their crimes. This is not a proper place for reasoning with liber- tines or rakes. Still, from their arguments, however trilling or fallacious, vou may deduce this useful lesson ; that an extravagant turn for finery and show is a great disadvantage to every woman ; that it is adverse to all her happiest prospects, and prevents not a few from ev- er ad dressing her, who, in reality, might have been the most faithful and obliging companions through life.— Though immoral persons make this apologv, from very unjustifiable motives, yet many others, in moderate cir- cumstances, m'ght advance it with truth ; who, though they neither want integrity, knowledge, nor a sensibility to the charms and merit of a woman, would, yet, never think of degrading her to a condition, whi^h they con* ceive to be beneath her wishes and her habits. I have long considered the immoderate expensive- ness of young ladies, as, by no means, favourable to thtir prospects or happiness, in any view. No person can take a more certain method to make a daughter's life a scene of continual irritation and misfortune, than by thus ridiculously training h«r to high expectations.— It has been the g: adual death of many ; it has made the existence of others a burden, heavy to be borne. Nor can there even in point of real taste, be a greater mistake in education. True dignity con^isteth not in tinsel or show. The nearer approach we can make to superior spirits, is to have as few wants, as possible, whilst we inhabit this tenement of clay. 190 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. LETTER CII. IN your manner with the sex at la r ge, I csuld wish you to avoid the modern forwardness, as well as that shy reserve, which throws a damp on all the innocent gaieties <•( life. The first b<*ars upon its face, a mascu- line indelicacy ; the other is the effect of downright prudery, illbreeding, or affectation. Some women affect a coldness in their deportment, and act, as if they supp>se:l that every man. who ap- proaches them, had a design on their person. Alas ! how miserably are they deceived ! How ridiculous is the vanity which gives birth to such conduct ! Men are so much engaged in business, pleasure and the amuse- ments of the world, that the conquest of a female heart, is often thought beneath their ambition. At any rate it is time enough to be upon your guard, when you really perceive them bent on making serious advan- ces. Many of them will approach you with flattery. This, they have been led to think, tfor only, current coin, wi h the generality of females. If it be not very gross, bear it with good humour. Though you may despise, do not wantonly return it with contempt. This is the Rjethod to make them enemas, and put them on avoi l- ing your society for ever. You may easily be civil and yet convince them bv y pur looks and manner, that you perfectly understand how to appreciate indiscriminate complaisance. Though, by no means seriously bent upon matrimony^ yet not a few of ihem, will pay you flattering atten- tions. These, if you be not cautious, may, very insen- sibly, soften your heart, and ensnare your affections, particularly if they come from men, whose general char- acter or manners you esteem. One caution, therefore, permit me to give you, with an assurance that it most be religiously observed, as you value either your dignity or repose — never to believe any man in earnest, till he makes the most pointed declarations in your favour* LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 10l Fishion has made it so much a matter of form to pay atrentions to a woman, and, particularly, if she is smart, witty, beautiful ; it' she is celebrated for high connex- ions, or accomplishments, or makes a good figure in public, that numbers of men will be mechanically led to flutter about you, who, in fact, mean only to amuse the moment, or do honour to their own good breeding and politeness. Believe me, my d.ar girl, this gay and lively season will soon he at an end. Girls, that dwell on every body's tongue, and sport away, in all their gaudy col- ours, during summer months, like butterflies, are never heard of in the winter, but sink into a torpid state. — Thty do not, however, resemble some insects in the verv hippy and enviable privilege of rising with renew- ed charms. Once forgotten, they seldom revive, but are displaced by other, rising favorites forever ; and it has often been observed, that those women aie most rarely thought of for wives, with whom we are the fon- dest of (what is called) flirting, and of sa\ ing a thousand civil things, without meaning or design. W ith men of principle and integrity, you are always secure. They will religiously beware of eng tgingyour affect ions, without honorable views* But these alas ! where women are concerned, are not so numerous, as might be expected. More breaches of fidelity are ob- servable in this intercourse, than in any other instance of the most trifling importance. To entertain a secret partiality for a man, without knowing it reciprocal, is dreadful indeed. If you have address and fortitude enough not to betray it, and thus expose yourself to ridicule and censure, (and yet what prudence is always equal to the task ?) it will cost you infinite grief, anxiety and vexation ; and a victory over yourself, if you do gain it, may be at the expense of your health and constitution. It will, at the same time, totally unfit you for any other connexion ; for who would take the body, when another person is in posses- sion of the soul ? 1$2 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. If any man, therefore, can deliberately be so cruel, as to visit you frequently, and show you <:v try particulari- ty that is only short of this grand explanation, never see him in private ; and, if that be insufficient, and you Hill feel tender sentiments towards him, determine to shun his company for ever. It is easier, remember, to ex- tinguish a fire, that has but just broken out, than one which has been gathering strength and violence, from a long concealment. Many have neglected this necessary precaution, and died silent martyrs to their fondness and imprudence. The eye of beauty has languished in solitude, or been dimmed with a flood of irremediable tears. The heart has throbbed with unconquerable tu- mults, which, gradually have dissolved an elegant frame that deserved a much better fate. Undiscovered by the physician, they have baffled all the resources of his skill ; they have rendered ineffectual all the tenderness of friends, and death alone has administered that ease, which neither beauty, friends, nor fortune could be- stow. It is possible, that men may not always act from una- mtahle motives, when they carry their attentions to a considerable height, without an explanation. Their taste may have privately singled you out from all the rest of the world, whilst Providence has not propitiou ly rais- ed them to circumstances, which they conceive to be worth your acceptance. They may have a delicacy, a dignity, and independence of mind, which would riot easily brook a repukc\ or an inferior situation ; and they may be, very honorably, probing by these, little methods, the state of your inclinations. Ol these circumstances you must endeavor to judge for yourself, or get some discerning, impartial and more experienced friend to be your adviser. If you suspect a person's conduct to arise from such motives, you can- not treat him with too much attention. He has paid you, in the most delicate and flattering manner, the highest compliment in the world ; and you may de« pend on his affection being more sincere, in proportion as it is less assuming, confident, or obtrusive. L'gTTETlS TO A YOUNG LADY. i*: If you have any regard for such a character, his pen- etration will have discovered it. Use no affectation to him. He will see through all its flimsy disguises. At- tempt no prudery ; he will behold your bosom panting through the thin, slight veil, and the hypocrisy will dis- gust. Talk not of fortune or circumstances ; thtyhiwt been the objects of his consideration. I know no meth- od, but, with an honest candor, to throw yourself a fair, enchanting object, on his generous protection, lfby any concealment, you should hurt, that self conscious dignity and affection, which will always attend such a mind, as this, he will never agiin sue to your clemency, but leave you to ruminate on the artifices you have us- ed, in an hopeless repentance. if you suppose on the other hand, that any person dal- lies with your feelings from wantonness , or mere a- musement, you cannot show him too marked a contempt. Though delicacy will not permit you to glance at the .particular impropriety of his conduct, yet there are a thousand methods of making him feel his own insignif- icance, and of changing the little plumage of his vanity, iinto a monument of his shame. There is something so unmanly in sporting with the tender feelings of a woman ; there is something so tru- ly despicable in the character of a person, who wishes a consequence, built upon the tears and distresses of those, whom all great and generous minds are diapos- •ed to protect, that if a female coquette is odious to your sex, a male one should be doubly abhorred by his own. If a person once comes to a serious declaration in your favor, affect no prudish airs of reserve. If you really, feel an affection for him, and can indulge it with prudence, do not scruple to acknowledge it, or to treat him with the greatest bpenness and candor. This will engage, for ever the esteem of every liberal and honest man. If, from any circumstances, unforeseen at the time, you should be under the necessity of dismissing him, as a lover, vou will never fail to retain him, as a R 1U4 LETTERS 'JO A YOUNC LAUY. friend ; ani though with a base, designing person, such a conduct may expose you to some little inconvenience, yet, whose will be the disgrace ? Leave him to the con- tempt and indignation of the sensible, and let him make llae most of the godlike reflexion, that he has endeavor- ed to triumph over artless innocence, and unsuspecting sensibility. There is generally too much affectation of coyness in this intercourse betwixt the sexes. I have no idea of a woman's blushing to avow an attachment. If she has it indeed, it will appear to a penetrating mind, even from her very efforts to conceal it. The involuntary embarrassment, the timid look, the modest blush, and the downcast eye are indisputable symptoms of a strong partiality, which cannot either be concealed or mis- taken. Your sex, I know, have, ideas of suspense, and fancy, that it heightens the merit of the prize. But I dare not recommend such a dangerous expedient. If the cunning be discovered, the punishment may be a lasting coldness and neglect. I do not know any thing, so re- allv graceful as unaffected simplicity. Never disclose the offers or preferences you receive, except to those friends, who are immediately interested in your decision. They are secrets of honor, which v'ou should carry inviolate to your grave. It is ungen- erous to make a man, the subject of observetion, per- haps, of ridicule, because he has tendered you his warm- est affections ; and the envy of your own sex will not be disposed to spare you, for such a palpable display of vanity and pride. If you intend to marry, it is the highest impolicy ; and if you mean to dismiss him, it is cruel to aggravate dismission with contempt. LETTER CHI. FROM the unfavorable sketch, I have given of the morals and sentiments of young men, it is not probable that a woman of the greatest merit, will have any pro- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 19$ iligious number of admirers to distract her choice. — Generally, in the present state of things, if a lady, will be married, she has a number of accommodations to make, many wishes to sacrifice, and mnn.v instances of private taste to be resigned. *Shc must be content w'uh a fortune merely without expecting any good or great qualities, annexed ; or if she seek the latter, she must often forego all hopejs of the former. If, however, you should have a number of suitors, (and, without any compliment, it is notimpossble,) there are a few general principles of most essential conse- quence to regulate your choice. Fortune, spkndor, greatness are alone the crj^ of mer- cenary friends. I am not wholly of their opinion. I have seen many wretched in marring?, with all the trap- pings of greatness. I have known a still greater num- ber happy, who have had only " a dinner of herbs apd love therewith. Do not suffer vour imagination to be dazzled with mere splendor. Never fancy, that brilliamce is connect- ed with the 'mind, or that the happiness of women, any more than that of men, " consisted) in the abundance of the things, that she possesseth." An immoderate fondness for show is a great misfor- tune. It has led many a poor girl to sacrifice herself to some illiterate boor, who had nothing but his affluence to recommend him. If such should be ijour misfortune I need not mention, what would be your feelings. If you was prudent enough to avoid all other evil conse- quences, (and many such, experience records, but deli- cacy forbears to mention,) you might live to envy the ruddy, ?/;?r/w? bit ions milk-maid, whose toils are sweetened by conjugal attachment, and whose blooming children cheer the seeming infelicities of life. How wretched must be a woman, united to a man whom she does not prefer to every ether in the world ! What secret preferences must steal into her heart ! What unquiet thoughts take possession of her fancy ! And what can men of principle call such an act, but 4* gal prostitution ? H)6 hitters to a young lauy. If I was, a despotic tyrant, I would inflict this punish- ment on the women, 1 abhored. She should, entertain ?. piivate partiality for one person, and be married to another* Never suffer yourself to think of a person, who has not religious principle. A good man alone is capable of true attachment, fidelity and affection. Others may feel a fugitive passion ; but on this, alas I you can place no dependence. It may be abated by ca- price, supplanted by some, new favorite, palled by pos- session, and, at any rate, will last no longer, than your personal charms, though those charms may have faded by almost laying down your life for their sike, by bring- ing them a beautiful offspring into the world. During the flattering season of courtship, men will al- ways endeavor to appear in their best colours, and put r.n all the appearance of good humor. But supposing ihis good humor, real, it is but a fluctuating, unsteady principle, depending on the motion of the blood and spir* its. Nothing, but religion, is permanent and unchange- able, always consistent, and always the same. A man of this cast will never fail to treat you with tenderness and attention. If little provocations happen, lie will soften them with gvmleness ; if offences come, he will be sVulded with patknee ; if his own temper be unhappy, he will correct it by the assistance of divine grace and of reflection; if misfoi tune assail you, he will bear them with resignation : in every exigence, he will be a friend ; in all your troubles, a stay ; in your sickness, a physician ; and, when the last, convulsive moment comes, he will leave' you with his tears, and wi h his blessings. All his impetuous passions he will suppress, from a sense of duty ; and if ever by an z//z- guarded sallv, he should unfortunately have hurt your feelings, or \\ 1 ited your peace, he will sufTer more pain f*-om the piivate recollection, than he can possibly have inflicted upor. you. Ten thousand cares, anxieties and vexations will mix with the married state. Religion is the only principle*; that can infuse an healing balm, L&- LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 107 spire both parties with serenity and hope, dispose them to mutual concessions and forbearance, and prompt them to share each others burthens- with alacrity and ease. Gay and volatile as your spirits may be before thi<; union, when, as yet, no great trials or misfortunes have pressed on them, yet when you seriously think of having a familv, and calling yourself mother of a numerous off- spring, what possible comfort can you promise yourseU wiihout a man of solid probity and virtue : one, who will be regular in the discharge of v\\ the religious, so- cial and domestic duties ; who will fuithfullv train uv vour common children in the fear of God, and not neg- lect their many interests and wants, and wishes for the turbid and licentious pleasure of the bottle, gaming, in- trigue, the chace, the theatre, or for any other scenes of fashionable dissipation* The next thing you should look for is a person of* domestic cast. This will, most frequently, be found in men of the most virtuous hearts and improved under- standings. They will always have abundance of enter- tainment in private, unknown to vulgar minds. And these will secure them fronv seeking their happiness in the factitious plepsure of the world. Of what consequence are all the good qualities of your husband, if you must be constantly separated from him ? Your tenderness in this case will only be the in- strument of a poignant affliction ; your anxiety will be perpetually on the rack ; your jealousy may be alarm- ed ; and, in the best point of view', you will be a widow, with only a nominal hnsbmd, and unprotected, with all the afrpe trance of protection. Wen, who*? circumstances absolutely require such ?"c'v, should never think of this tender connexion. It is this necassary separation after marriage, and the artificial one, which fashion has created, that are the cause of half the disquiets, which infest this sacred state. True affection is only nursed by the parties living much together, in the stillness of retirement. Jt is in the vba4u H 198 LLTTJTRS TO A YOUNG LADY. chiefly, that the purest affections glow. It is from dwell-, ing on the graces of a common offspring, and repeating, in the case of familiar conversation, little domestic an- ecdotes, playfulness and events, that matrimonial friend- ship rises to its proper maturity and vigor. By con- stantly growing together, even branches become insepa- rably intwined* The last thing, though I do not mention it, as abso- lutely necessary, yet highly desirable in a person, with whom you must spend all your days, is sentiment and taste. This will variegate every hour with a success- ion of pleasure, every scene with animated remarks, every incident with fresh conversation, and will make a little paradise of your deepest solitude, in which you will never want the poor resources oi foreign entertain- ment. Fortune surely should be considered. It were ab- surd to think of love, where there is not some prospect of a decent provision for your probable descendants. — That decency depends on birth, habit and- education. But if you can compass the other requisites, be as mod- iste as possible, in your demands of fortune. Virtue and affection have an amazing power of inspiring con- tentment. A morsel thus sweetened, will be pleasant to the tastes In a cottage so enlivened, joy will spring. Child r en, so educated, will be rich in goodness. The Almighty will, look down from heaven with approba- tion, and crown the happy pair with the choicest of his ij]^ss>n£s ! LETTER CIV. Never think of marrying a weak man, in hopes of. governing him. Silly people are often more peevish and refractory, than you would suppose ; but if you could even gain your point, and by great address and management rise to the helm, I should not by any. means, congratulate your success. 7/qmen, that assume the reui3 3 seldom manage then\ LETTERS TO A YOUtfG LAKY. 1 99" with dignity. Their authority breaks forth in number- less, petty instances of tyranny and* caprice, which only render them miserable in, themst ive, as well as unami- able to every beholder. The quality which shows, a married lady to advantage, is a modest submission ot her understanding to the man, whom she has not been ashamed to honour with* her choice. I have frequently mentioned Milton, as peculiarly happy in his ideas of, what constitui.es, conjugal pro- priety. His Eve reveres her husband. She listens to his conversation, in order to be instructed. In him, she feels herself annihilated and absorbed. She always shows that deference and consciousness of inferiority, which, for the sake ef order, the all wise Author of nature, manifestly, intended. The consequence is, that her character appears lovely to all, and that her asso- ciate, (as all sensible men will) treats her with double tenderness, and gives her every mark of a delicate pro- tection : He in delight Both of her beauty and snbmhume charms, Smil'd with superior love. To whom thus Eve, with perfect beauty adorn'd, My author and disposer, what thou bidd'st, Unargu'd I obey ; so God ordains ! God is thy law ; thou, mine ; to know no more. Is woman's happiest knowledge and her praise. When men have lived single for fifty or sixty years, through a multiplicity of business, ambitious schemes, or perhaps from more criminal causes, it is no uncom- mon thing to see them, all at once, determined on wed- lock, and paying their court to some fine blooming girl of eighteen. Indeed, in the present state of things, it- a woman be not married early, her chance is small ; so violent is the rage for youth and beauty, even in dj- vrepid beaus .' There is something in this practice T that, very grossly TEAS TO A YOUNG LAbY". .Its both your delicicy and understanding. It loo** as if these, sovereign louts of the creation, at the mo- :.i r.t when they cowl: scend to pity your distress, and h1 no comfort in habits of another kind, could or- der the most elegint and fashionable amongst you, to come at call ! It is true, indeed, that they do make you a consider- ation. Your jointer is, generally, in proportion to the age of the party. The hundreds are increased, as the head is hoary, as the frame is enfeebled, or as wrinkles have contracted the countenance. Never indulge the thought of marrying in this man- ner. "Wherever there is a great disparity of years, there cannot be »ny durable union of hearts. Gloom and gaiety do not easily assimilate.^ Nature has placed at a great distance from each, other, the torrid and the frigid zones. People's views of life, their sentiments, projects, companies, pleasures and amusements, differ so exceed- ingly, at these different ages, that it is impossible their affections should be unired. A thousand conflicts, of taste and opinion, and as many causes of jealousy and. dislike will mingle with so injudicious a connexion. A woman, in such delicate circumstances, where the heart is not engrossed by a real attachment, may, and probably will, sec many persons -more agreeable, than him, to whom she is bound by an indissoluble tie. If she has prudence and principle enough to keep up ap- pearances, and thus preserve her innocence in the eyes ■of the world, it can be no supreme felicity to be the wife of one man, whilst her heart is secretly panting f »r another. Lt is indeed a trial, which no splendor caw recompense and no fortune ease. If she should ever be so unguarded as to betray sweh a preference, in any part of her conduct, her peace and happiness are lost forev- er ! but admitting her to behave with the greatest pro priety, and even to be attached to the Sultan, who owns her, still the jealousy of old men is a m^st amazingly irritable passion. It i? that watchful dragsn, whicfa LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 20 1 guards the Hesperian fruit ; and with a keen eyed glance will be apt to discover some hidden, meaning in* a look, impropriety in a gesture, or a violation of the marriage covenant in the roost common civility. At anv rate, it is no very flattering allotment to a woman, to be the nurse of a peevish, infirm or emaciated old man, at any age, when she might claim the most deli- cate passion, and reciprocal endearments. What wo- man of spirit would bear to be suspected? What chris- tian should vow, at the altar of her God, an affection to a man, when her attachment was solely to his fortune I And who that has read one page of human life,, must not tremble at the consequences, that have generally at- tended such imprudent connexions ? " A reformed rake makes the best husband." Does; he ? It would be very extraordinary,, if he should. — Besides, are you very certain, that you have power to, reform him ? It is a matter, that requires some deliber- ation. This reformation, if it is to be accomplished,, must take place before marriage. Then, if ever, is the period of your power. But how will you be assured that he is reformed? If he appears so, is he not insidu- ously concealing his vices, to gain your affections ? And wken he knows they are secured, may he not, gradual- ly, throw off the ma^k, and be dissipated, as before? Prodigality of this kind is seldom eradicated. It re- sembles some cutaneous disorders, which appear to be healed, and yet are, continually, making themselves vis- ible by fresh eruptions. A man, who has. carried on a criminal intercourse with immoral women, is not to be trusted. His opin- ion of all females is an insult to their delicacy. His at- tachment is to sex- alone, under particular modifications. On him, virtue, knowledge, accomplishment and graces, are miserable thrown away. To gra'ify an inextin- guishable thirst for variety, su',h a wretch is often seen to forsake the most deserving wife, to seek his usual, fugitive pleasure, with m\ abandoned, mercenary har- lot. What would you think of this ? Yet no graces, rto 202 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, affection, no delicacy, on your part, may be able to pre- vtnt it. It seems the curse of heaven, entailed on his », and, generally, pursues him even to the grave. The supposed predilection of your sex for rakes, must probably, arise from their ostentatious appearance, gaie- ty, spirits, and assumed politeness. But how deaily is such tinsel purchased by an union with them ! How often has a long, harrassed life of poverty and remorse, been the dreadful sacrifice to this indiscretion of a mo* mem. LETTER CV. MEN in professions may be expected to possess the most liberal sentiments, as having enjoyed a superior education ; and their manners and society rill, of course, be most agreeable and interesting to ladies.— Military people are, proverbially, favorites. I will not so much degrade the dignity of your sex, as to suppose, that it is the mere colour of their habits, which dazzles your eyes, and works such astonishing miracles in their favour. There are reasons, which may account, more rationally, for your partiality, whilst they do more credit to your understanding. Undistracted with cares and business, they are hap- py in that easy disengagednesf}, of mind, which can ex- haust all its efforts upon the single article of pleasing. — With much time upon their hands, they have frequent opportunities of being in your company, and of feeling, or at least, affecting admiration. Lively and volatile from an healthy life of activity and exercise, they easily assimilate with the manners of a sex, whose distinguish- ing grace is a ch -erful vivacity. Having travelled through vanous places and kingdoms, they necessarily acquire that ease and urbanity of manners, which result from a general intercourse with mankind. Expected firojr'ssrjiial'ij, to be men of courage, you may suppose them the best protectors of your person and your weak- ". Their very choice of the army marks them for LETTERS TO A. YOUNG LADY. 203 genteel notions arid spirit ; and any of these reasons is* perhaps, no disadvantage with a female heart. I should be sorry to suppose, that their general love of pleasure, gaiety and intrigue is amongst their recommendations to the favour of those, who should uniformly, discour- age by tht ir blushes and their frowns every species of levity and vice. In fact, and to be impartial, the agreeableness of offi- cers, is like that of other men. There is the human mixture of the good and the bad. I have always found, from my own observation, that the older and experien- ced are some of the most interesting characters in soci- ety. The various scenes, through which they have passed, give a sprightliness and diversity to their con- versation, and their politeness lends it a charm. I have met with as many of the younger sort, who have seem- ed to think the petty ornament of a cockade, an ade- quate substitute for all improvements of the mind; a shelter for litigious insolence and puppyism, and an ex- clusive security for the tenderest affections, and attach- ment of a woman. But this evil is not confined, merely, to the army. — It is so in the church. How truly amiable are the ex- perienced, the learned, and the exemplary of this pro- fession, whose knowledge is happily tissued with devo- tion, and softened by a general intercourse with the world ! How manv, on the other band, when they are just initiated into the sacred office, ridiculously pique themselves on a cassock rn:l a scarp ; and, u der that solem garb, go as far as possible, in the mazes of beau- ism, vanity and affectation ! There are, doubtless, very amiable people in the ar- my ; but their general notions and treatment of your sex, forbid me to wish that you should, ever, cultivate much acquaintance with them, because the circumstan- ces, in which thev are placed, render the thought* of a serious connexion, by no means desirable. If we could suppose their prirtciplesnot to be injured by their mode of life j if they could resign from the moment of mar- 20-1 LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. riage, all their notions of unlimited gallantry and pleas- ure, what is their pay, but a scanty subsistence for a sol- itary individual ? What is their liTe, but an unsettled pilgrimage from one country to another ? How often are they called, at a moment's warning, to fight, perhaps perish, for their king and countiy? or, to die more suddenly, and more ignominiously, by the hands of a Duellist, who challenges them into eternity for the slightest provocation, perhaps for the misplacing only of a syllable ! In the midst of such alarming prospects, what has a -woman to expect from maniage with them, but con- tinual, toils, unceasing dangers, perpetual apprehen- sions; poverty, remorse, vexation— children without provision, and sorrows, which the lenient hand of time, scarcely cam assuage. If you was ever so happily united with a man of this description, how dreadful must be the absences, you will have to bear, mixed as they will be, with a dissolv- ing tenderness, and unavoidable alarms ; or, on the other hand, how insupportable your toils, "with perils in the wilderness, perils by the sea, and perils amongst false brethren ; with weariness and painfulness ; with watchings, often ; with hunger and thirst ; with fastings often ; with cold and nakedness." Remember the fate •of lady C — w— s, and drop a tear. That gaiety of heart, which, once doted on a man for his smartness or vivacity, will find too much exercise for its penitence and grief in such serious afflictions. LETTER CVT IN several requisites to an happy marriage, profes* stoned men do not appear, by any means, the most eli- gible. A great Writer has called a physician, u the mere playing of fortune.'' However straitened in his circum- stances, from having received an expensive education, he must assume, particularly in the metropolis, the ap- LETTFRS TO A YOUNG LADY. 205 pcaranrc of property merely to gain employment. This fictitious grandeur may involve him in difficuliies, for many vears. His success from the nature of things, must generally, be slow, nor will it ever depend so much on his own intrinsic merit, as on a fortunate coincidence of circumstances, wholly out of his power. If he suc- ceeds, it will, frequently, be late in life ; and if he does not, he must be embarrassed indeed ! The children of such a person u cannot d'g, and to beg they are asham- ed/' Poverty, sharpened by refinement and sensibility, is afflicting in the extreme ! I do not think the profession of the law, calculated to render a man the most agreeable companion, in the still, unruffled shades of domestic life. It calls into continual exercise, the more turbid passions ; it begets an unpleasant spirit of cavilling and contradiction, and has less tendency to nurse the finer feelings, than any of the other learned professions. By being crowded together, at a dangerous age, in the temple of Lincoln's Inn, joung men are apt to con- tract a licentiousness of morals, a laxity of principles, a species of scepticism to palliate their vice*;, habits of profaneness, not a little dissipation, and, so lar as your ,sex is concerned, very dangerous notions. Before marriage, military men and young lawyers ate not, in my idea, the safest acquaintance. The first are only bent, without looking any further, on domestica- ting themstlves, in agreeable families, by every polite attention to wives and daughters, and thus amusing many leisure hours, which in their s'ate of continual peregrination, would be, otherwise, insupportable ; the latter, in general, scruple not to go great lengths in gal- lantry, where they have no serious intention. Bewa e of such society ; beware of your heart. Lt t not the unblushing front of barrister, let not the mere scarlet h 'bit of a petit, maitre, who Ins studied the win- dings of a female heart, infinitely more, than tactics, or the art of war, let not a few civil sayings or flattering attentions beguile your imagination, or lay vour pru- S 20G LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. dence asleep. I do not think the commerce very sal It I h:\cl a girl of my own, 1 woul4 not expose her to s^ dangerous a trial. Many, doubtless, have come otF conquerors, but more have fallen ; and their wounds and tears have made, upon my memory, a lasting im- pression. Our imagination, however, annexes riches, honours, and even tides to the profession of the law. But this fancy often misleads us. It is true, that merit has a greater chance in this, than in any other profession ; and it is certain, that a fortunate few have attained to very considerable greatness. We hear of a Mansfield, a Thurlow, a Ktnyon, a Loughborough, a Law, an Krskine, and are dazzled with their names, their suc- cess and honours. But not a word is said of a thou- sand others of the fraternity, whom, though possessed of considerable talents, fortune never chose to bring in- to the public view, or to distinguish with any of her favours. But all these discouragements apart, if a lawyer is eminent, he can scarcely ever be at home. Perpetual cares and business surround him, and poison his repose. His wife and children must be neglected, and domes- tic endearments sacrificed to tumultuous cares. And if he be poor, no poverty can open the door to more chicaner}, artifice, or meanness. At any rate, if lae be a man of pure morals and religious principles, he has withstood the greatest temptations, that human nature can encounter, and for superior and heroic virtue almost deserves a place in the kalendar of saints. See now a man's partiality to his own profession ; but if it be not founded in reason, I beg you will reject it. The office of clergyman calls them to a more regular and retired life, than that of most other men. Their exemption from the bustle and competitions of the world, nurses innocence and sensibility ; and if their heart be not very depraved, their enjoyments and studies must soften and refine it. Their education should have given them the power of entertaining, and LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. 207 their calling supposes, not only integrity, but piety and virtue. A man of this cast seems particularly calculated not only to relish, but to enhance the happiness of a married state. With hours at command, he has leisure For the tender offices of friendship,, and the little, Sportive play- fulness of amusing conversation. Whilst the woodbine and the jasmine surround his modest mansion, he dreads no unpropitious accident, that shnll drag him from his retreat, and can tread with a faithful partner of his cares, the 1 .nely, u silent haunts, which contempla- tion loves." lie has time for superintending the in- struction of children, and calling their latent powers into exercise and action. He has opportunity to realize the picture of a Milton, and watch the opening beauties of the paradise about him. Let me, however, be candid, and give rou the possi- ble reverse of this piece. The church is in a very un- happy situation. That education, which renders the ecclesiastic agreeable, often sharpens his affliction. — That refinement, which captivates the elegant and in- experienced, is the spear, which fetches drops of blood from his heart. Frequently without an adequate pro- vision, ami incapable, by any secular employment, of improving his circumstances, these apparent privileges are only his misfortune. The sensibility, which loves a woman, doubly mourns her allotment. That tender- ness, which embraces children with such affection, shudders at their prospects. That independence which results from liberal sentiments, startles at the thought of poverty or distress ; and that peace, which he has found in the abodes of solitude, unfits him for the tur- bulent agitations of the world. Many men, however, there are in this procession, very amply provided for ; and, if one of these falls to your lot, with the habits and dispositions, that should result from his character, I think you may form every rational hope of comfort and enjoyment. Still, do not suppose me narrow or illiberal. There are doubtless, -06 LETTERS 10 A YOUNG LADY. lumbers of worthy and amiable men in the other pro- fession ; there are, as certainly, many worthless, im- moral, and profligate persons in the church. General rules admit of infinite exceptions. And as your heart is disengaged, I meant only to state the influence of (JiiTrrcnt habits and employments on the mind, and the probability of their conducing to happiness or misery in this important connexion. And I still must urge, that* if a clergyman be a bad husband, it is in the defiance of the strongest inducements to be otherwise, and of every disposition, which his studies and his prayers should have led him, either to cultivate in himself, or recommend to others. * LETTER CVII. A MERE country squire will be mo*e attached to his dogs, his hunting parties and horses, than he could be to any wife in the world. The most lovely graces, the most exquisite accomplishments will make no im- pression on his debased and vitiated mind. He will not b« able even to discover them. From him, you must expect none of the little, soothing attentions. He will hhock your delicacy with a thousand coarsenesses, without a sensibility that he is doing wrong ; and if you should expostulate, he will place it only to the account of female prudery, conceit or affectation. He will con- verse with you chiefly on the dtlici.us subjects of the bottle or the chace ; and he v\iil occasionally introduce vou to the honour of an orquainrance with a number of ignorant i-11 bred boors, who will esteem you in exact proportion, as you want elegance, of manner, sentiment or understanding ! Young la lies never act so injudiciously, as when they sacrifice themselves to stupid vulgarity. Their charms are never lost on men of sense, delicacy and politeness- By them their throne is established. It is in their hearts, that they have always a sovereign and undisputed sway. 1 have now given you my sentiments very freely cor> LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY 209 cerning a great variety of Characters. But, marry whom you will, one further lesson is necessary to your happi- ness, ns well as that of the person, with whom you are connected — and that is — to consider your home, as the chief scene of your pleasures, and your exertion. Though a woman, before this union, may be admir- ed for her accomplishments of dancing, dress, painting, singing, &c. yet after it, we expect her character to dis- play something more substantial. To a man, who must spend his days in her company, all these little superfi- cial decorations will speedily become insipid and unim- portant. Love must be preserved by the qualities of the heart, and esteem secured by the domestic virtues. A man does not want to be dazzled in this connexion, or to possess a partner, who seeks the admiration of coxcombs or beaux. He wants a person who will kind- ly divide and alleviate his cares, and prudently arrange his household concerns. He seeks not a coquette, a fashionist, a flirt, but a comfortable assistant, companion and friend. Let not a woman's fancy dream of perpetual admira- tion. Let it not be sketched out endless mazes of plea- sure. The mistress of a family has ceased to be a girl. She can, no longer, be frivolous or childish with impuni- ty. The angel of courtship has sunk into a woman, and that woman will be valued principally as her fondness lies in retirement, and her pleasures near the nursery of her children. Nor are these pleasures small. What- ever fashion thinks, they have a secret relish, which the world cannot give. If men are expected to distinguish themselves by sci- ence, valour, eloquence or the arts, r; woman's ' greatest praise consists in the order anJ I ml of h> r family. Nor is this beneath the J- in the world. Never :;» she greater i - t in h ■ . ,<- ... It spoils no features. It places the \yt\ ide, and in the mo t favor I • . . ■ ■" ' ' "'' ' : 210 L: TTEuS TO A YOUNG LADY. vapours ; and every family, without it, mast be a scene of discord ; a state of anarchy, in which there is no head to govern^ and all the members seem unwilling to obey. If we could see the inside of some fashionable hous- es, what a prospect would they present ! The mistress at a masquerade or an opera — servants, drunken, ex- travagant, criminal ! — Children, receiving their very first impressions from their oaths and curses — here, meat perishing, which might have fed the hungry — there, garments mouldering, which would have clothed the naked — in one place, filth and nastiness concealed — in another, valuable furniture tassed about, without decency and without care ! No fortune can answer such immoderate expenses. No comfort can consist with so much disorder. " A good woman looketh well rinri' moral* ; and therefore, keeps his sons at home, * have acquired a sufficient stock of virtue to serve t! an antidote against the dangers of the wovll. Thej 21,'> LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY, have, however, their regular schorl hour3 and exercis- es, which are observed wiih the most undeviating punc- tuality. The elder of the boys has made a considerable proficiency in the Latin language. He has abridged the English and the Roman histories, and is complete- ly versed in heathen mythology. 15ut, above all, he is instructed in the fundamentals of religion, and of his du- ty to God and man. The scriptures make a part of his daily reading ; and the sensible parent embellishes them with such a number of striking observations, as greatly interest the curiosity, and fix the attention of his unvi- tiated pupil. With Kollin's Belles Lettres, and the Abbe Millot's Elements sur Phistoire, he is perfectly acquainted. The latter he is abridging ; and Telemachus is warmly pres- sed on his attention, as containing those immortal les- sons of virtue, which alone can dignify any character or station. Eugenio has been at the pains of throwing select parts of Seneca, Marcus Antoninus, and the Memorabilia of Xeiiophon into an English dress, for the advantage of hia little family. He has selected a system of Ethics, and almost of divinity, from the entertaining works of Addison, JoTmson, The World, &c. and the arrange- ment is so excellent, that it ought to be made public for the benefit of mankind. The first morniner, that I spent under this happy roof, I was awakened from my slumbers by the soft harmonious voice of Miss , who was chanting to the harpsicord, an early hymn of gratitude and devo- tion to her merciful Creator. It was taken from the .*, Spectator. Vv hen all thy mercies, O my God, My rising soul surveys ; Transported with the view, I'm lost In wonder, love and praise. LETT E US TO A Y O U KG LA DY . _ i < i The whole reminded me of the words of an ingen- ious Poet : J'entends encore six voix, ce language cnchanteur, Et ces sons souvarains de l'oreille et.du co:ur. Her voice, th'enchanting language still I hear, Those sovreign accents of the heart, and ear. This is her constant practice, every morning, at six Vclock ; and it has the happiest effect on her temper and spirits, for the rest of the day. It soothes the soul to harmony, and cherishes all the gentler emotions. Immediately after this was finished, the lovely girl took a walk into the garden, as she regularly docs, when the weather will permit, to observe the gradual progress, health and vegetation of her plants and ilowers. I re- quested the honor of attending her and was amazed, \ oung as she is, with her knowledge of natural history, and with the judicious remarks she made on the power and goodness, on the wisdom and contrivance of the magnificent Creator. Before breakfast, Maria (their mother,) hears all, the children together read the psalms and lessons for the day. To this pious exercise I was not invited ; but I doubt not, it was a specimen of female eloquence, des- canting on the vanity of every thing, but devotion and glancing at the dangers and temptations of the world. The employment of this good family is as strict, as usual, and not less pleading, even upon Sundays. The first exercise of this day, after the accustomed hymn of praise to their Creator, is to abridge a few pages of Wilson's Indian Instructed, or of Seeker's Lec- tures on the Catechism. After the service, all the chil- dren gave in, to the best of their power, an account of the sermon, whVch they have heard. The comparison of their different merits is pleasing, and the very contest excites emulation. When this is finished, their father instructs them with a short comment on the lessons of the day. One hap- 220 LLTTElvSTO A YOUNG LADY. pened to be the history of Dives and Lazarus. Very few have greater powers of the pathetic, than my friend. He brought them ail to tears with dwelling on the pitia- ble circumstances of the beggar, and poured this lesson into their softened minds, that riches are apt to hardtn ihe heart, and have no real dignity or use, but as em- ployed in acts of mercy to our neighbor. He gave, to the parable at large, a new and singular aspect. He observed, that luxury had led Dives to unbelief, and that unbelief bad plunged him into hell. On another occasion, he dwelt on the scriptural his- tory of Hainan. In him, he expatiated on the uncer- tainty and fickleness of all outward greatness, and the insufficiency of honours, stations, popularity, to con- fc« any real happiness on a mind, that had not sub- mitted to internal government and the discipline of re- ligion. M What a trifle (said he,) deranged this great man's enjoyment ! Because a poor Mordecia would not bow to his pomp his honors lost their flavor, and the digni- ties, their charm ; his sleep went from him, and he re- fused to be comforted. If his passions had been sub- dued and his soul regenerated with divine grace, he y,ould have been conti nted in the lowest obscurity. A cottage would have given him more satisfaction than his- palace. It would have been Eradicated with hope, and it would have smiled with divine consolations.',' Eugenio is constant at church, and his deportment there i an excellent pattern to all its dependants. His features are marked with a serious fervor, and a cheer- ful dignity, when he is humbly presenting his supplica- tions to the Author of his being. You would be charmed to see how the honest peas- ants dwell on his locks ! what eulogies are expressed pyery countenance ! what fervent blessing are pour- ed forth when he stops to inquire about their families and concerns, and uhut earnest wishes, that his man- sion may long retain him for its owner, and that his ivinuance amongst them, may be lasting as their days ! LETTERS TO A YOUNG LADY. Not behind him in any of the milder virtues, his con- sort looks up to him, with a conscious inferiority, ftS the pride of her heart. Blended with more softness her pi- ty is, if possible, still more engaging ; but she seems to decline all personal consequence, and to bo wholly ab- sorbed in the superior lustre of his character and vir- tues. She receives the prayers and blessing* of their tenants, as it only due Co the man of her affection* ; and though the zeal of the populace would convey her, in their arms, yet, when Eugenia offers his hand to as hef into the carriage, her eyes sparkle with peculia* cheerfulness, and strongly express both her love and gratitude to her protector and her friend ! It is no wonder that they are so much admired*. No wonder that every tongue loads them with- blessings. — This is but the speculative parr of their piety ; the prac- tical is more useful and more engaging. They love their God ; they love their Redeemer, and for hie; sake, they go about doing good. Not a tenant expsriepces an uncomfortable year, but he receives a consider, abatement in his rent. Not a person is injured in all the neighbourhood, but has cause is pleaded, and his wrongs are redressed. Not an old man exists, but he has something by way of pension^ from this virtuous family, to ease his infirmities, and pillow his declining age. Not a great man endeavors to take advantage of a lesser, but my fri°nd, who is an excelh nt lawyer, un- dertakes me business, and exposes die oppressor to hii merited contempt. Every hour, that Maria can spare from her particu- lar domestic employments, is spent in making garments, providing cordials, phycic and accommodations lor the naked, the sick and indigent of her village ; and there times of the day, in which you would conclude, from the vast concourse of people that their house was a pro- fessed asylum for poverty and distress. But now comes out the great secrets of their n ness ; u Alas !* said this good man to me, one night, after supper, when he was reviewing the actions of. the T 2. 222 LF.TTr^S TO A YOUNG LAflY. dnv, M your obliging partiality thinks mc happ^, and so inJeed I am. In the tenderness, friendship, fidelity, and discretion of my M irh, I have more than the treasures even of a world. But this swrtaoode woul 1 soon cease to please-, an 1 the lovely worn m 1 ise the greater p »rt of her charms, if we were not both animated wi«h chris- tian sentiments, an 1 if we di \ not contrive to relieve the Strmeries** and to dignify the littleness of life, by the ac- tivities of virtue. Hi it divine philanthropy, which H the essence of relitrj Mi, is the source of our pleasures. Aid, when I drop into the grave, I shall have but o*v5 single wish, that th'n amia ale guide may be spared to my offspring, and th it the poor may pronounce a last paoegvric on me, urh their prayers and tears. But how very selfish and how cruel is the desire ! What would become of the, then, lonely and disconsolate Ma- ria ? Alas ! continually together in the retirement, con- tinually endeared by growing acts of tenderness, j'ou cannot think how very much our hearts are united ! But this is the condition of all hitman happiness. The ten- derest love must feel the bitterest pangs from a sepa- ration. It is the decree of infinite wisdom, that this world should have no unmixed satisfaction, to put us on earnestly seeking it in one, which is unfading and eternal." These are the sentiments of as fine a gentleman, as the age can boast ; of one, who would do honor to the politest circles, and has power to charm the most im- proved understandings. But that gentleman is a chris* tiaru He has learned to sacrifice all glitter and accom- plishments at the banners of the cross. And this- has made him so charitable a landlord, so active a patron^ 90 tender a husband, so agreeable a companion, so in- dulgent a parent, and so valuahle a friend. Read this, ve conceited coxcombs, who fancy that the character of a gentleman, consists in levity or wickedness^ and blush at your mistake \ LF.TTF.RS TO A YOUNG LADY. 22 3 LETTER CXI. I CANNOT fully satisfy your inquiry So far how -ver, as scripture and reason will be oar guides, I will endeavor to accompany you into the pleasing spec- ulation. To yon, who have buried so manv dear and amiable friends, and is a 1 so $kort an enjoyment of them here, it is natural to enquire, whit voj may see ? or know of them hereafter ; whether y )j sH ill be able to recognize departed spirits after death, an I wherein the joys of heaven will consist. It is plain from sacred writ, thit our present, earthly ', will be changed into ^'orient, bodies ; and our soul*, a3 it were, sublhned or re-modified, as necessary to the en- joyment of future bliss, whatever it may be. Whilst therefore we are, in part, composed of matter, it is im- possible that we should have a full conception, or th it any adequate representation can be conveyed to us in words, of the real nature and essence of such pleasures, as, in fact, are only adapted to minds of a much superi- or texture, and bodies of a more celestial and divine or- ganization. Thus the scriptural images »or loves the transports of a life serene. Be thine the friendship of a chosen /hv, To every virtue uniformly true ; Be thine, the converse of some kindled mind, Candid to all, but not to errors blind ; Prudent to check or warm unguarded youth, And guide thy steps in innocence and truth. Those who regard, will fulsome language wave , And, in the friend sincere, forget the slave ; Will make, like me, your happiness its care, Nor wink at specks, that render you less fair. From books too, draw much profit and delight, iAt early morning, and at latest night ; But far, O far ! from thy chaste eyes remove The bloated page, that paints licenrious love ; That wakes the passions, but not mends the heart, And only leads to infamv and art ! Let Addison's and Johnson's moral page, And Hawkesv/orthVi pleasing st\le, the hours engage* From Milton feel the warm poetic fire, APPENDIX. 238 Whom all the nymphs of Helicon inspire. With Thompson, round the varied Seasons rove ; His chaste ideas ev'ry heart improve. Let tuneful Pope instruct you how to sing, To frame the lay, and raise the trembling wing. Such be thy joys ; and through this varied life, Whether a maid, a mother, or a wife ; May fair content for ever fill thy breast, And not an anxious care disturb thy rest ; May love, the purest passion of the ski^s, Play round thy heart, and sparkle in thine eyes ; May all thy worth be virtue's sweet reward, And goodness only claim thy just regard.