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THE 
 
 LADY’S OWN BOOK: 
 
 INTELLECTUAL, MORAL, AND PHYSICAL 
 
 MONITOR 
 
 GLASGOW AND LONDON; 
 
 W. R. MTHUN & SON, PUBLISHERS. 
 
GLASGOW : 
 
 DUNN AND WRIGHT, 
 TEINTERS. 
 
dj 
 
 
 
 TO 
 
 LADY ALISON, 
 
 OF FOSSIL, 
 
 THE LADIES^ OWN BOOK 
 
 IS, WITH HER ladyship’s KIND PERMISSION, 
 
 RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY 
 
 THE PUBLISHEKS. 
 

 i 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 We do not know of any class of books more im- 
 portant than that to which the volume we now 
 introduce to our fair readers belongs. Whatever 
 has a tendency to elevate the minds, and im- 
 prove the manners and habits of the mothers and 
 daughters of this or indeed of any other country, 
 must be looked upon as the most important, 
 above all others, that can be mentioned. When 
 we consider for a moment the influence which 
 mothers, by their natural position in society, 
 have over the rising generation, — over the men 
 who, although as yet but mimic King Arthurs in 
 the nursery, are born to move, and govern, and 
 guide the mighty machinery of this great and glo- 
 rious nation, — ^it will be readily admitted how very 
 important is the task we have here taken upon 
 us to perform. 
 
 We do not presume to say how successful we 
 have been in our efibrts to produce what we 
 intended, but we will say this much for ourselves, 
 
vi PREFACE. 
 
 we have done our best endeavours^ in a few brief 
 pages^ to lay down many useful^ salutary lessons — 
 to speak in plain Saxon language, without gloss or 
 gilding of any kind, and to say such things to our 
 juniors, which we, in our youthful days, would 
 have been most thankful to have had said to 
 us. No such books existed when we would have 
 been glad of such faithful monitors. Beyond our 
 old-fashioned friend Chesterfield, and the dry, 
 although elegantly written papers in the Spectator, 
 or the dangerous slip-slop polish of the French 
 school, we had notning even suggestive on such 
 topics to help us in forming our ideas. We 
 may therefore safely affirm, that what we have 
 given forth in ^^The Lady’s Own Book,” as a 
 series of addresses and admonitions, is altogether 
 derived from the lessons of actual experience, and 
 perhaps, after all, this is the best school in which to 
 learn. Dear bought experience always produces the 
 most lasting effect on our minds and our memorier 
 and proves the most faithful conductor through 
 life. We are far more apt to speak of, and refer 
 to, our own experiences, rather than to quote 
 from even the most exemplary biographies, or 
 refer to the greatest achievements of our most 
 gifted acquaintances. It is the bent of the human 
 
TREFACE. 
 
 \n 
 
 mind to do so. It always has been thus, even 
 in the days of Solomon of old, the wisest of men, 
 and we may expect it to be so to the end. 
 
 Let us therefore say to all young ladies about 
 passing out of their teens, and entering on the 
 busy, active, scene of life that lies before them, — to 
 all who have formed, or are about to form matri- 
 monial connections, — to all who have got married, 
 and now, it may be, are at the head of influential 
 establishments of their own, requiring arrange- 
 ment, method, management, and the application 
 of their good sense from day to day, that in this 
 book they will find much that is useful, — much 
 that will help them, and, we venture to assert, 
 nothing that will in any way, or under any cir- 
 cumstances, mislead or misguide them. We would 
 not be so empirical as to insist that our i^ysi dixit 
 should be at once taken without inquiry or consi- 
 deration, for we would rather lead the minds of 
 our fair sisters to think for themselves. We 
 would wish them to take this more as a book of 
 suggestions , — as a book of hints, upon which every 
 one may act and expand according to the cir- 
 cumstances in which Providence has placed them. 
 
 They may, however, confidently depend upon 
 it, that, so far as the limited scope of the volume 
 
Till 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 admits of it, this is a reliable authority, — that it 
 gives the results of experience to which we have 
 already referred, of a long life not spent in the 
 idle lap of luxury, but always in constant activity 
 and under many changing vicissitudes of fortune; 
 taking notes of all that was passing around, and 
 trying how difficulties might be met and in- 
 conveniences overcome. Take, then, dear young 
 friends, what is here laid down in your own 
 hand. Test its every advice from day to day as 
 you progress in life: again, test its truth and 
 usefulness for yourselves from your every-day ex- 
 perience; and when you have grown old in years, 
 you may be able to improve upon it, and hand 
 down to the next generation a book still more 
 likely to shed on society its benign influence than 
 this its humble predecessor. 
 
 We expect to meet with the remark from some 
 quarters, ^^Why add another to the many books 
 of this class already in existence?” We reply, 
 that we do not know in the language a book 
 possessing, in so small a space, so much real, solid 
 groundwork for future usefulness; — we say the 
 groundwork, for that is all we aim at. We only 
 as it were attempt to lay the foundation-stone, 
 and only profess to lead our young friends into the 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 IX 
 
 proper path of duty. We point to them the nar- 
 row gate that leads to happiness; we hold out the 
 helping-hand, and offer the willing heart, to enable 
 all to get in at this narrow gate, and show how 
 dangerous it is to enter in at the wide gate, 
 which leads to destruction; and, alas! it is to be 
 regretted, in our day, into which so many of the 
 class we now address find but too ready an access. 
 Besides, we do not think too many books of such 
 a class and tendency as this volume can be pro- 
 duced. The more labourers in such a field, the 
 gi'eater will be the harvest. Let all aim at pro- 
 ducing the most useful crop — of doing to the 
 rising generation the greatest good; and we say 
 to every one, ^^All hail! good sisters of charity, 
 in such a noble — such a Christian aim!” 
 
 If ^^The Lady’s Own Book” is only productive 
 of the good which it is our heart’s desire should 
 result from the publication of it, we shall have 
 the satisfaction of thinking we have not lived or 
 laboured in vain, — that we have not travelled from 
 Dan to Beersheba without noting the necessity 
 of, and setting up as we went along some useful 
 hand-posts to guide and direct those who are tc 
 follow after us in the kaleidoscopic changes in 
 their journey through life. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION, 1 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 EARLY FRIENDSHIPS, 5 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS, . . 19 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES, . . 31 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY, . . 48 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 GENERAL READING, 68 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE OF MIND, .... 78 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 FORMING THE MANNERS, .... .88 
 
XU CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 CONVERSATION, 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD, 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MARRIAGE, 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS, 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 PROPER MODE OF TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR, 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 PRACTICAL RELIGION, 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE, 
 
 CHAPTER XVil. 
 
 SELF-GOVERNMENT, 
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 HUMILITY, 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 IMPROVEMENT OF TEVIE, . . . • . 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PREPARATION FOR DEATH, .... 
 
 PAGB 
 
 101 
 
 117 
 
 129 
 
 140 
 
 1C2 
 
 175 
 
 183 
 
 199 
 
 208 
 
 221 
 
 229 
 
 233 
 
THE 
 
 LADY^S OWN BOOK. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 It is for the heart of the parent alone adequately to 
 conceive the tender responsibilities that belong to 
 the parental relation. It is impossible, if he have 
 the feelings of a man — much more of a Christian — 
 that he should contemplate a beloved child coming 
 forward into life, and beginning a career for eternity, 
 without agitating in his own bosom the question, 
 what the probable condition of that child may be in 
 the future stages of existence. And, if I mistake 
 not, there are some special reasons why the solici- 
 tude of a parent should be awakened by contemplat- 
 ing the condition of a daughter^ during the critical 
 period to which I have referred. In addition to all 
 
2 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 tlie other circumstances which render her an object 
 of deep interest, and in winch she shares in common 
 with children of the other sex, she is, in a higher 
 degree than they, dependent on parental aid : there 
 is a sort of natural defencelessness in her condition, 
 independently of the fostering care of those from 
 whom, under God, she received her being, that 
 makes an appeal to a parent’s heart, which, if it be 
 not a heart of stone, he will strive in vain to resist. 
 
 That you may be the better prepared to estimate 
 the importance of the various topics to which I in- 
 tend to direct your attention, I beg you to remember 
 that what you are at the age of eighteen or twenty, 
 you probably will be, making due allowance for the 
 change of circumstances, in every future period of 
 life. In other words, your character will, by that 
 time, in all probability, have acquired a fixed direc- 
 tion — a direction which will last through all the 
 scenes of your prosperity and adversity to your dying 
 hour; which will influence and control all your 
 prospects as it respects comfort, respectability, and 
 usefulness here; and which will go farther, and shed 
 upon your prospects for a future world the bright- 
 ness of immortal glory, or the blackness of endless 
 despair. I admit that there are many exceptions 
 to this remark; but I appeal to the records of 
 
INTEODUCTION. 3 
 
 liiiman experience, I appeal to tlie observation of any 
 individual who has been accustomed carefully to 
 notice facts on this subject, whether the general 
 truth be not as above stated — that in the great 
 majority of cases, the character of a young female, at 
 the close of her education, is formed for life — of 
 course, formed for eternity. I am sure this con- 
 sideration cannot fail, if you duly estimate it, to give 
 deep interest to every effort, and especially every 
 parental effort that is made to form you to virtue 
 and happiness. 
 
 I am aware that much has been written on the 
 subjects upon which I am to address you, and with 
 a degree of ability to which I can make no claim. 
 Nevertheless, I am constrained to say that most of 
 the books with which I am acquainted, designed 
 for the special benefit of young females, seem to 
 me either deficient in some important topics of in- 
 struction, or contain views on some other points 
 from which an intelligent Christian parent would be 
 compelled to dissent. Far be it from me to intimate 
 that I expect to supply all the deficiencies, or cor- 
 rect all the mistakes of those who have gone before 
 me: I only promise that the views which I com- 
 municate shall be such as, after mature reflection, 
 appear to me to be consonant with reason, experi- 
 
4 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 ence, and Scripture. I have no ambition to say any- 
 thing that shall appear new or striking, but my 
 whole object is to give you plain parental advice on 
 topics which do not lose their importance with their 
 novelty. And it is a thought upon which I dwell 
 with some interest, that though you might read the 
 writings of a stranger with indifference, you will 
 peruse these hints with attention, and perhaps ad- 
 vantage, when the heart that dictates them shall 
 have ceased to beat, and the hand by which they are 
 penned shall have mouldered into dust. 
 
CHAPTEE II. 
 
 EAELY FRIENDSHIPS. 
 
 The development of the social principle is one of 
 the earliest exhibitions of human nature. This, in 
 connection with the benevolent affections, constitutes 
 the foundation of friendship. Hence we find that 
 strong attachments often exist between children 
 long before the judgment is sufficiently developed to 
 decide in respect to the qualities which should enter 
 into the character of a friend. A glance at your 
 own experience will convince you that it has been 
 conformed to this law of our condition. You will 
 find, on a review of your childhood, that you have 
 formed many friendships without much discrimina- 
 tion ; some of which may have already given place 
 to others; while some, perhaps, may continue to 
 the evening of life. 
 
 The importance of early friendships is to be esti- 
 mated by the influence which they exert in forming 
 the character. That this influence must be very 
 
 great no one can question who has considered either 
 B 
 
6 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 tli8 constitution of our nature^ or the actual results 
 which are found in experience. We are originally 
 constituted creatures of habit, subject in a high de- 
 gree to the influence of example ; and though many 
 of the impressions which the mind receives in child- 
 hood are necessarily worn out in its progress to ma- 
 turity, yet those which remain are wrought into the 
 very texture of the character, and become the most 
 efficient principles of action. Every person who 
 attentively examines his own character, or who is 
 intimately acquainted with the process by which the 
 characters of others have been formed, will find suf- 
 ficient proof of the reality and extent of this influ- 
 ence. Who has not heard, on witnessing the wreck 
 of parental hopes in a ruined and wretched child, 
 that it was the melancholy result of bad early asso- 
 ciations'? And who, on the other hand, has not 
 watched with delight the benign influence of a virtu- 
 ous friendship upon the unfolding faculties of the 
 mind and dispositions of tho heart? 
 
 If so much importance be attached to the friend- 
 ships which you form in early life, you will at once 
 perceive that the choice of your friends ought to be 
 a matter of the most deliberate caution ; for though 
 your earliest attachments must necessarily result 
 from circumstances not within your control, yet, in 
 
EAELY FKIENDSHIPS. 
 
 7 
 
 respect to those which are formed subsequently to 
 the period of childhood, you may call to your aid 
 judgment and reflection. A rule on this subject, 
 which you should never fail to observe, is, not too 
 hastily to profier your confidence — not to consent to 
 an unreserved intimacy with any one till you have 
 gained a thorough knowledge of the character. The 
 effect of disregarding this rule would be to lower 
 the estimate which would be formed of your friend- 
 ship, to expose you at least to the charge of impru- 
 dence, and not improbably to many more serious 
 evils. You may safely calculate that considerable 
 suspicion is to be attached to professions which are 
 made by those who have had little opportunity to 
 know you; while you may reasonably expect, on 
 the other hand, that a friendship which is the result 
 of an intimate acquaintance will be a lasting source 
 of pleasure and advantage. 
 
 In respect to the character of your particular 
 friends, I hardly need say that you are not to expect 
 to find those who are free from imperfection or sin. 
 You will recollect that, in common with yourself, 
 they belong to a race of fallen beings ; and it would 
 be strange indeed if there should not be occasion, 
 both on your part and theirs, for mutual condescen- 
 sion to each other’s infirmities, and mutual forgive- 
 
8 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 ness of each other’s errors. Nevertheless, in the 
 selection of your friends, you may safely place your 
 standard as high as is consistent with our present 
 fallen state ; and you ought, in no case, unnecessarily 
 to contract an intimate friendship with one whose 
 example, on the whole, you would not choose to 
 imitate ; for this obvious reason, that the tendency 
 of such a friendship to assimilate its subjects is so 
 strong that there is little probability, in any given 
 case, of its being counteracted. 
 
 One quality which is of great importance in an 
 intimate friend, is an amiable temper. Every one 
 knows how much of the unhappiness of life results 
 from the haughty, irritable, and unkind feelings of 
 those with whom we are even remotely associated ; 
 of course, the evil becomes greater in proportion to 
 the nearness of the relation which we sustain to 
 them. A person of an unamiable temper was never 
 formed either to enjoy or impart the highest plea- 
 sure connected with friendship ; for though one of 
 this character may be sincerely attached to you, and 
 may be, on the whole, quite desirous of promoting 
 your happiness, it would be passing strange if your 
 intercourse with her should not frequently be embit- 
 tered by hasty or unkind expressions. I advise you, 
 therefore, in the selection of your friends, to have 
 
EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 
 
 9 
 
 particular reference to the natural disposition; and, 
 as a general rule, not to admit to your unreserved 
 confidence any who would be likely often to wound 
 your sensibility, and whose feelings are not, and 
 cannot be attuned to the enjoyments of a refined 
 friendship. 
 
 Another trait which it is desirable that your in- 
 timate friends should possess, is, a good and culti- 
 vated understanding. I do not mean that you are 
 to consider it indispensably requisite that a friend 
 should be possessed of uncommon genius, or should 
 have made great attainments in any of the depart- 
 ments of science or literature; but there is a wide 
 difference between the accomplishments of which I 
 now speak, which fall to the lot of comparatively 
 few, and that intellectual barrenness which must 
 oppose an effectual barrier to all pleasant or useful 
 intercourse. One important purpose which you 
 ought to propose to yourself in an intimate friend- 
 ship, is the culture of the understanding ; for besides 
 the advantages for imj^rovement which are connected 
 with an unreserved intercourse, it would be obvi- 
 ously wrong that so much time as that intercourse 
 would probably occupy, should be spent without con- 
 tributing in any degree to the strength or develop- 
 ment of the intellectual faculties. If your most 
 
10 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 intimate associates are persons of good sense and a 
 good degree of improvement, you can liardly fail to 
 derive some intellectual advantage from mingling in 
 tlieir society; you will breathe an atmosphere which 
 will operate almost insensibly to invigorate the 
 powers of your mind. But if, on the other hand, 
 you are most conversant with those whose minds are 
 cast in an inferior mould, and whose opportunities 
 of mental cultivation are very narrow, you will not 
 only lose much positive advantage, but it will be 
 strange if your own mind do not gradually come to 
 sympathize in the imbecility and barrenness with 
 which it is so constantly brought in contact. 
 
 As another quality which you ought to regard in 
 the choice of your friends, I would mention discre- 
 tion. This is something quite distinct from genius, 
 but though a less dazzling quality, it is probably 
 more important both to happiness and usefulness. 
 Many a female of a brilliant and cultivated mind 
 has sacrificed her own character and the comfort of 
 her friends to indiscretion. If your most intimate 
 friends are of this character, the evil to yourself will 
 be twofold, — you will partake of the unhappiness 
 which they will frequently bring upon themselves, 
 and you will often yourself be subject to embarrass- 
 ment and perplexity in consequence of their impru- 
 
EAKLY FEIENDSHIPS. 
 
 11 
 
 clence. Never be attracted^ then^ in tlie selection of 
 a friend, by any appearance of eccentricity. In al- 
 most every case you will find it associated witb some 
 kind of indiscretion ; and wherever this exists in any 
 considerable degree, it will be enough to poison the 
 most intimate friendship. Let your friends be those 
 who have the reputation of being prudent and 
 judicious. Better that they should possess these 
 qualities than every artificial accomplishment. 
 
 I will only add, in respect to the character of 
 your particular friends, that it is exceedingly desir- 
 able that they should be persons who maintain a 
 serious regard for religion, and who live under its 
 practical infiuence. In the formation of your friend- 
 ships, as well as in everything else, you are to recol- 
 lect that you are an immortal and accountable crea- 
 ture, and to keep in view your preparation for a 
 future world. Nothing will serve more efiectually 
 to prevent or banish all serious impressions than an 
 unrestrained intercourse with the vain and careless. 
 Whatever other attractions such persons may pos- 
 sess, you may rest assured that the single fact that 
 they treat religion with levity or indifierence, is a 
 suliicient reason why they should not be your chosen 
 friends. Indeed, the more engaging they are in other 
 respects the more reason would you have to dread 
 
12 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 tlieir influence as companions; because they would 
 throw around an irreligious life so many more dan- 
 gerous attractions. Let your intimate friends, there- 
 fore, be at least persons who pay a conscientious 
 regard to the duties of religion; and if they have 
 deeply felt its power, you ought to regard it as an 
 additional recommendation. If you rightly improve 
 the privilege, you will not have occasion at the close 
 of life to lament that your most intimate associates 
 were persons of exemplary piety. But if you should 
 choose friends of an opposite character, you have 
 great reason to fear that the remembrance of it will 
 embitter your closing hour with unavailing regrets. 
 
 Let me here remark, as a direction which you 
 will do well always to keep in mind, that your par- 
 ticular friends should not be very numerous. My 
 reasons for this advice are the following : — To meet 
 all the claims which many intimate friendships 
 would involve would require too much of your time, 
 and would necessarily interfere with the duties con- 
 nected with your station in life. You could derive 
 no advantage from having many intimate friends, 
 which would not be as well secured to you by a 
 smaller circle; and indeed just in proportion as the 
 number is extended beyond a moderate limit, you 
 will defeat the purposes which such a friendship is 
 
EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 13 
 
 designed to answer. For it is impossible, from tlie 
 nature of the case, that you could bestow the same 
 degree of confidence and afiection upon a great num- 
 ber as upon a few; and as the advantage to be 
 derived is in some measure in proportion to the 
 strength and intimacy of the friendship, it is obvious 
 that the more numerous your circle of particular 
 friends, the less satisfaction and benefit you can 
 expect to receive. It is equally true, on the other 
 hand, that the greater the number to whom you 
 profier your confidence, the less will your confidence 
 be valued in each particular case; for there is no 
 exception here from the general rule that things 
 are cheap in proportion as they are common. — Be 
 satisfied, then, with a few choice friends, and be 
 not ambitious to be the confidant of all your ac- 
 quaintances. 
 
 Another suggestion closely connected with the 
 one which I have just made, is, that you should not 
 be fickle in your friendships ; — do not hastily give 
 up one friend for the sake of gaining another. Wher- 
 ever this disposition is discovered it is sure to excite 
 disgust, and to attach suspicion to any subsequent 
 professions. Be as cautious as you will in forming 
 your attachments; but when they are once formed, 
 never let them be broken unless on some ground 
 
14 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 that you can justify to your reason and conscience. 
 One single instance of the unreasonable desertion of 
 a friend would do an injury to your character which 
 time could scarcely wear out, or future fidelity 
 retrieve. 
 
 It only remains that I suggest a few hints in re- 
 spect to the manner in which your intercourse with 
 your friends should be regulated. That you should 
 treat them with a high degree of confidence, is im- 
 plied in the fact that you extend to them a particular 
 friendship. ISTever wound them by any unreasonable 
 expressions of distrust, or by withholding from them 
 anything which they have a right to know. Be 
 particularly cautious not to excite curiosity by drop- 
 ping a hint in relation to subjects which, from any 
 consideration, you do not feel willing fully to 
 explain. Such mysterious allusions often excite 
 painful suspicions in the mind, and have not un- 
 frequently been instrumental in separating chief 
 friends. It would be too paltry a consideration for 
 which to wound the feelings, or to expose yourself 
 to the loss of a valued friend, that you might be 
 amused by witnessing the common operations of 
 curiosity. 
 
 But while I would have you as unreserved in 
 your intercourse with your friends as the relation 
 
EARLY FRIENDSHIPS. 
 
 15 
 
 which you bear to them demands, I would also have 
 you beware of the opposite extreme of pouring into 
 their ears everything which you may happen to 
 know, without discrimination. In your intercourse 
 with a censorious world, it would be strange if you 
 should not sometimes hear remarks upon their char- 
 acters, which, however unmeaning in themselves, 
 could not be repeated in their hearing without giving 
 pain. Make it a rule, therefore, never to carry any 
 unfavourable report to a friend, unless you believe 
 that it will, in some way or other, be productive of 
 good. Hot a small part of the ill rumours which 
 exist in society are to be traced to a habit of gossip- 
 ping, rather than to any settled purpose to slander ; 
 and if you should carry everything of this kind that 
 you hear to your friends to whom it relates, no 
 doubt they would often be severely wounded, where 
 there was no positive intention of attacking their 
 character. 
 
 I would say, too, that in your intercourse with 
 each of your friends you ought to maintain a scru- 
 pulous reserve in respect to what may have been 
 confidentially intrusted to you by others. Your 
 duty requires that you should pay a sacred regard 
 to the confidence which each reposes in you; and 
 none of them can reasonably claim that you should 
 
16 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 betray another for their gratification. If you have 
 several intimate friends, who are not, at the same 
 time, the intimate friends of each other, you should 
 bear in mind that in disclosing to one a secret which 
 has been committed to you by another, you violate 
 a fundamental principle of good friendship ; for, how- 
 ever you may confide in the prudence and good faith 
 of the person to whom you make the disclosure, you 
 obviously assume a right which does not belong to 
 you — that of giving notoriety to the private concerns 
 of an individual beyond what you have reason to 
 believe were her intentions and wishes. And the 
 case is not materially difierent in this respect, even 
 where the friend who confides a secret to you, and the 
 friend to whom you confide the same, are intimate 
 with each other : there might be many reasons which 
 would render it desirable that it should not be 
 known to a third person, however friendly, which 
 might not exist in respect to yourself; and at any 
 rate, your friend does not feel, and ought not to feel, 
 when she intrusts a private concern to your keeping, 
 in which, perhaps, she alone is interested, that she 
 thereby relinquishes the privileges of deciding whe- 
 ther or not it is to be communicated to others. 
 You will, therefore, consider the secret of each one 
 of your friends as a separate and inde^Dendent trust, 
 
EAELY FRIENDSHIPS. 
 
 17 
 
 wliich you are faitlifully and sacredly to regard. 
 There is one duty of great delicacy to wliich you 
 may sometimes be called in your intercourse with 
 your friends. I mean that of reproof or admonition. 
 Though I have advised you to set your standard 
 high in selecting your intimate associates, and to 
 choose those whom you believe to be the best models 
 of character, you will not be disappointed to find them 
 sometimes in the wrong; nor ought you to make 
 every foible which you may notice in them the sub- 
 ject of animadversion. At the same time it admits 
 of no question that occasions may arise which will 
 not only warrant, but imperatively demand, that you 
 should take the attitude of a reprover; and on which 
 to remain silent would be a gToss violation of the 
 obligations of friendship. There was a mutual 
 pledge virtually given when your friendship was 
 formed that you would sacredly endeavour to pro- 
 mote each other’s best interests; and you surely do 
 not redeem this pledge, if you suffer gross errors to 
 pass unreproved. The great secret of discharging 
 this duty successfully is to choose a proper time and 
 place, and to do it in the spirit of gentleness and 
 affection. Whenever you take this attitude, instead 
 of appearing to have thrown off the character of a 
 friend, and assuming an air of cold severity, you 
 
18 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 should let every expression and look testify that you 
 are, if possible, more under the influence of genuine 
 friendship than ever. If you only succeed in mak- 
 ing an impression that the reproof is the honest dic- 
 tate of true kindness, you will be in little danger of 
 failing of your object; but if unhappily you leave 
 the impression that it proceeded from personal irri- 
 tation, or from an unreasonable misconstruction of 
 your conduct, it v/ould be strange indeed if you 
 should realize a happy result. 
 
 In general, I would say that you ought to make 
 all your intercourse with your friends as profitable 
 as you can, both to yourself and them. It is hardly 
 possible but that the friendships which you form 
 should be to you a source of great good or great 
 evil. If the time which you spend with your inti- 
 mate associates is chiefly devoted, as it should be, to 
 the improvement of the intellect and the heart, you 
 will never review it but with feelings of approbation. 
 But if, on the other hand, it is given to levity and 
 vanity, and if those whom you regard with most 
 afibction are co-workers with you in murdering the 
 hours which were given for better purposes, then you 
 have reason to expect that the friendships which 
 you now form, instead of being the channel of bless- 
 ings, will serve to poison your moral sentiments, 
 and to accumulate anguish for a dying hour. 
 
CHAPTER III. 
 
 EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 In tliis^ and some following chapters, I design to 
 give you my views briefly on the subject of educa- 
 tion. I say hriefly, for the subject is of such extent, 
 and has so many important connections, that one 
 could scarcely think of doing justice to it in any- 
 thing short of an extended treatise. I shall confine 
 myself to such hints as I think may be most useful 
 to you in prosecuting your own education. 
 
 I would have you, then, in the first place, bear in 
 mind that the great object of your education is to 
 enable you to bring into exercise the powers which 
 God has given you in such a manner as shall 
 contribute most to his glory. For all the noble 
 faculties with which you are gifted, you are indebted 
 to the same Being who gave you your existence j on 
 Him also you are dependent for their preservation ; 
 and it is a first dictate of reason that they should 
 be employed in His service. But these faculties 
 are evidently susceptible of high cultivation; and 
 
20 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 witliout it tliey can never accomplisli the purpose for 
 which they are designed. The object of education, 
 then, is twofold, — to develop the faculties, and to 
 direct them — to bring out the energies of the soul, 
 and to bring them to operate to the glory of the 
 Creator. In other words, it is to render you useful 
 to the extent of your ability. 
 
 From this view of the design of education in 
 general, it would seem that no one — certainly no 
 Christian — could dissent. But who does not know 
 that in the education of females even this funda- 
 mental principle has too often been overlooked; and 
 that, too, by parents who have professed to regulate 
 their whole conduct by a regard to Christian obliga- 
 tion? Especially has this capital eiTor been com- 
 mitted in substituting what is called an ornamental, 
 for a solid education; in taking more care to form 
 the person than to form the mind; and the conse- 
 quence of this has been, that many a girl of fine 
 natural talents has come forth to the world and shown 
 us the fruit of a long and expensive education in the 
 marvellous dexterity she has acquired in the use of 
 her hands and feet. Bat are not females gifted with 
 the exalted attribute of reason as well as the other 
 sex? And where has Providence intimated that in 
 one sex this gift is to be cultivated with the utmost 
 
EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 21 
 
 care, and in the other is to be left in all the wild- 
 ness and barrenness of nature? What if the sexes 
 have not in all respects the same destination ? What 
 if man is destined to stand forth in the bolder walks 
 of society; and what if woman has her station 
 allotted her more exclusively amidst the retired 
 scenes of domestic life? This may be a reason why 
 their education should in some respects be differently 
 conducted; but it can never be an argument for 
 leaving the mind of the female to rust with igno- 
 rance, or moulding her into a pleasant animated 
 playthiDg. If it be desirable that the mind of man 
 should expand and strengthen by exercise, it must 
 also be desirable that the female mind should share 
 in some degree the same cultivation; otherwise the 
 dearest, tenderest, connection of life, which ought to 
 be but another name for the most absolute com- 
 munity of interest and feeling, will be converted 
 into an unequal, unnatural, league between intellec- 
 tual refinement and intellectual barbarism. 
 
 You perceive, then, that the object of female 
 education cannot be attained without careful atten- 
 tion to the culture of the intellect. And let me say 
 that this must extend to the intellect in all its 
 powers — to the perception, the judgment, the me- 
 mory, the reasoning faculty, &c. This is important, 
 c 
 
22 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 not only because each of these various faculties has 
 its distinct office, and just in proportion as it is suf- 
 fered to remain dormant, or turned out of its proper 
 direction, the end for which it is designed is defeated ; 
 but because the different faculties have a mutual 
 dependence upon each other, and like the parts of a 
 well adjusted machine, operate most legitimately 
 and most effectually where the balance is carefully 
 preserved. It is true, indeed, that much respect 
 should be paid to -the peculiar constitution of the 
 mind ; and it should be trained to put forth its most 
 commanding efforts by means of its strongest powers ; 
 nevertheless, there are none of your faculties which 
 you have a right to neglect; and even the feeblest 
 of them should be cultivated at least so far that the 
 mind may attain its fair and just proportion. 
 
 It is also desirable, in order that you may attain 
 the true end of education, that you should, as far 
 as possible, adopt a course which will combine 
 particular and general utility : that is, the various 
 branches which you pursue, should be such as may 
 be turned to some practical use, v/hile they minister 
 to the general culture of the mind, and give it 
 the easy command of its own powers. The most 
 interesting view of the education of the mind is 
 that which regards it as a system designed to bring 
 
 J 
 
education — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 23 
 
 out its powers, and carry it forward from one 
 degree of strength to another. What though you 
 may gain ever so much knowledge; if every new 
 degree of it is not a new degree of intellectual- power, 
 you do not reap the legitimate fruit of your mental 
 toil. That this important object may be gained, 
 accustom yourself in every branch of study to inde- 
 pendent reflection, and let your mind freely think its 
 own thoughts, and be not afraid to presume that the 
 text book itself, v/here it is anything else than the 
 Bible, may be v/rong. Not that I would encourage 
 in you a habit of intellectual presumption; — that in 
 any youth is disgusting, in a young female it 
 is intolerable. But that habit of modest inqui- 
 sitiveness which asks for a reason for whatever it 
 assents to, and which unostentatiously pushes its 
 inquiries beyond authority, or even in the face of 
 authority, is always to be commended ; and is fitted 
 above almost any other habit of mind to give you a 
 knowledge of your powers on the one hand, and a 
 command of them on the other. 
 
 Let me here say a word in regard to the use and 
 abuse of text books. That you may derive from 
 them important aid in the prosecution of your 
 studies there can be no doubt ; and there is as little 
 question that they are capable of being perverted as 
 
24 
 
 THE Lady’s own book. 
 
 auxiliaries to mental inaction. The true use to be 
 made of them is, not to supersede, but to assist re- 
 flection; not merely to communicate information, 
 but to give an impulse to the intellect by suggesting 
 hints and principles which it may follow out to their 
 legitimate results. But the danger is, that while 
 your memory will be laid under contribution to 
 gather up whatever is said in the text book, your 
 other faculties will find a ready dispensation; and 
 that in your recitation you will be satisfied to con- 
 fine yourself to the very letter of your author. In 
 order to guard against this evil, let what is said in 
 the text book be regarded as only the basis of what 
 you are to learn ; and let it serve as a guide to con- 
 duct you into other fields of thought; and accustom 
 yourself to scrutinize every principle, and seek for a 
 solution of every difficulty that may present itself. 
 Such a use of text books, while it will not expose 
 your mind to be enslaved by authorities, or leave 
 any of its faculties to rust through inaction, will 
 secure every positive advantage which a record of 
 the laboiirs of other minds can impart. 
 
 But while you should keep in view the genera] 
 culture of your mind, it is important that each par- 
 ticular branch that you pursue should be of practi- 
 cal utility. It cannot be denied that the intellectual 
 
EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 25 
 
 labours of many of the schoolmen, previous to the 
 revival of learning in Europe, were of great extent, 
 and were fitted to produce a high degree of mental 
 acumen. But every one who has looked into their 
 writings knows that the subjects upon which they 
 employed their faculties were of little practical 
 moment ; and that they would often pour out a world 
 of learned nonsense to establish a point, which, after 
 all, was not worth establishing. They indeed, by 
 this means, acquired an extraordinary power of dis- 
 crimination; and this the true theory of education 
 certainly does not overlook; but it aims at this end 
 by employing the mind upon subjects of practical 
 utility; subjects which it can turn to some account 
 in the every day affairs of life. And let me say that 
 it is important not only that the knowledge which 
 you acquire should be practical, but that you should 
 also gain the ability of carrying it out as you may 
 have opportunity, in the various departments of 
 human action. You might have every variety of 
 learning, but if withal you had not learned to re- 
 duce it to practice, you could never rise above an 
 educated dunce; whereas a much less degree of 
 knowledge, with the ability of applying it, would 
 render you at once respectable and useful. 
 
 I have cautioned you against an improper reliance 
 
2G THE lady’s own book. 
 
 on text books ; it is equally important that you 
 should guard against depending too much on in- 
 structors. Why is it that many a girl of good 
 natural talents, after enjoying the best advantages 
 of education for years, comes away from school a 
 mere smatterer in most branches included in her 
 course, and thoroughly versed in none ? The reason 
 often is, that she has contented herself with being 
 in a literary atmosphere, and going through the 
 daily routine of recitations; and while she has de- 
 pended upon her instructor to solve every difficulty, 
 has hardly taxed herself with the labour of so much 
 thought as was necessary to apprehend his explana- 
 tions. Now I wish you to be deeply impressed with 
 the truth that all the instruction in the world will 
 never make you a scholar independently of your 
 own efforts. There is no such thing as thinking by 
 proxy any more than breathing by proxy; intellec- 
 tual acquisitions must be the fruit of intellectual 
 labour; and whoever will not encounter the one 
 must be satisfied to remain destitute of the other. 
 I say, then, listen attentively to all that is com- 
 municated by your instructors, and endeavour to 
 make the best use of it ; but that this may be the case, 
 let their thoughts become incorporated with your 
 ov/n, just as you do, or as you ought to do, in relation 
 
EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 
 
 27 
 
 to the thoughts of the authors whom you study. 
 Your instructors may indeed co-operate with you 
 in the cultivation of your mind; but if you un- 
 dertake to throw the whole burden upon them, 
 the result may indeed witness to their fidelity, 
 but it certainly will witness to your folly and 
 mortification. 
 
 Closely connected with the faithful exercise of 
 your own faculties, independently of text books 
 and teachers, is a habit of diligence. I do not 
 mean that your whole time is to be occupied in 
 study; this, while it would expose your health, 
 would impail' the vigour of your faculties, and thus 
 diminish your amount of acquisition. I would 
 have you exercise your mind closely in study when 
 you exercise it at all ; and exercise it as constantly 
 as is consistent with keeping it in the best state 
 for successful application. While you profess to 
 be a student, regard study as your main business; 
 and make your amusement subordinate, and as 
 far as possible, subservient to it. Recollect that 
 the period allotted to your education is com- 
 paratively short; and that every wasted hour of 
 this golden season will tell fearfully on your future 
 destiny. 
 
 I have just alluded to the fact, and I wish 
 
28 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 here to bring it more distinctly before you, that 
 in order that you may study to the most advantage, 
 part of your time must be devoted to relaxation 
 and exercise — how large a part, your own judgment 
 and experience must decide. Many a young female 
 of great promise has laid the foundation of disease 
 that has carried her prematurely to the grave, by 
 neglecting bodily exercise during the period of her 
 education. And not only has she sacrificed her 
 life to this unfortunate habit, but her intellectual 
 acquisitions have actually been less than if a due 
 proportion of her time had been devoted to the 
 exercise of her bodily powers. Whether, therefore, 
 you regard the preservation of your life and health, 
 or your success in the various branches of study, 
 I earnestly entreat you to subject yourself to a 
 course of daily, systematic exercise. In following 
 this advice, you will be surprised to find how much 
 you will gain in respect to elasticity of spirits and 
 vigour of thought ; and that you will often accom- 
 plish more mental labour in a single hour, than 
 under other circumstances you would accomplish in 
 a day, or even in a week. And more than this, 
 instead of leaving school with a constitution whose 
 resources are more than half exhausted, and with 
 an ominous paleness on your cheek, which seems 
 
EDUCATION — GENERAL DIRECTIONS. 2D 
 
 to say that the grave is ready for you, you will 
 probably come away in the bloom of health, and 
 with strength and resolution to engage in the 
 duties of the station in which Providence may 
 place you. 
 
 Let me say a word, in this connection, in regard 
 to the treatment which is due from you to your 
 instructors. Next to your parents, your instruc- 
 tors, if they are faithful, are most actively engaged 
 in the formation of your character; and they watch 
 over you with a degree of solicitude inferior only 
 to that which belongs to the parental relation. 
 It is obvious, therefore, that not only common 
 propriety, but gratitude, requires that you should 
 treat them with great deference and respect. You 
 are not, indeed, bound to receive every, or any 
 opinion they may express without examination; 
 and you are at liberty, unless for particular reasons 
 they should choose to forbid it, modestly to propose 
 difficulties which may be suggested even by their 
 own instruction; but you are always faithfully to 
 consult their wishes, and yield a ready obedience 
 to their requisitions, and by your kind and respect- 
 ful deportment, to do what you can to diminish 
 the burden of care and perplexity that is inseparable 
 from their employment. I should do you injustice 
 
oO THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 to suppose it possible that you should be guilty 
 of such indecorum as deliberately to trifle with 
 the feelings of your instructors^ or incur their 
 open and direct censure; but your conduct towards 
 them would never satisfy me, unless it should 
 be such as to secure their positive and uniform 
 approbation. 
 
CHAPTEE lY, 
 
 EDUCATIOI? — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 
 
 Having, in a preceding chapter, called your atten- 
 tion to some general views on the subject of 
 education, I intend in this, to enumerate some of 
 the various branches which will naturally be 
 included in your course, and to give you my opinion 
 of their comparative importance. Whatever relates 
 to the' selection and order of your studies, I am 
 willing to leave in a great measure to your instruc- 
 tors, not doubting that they will direct you with 
 good judgment; and I am willing too to leave 
 something to your own taste and inclination ; but 
 as this is a subject which deeply involves the 
 improvement of your mind and the formation of 
 your character, and in which a parent must of course 
 feel a deep interest, you will not wonder that I am 
 disposed to give you briefly the result of my ex- 
 perience and reflection. 
 
 You need not be startled, when I go back to the 
 very elementary branches of an education, and 
 
32 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 begin to talk to you on the simple matter of learning 
 to read. My first advice is, that you should adopt 
 in every respect the tones of nature — the tones 
 which you are accustomed to use in common con- 
 versation. Almost every child contracts at a very 
 early period what is commonly called a reading 
 tone ; a monotonous habit of utterance, which, 
 while it outrages taste and nature, is generally with 
 great difficulty broken up. If you have already 
 contracted this tone in any degree, make it your 
 first object to get rid of it. When you sit down to 
 read, do not think it necessary to assume a more 
 formal or stately mental attitude than if you were 
 sitting down to converse ; and endeavour to utter 
 the sentiments of your author in his language, in 
 the same easy and familiar manner that you would 
 talk of the same sentiments in your own. This of 
 course implies that you read intelligently; that you 
 are able to enter into the spirit of your author, and 
 readily and fully to apprehend his meaning. You 
 can never attain what I wish in this respect by the 
 study of rules ; though these may be of some assist- 
 ance to you : you can only do it by understanding 
 well what you read, and giving yourself up to the 
 simple dictate of nature ; and by often repeated 
 exercises of this kind, yon will acquire the habit 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. S3 
 
 wliich I am recommending. Be careful also tliat 
 you utter each sentence, and every part of each 
 sentence, with perfect distinctness, and in so loud a 
 tone that all you say shall not only be heard, but 
 heard without effort. Guard, on the one hand, 
 against fatiguing the attention of those who listen 
 to you by the excessive rapidity of your utterance, 
 and, on the other, against furnishing them with an 
 apology for going to sleep by your extreme deliber- 
 ation. In a word, let it be your aim to read in 
 such a manner as most deeply to impress the sen- 
 timents of your author, and of course, most effec- 
 tually to secure the attention of your hearers. 
 
 Next to reading comes the equally simple art of 
 Spelling. It is true of this as of every other 
 elementary branch, and if I mistake not, in a higher 
 degree than of any other, that if it be not learned 
 at a very early period, it will probably never be 
 learned at all ; and hence it is not uncommon to 
 find men whose early education was neglected, but 
 who by their own subsequent exertions have risen 
 to the most elevated stations, leaving evidence 
 through life upon everything they write that they 
 do not understand the art of making words out of 
 letters. This indeed may be excused where there 
 has been the want of early advantages j but nothing 
 
34 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 else can render it tolerable. I beg you will make 
 it a point, therefore, as early as possible, to possess 
 yourself of a correct system of orthography. This 
 is a thing to be learned partly by rule, but in a 
 much greater degree by practice ; and without 
 much of the latter, I assure you that you can never 
 arrive at much perfection in this simple but neces- 
 sary department of knowledge. Let me advise you 
 in writing never to run the hazard of committing 
 an orthographical error in a case in respect to which 
 you are in doubt. Always settle the point on the 
 spot, where it is practicable, by reference to some 
 standard authority. In this way you will acquire 
 a habit of correctness, and a particularity of infor- 
 mation which will soon make you independent of 
 dictionaries j whereas by adopting the opposite 
 course, you will not only run the hazard of com- 
 mitting an error in a case in which an error, to say 
 the least, is hardly decent, but you will acquire a 
 habit of inattention to your orthography which may 
 ultimately make it a task for a literary friend to 
 read your composition. 
 
 As for Penmanship, I cannot say that I regard it 
 so important that you should attain to as high excel- 
 lence in it as in either of the preceding branches ; 
 and yet I am desirous that your attainments in this 
 
I 
 
 EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 35 
 
 depavtinent sliould^ at least, be respectable. I sboidd 
 be glad to see yon write an easy and graceful band, 
 and above all I would have it possess the attribute 
 of being legible. A more odd conceit never entered 
 a human head than seems to have got possession of 
 some at the present day — that a hand which puts 
 one’s invention to the torture, is a sure mark of 
 genius. If that be the test, I will only say that I 
 choose to have you run the hazard of being con- 
 sidered a dunce, rather than torment me and your 
 other friends with illegible communications. How 
 much truth there is in the doctrine held by some, 
 that the handwriting indicates the intellectual or 
 moral character, I will not undertake to decide ; but 
 I earnestly hope that you will take up no doctrine 
 nor practice on this subject that will prevent you 
 from being a neat, plain, and, if you please, elegant 
 writer. 
 
 I hardly need say that you can lay no claim to 
 the character of an accomplished scholar until you 
 can speak and •write witk correctness your own 
 language. And in order to this, you must gain 
 a thorough knowledge of English Grammar and 
 Ehetoric. These branches should be so familiar to 
 you that you will, as a matter of course, and with- 
 out even being conscious of it at the time, judge 
 
36 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 every composition you read or hear by grammatical 
 or rhetorical rules; that you will as instantly detect 
 an error in syntax or an error in taste, as a delicate 
 ear would notice a confusion in musical sounds. I 
 know, indeed, there have been those who have writ- 
 ten with great power, and even beauty, who have 
 known nothing of rhetoric or grammar, except as 
 they were taught by nature — whose minds would 
 pour out ^Hhoughts that breathe in words that 
 burn,” with the same apparent ease that a stream 
 flows from its fountain ; but there is no reason to 
 doubt that even these pre-eminently gifted indivi- 
 duals would have done better with the knowledge 
 of which I am speaking than they did without it ; 
 and at any rate they are exceptions from a general 
 rule, and therefore furnish no ground for any general 
 conclusion. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to say that a habit of easy 
 and elegant composition is not to be acquired in 
 ordinary cases without much attention and long 
 continued practice. If you should And, therefore, 
 that your first efforts are rather tame and feeble, if 
 will be no reason why you should be discouraged; 
 for no doubt there are many now on the list of fine 
 writers whose first efibrts were as tame and feeble as 
 yours, Nothing will serve more effectually to im- 
 
EDUCATION — VAEIOUS BRANCHES. 37 
 
 prove your taste, and to give you an easy command 
 of thought and expression than an intimate acquaint- 
 ance with the English classics. You will also, espe- 
 cially in your earlier essays at composition, find it a 
 useful exercise, after you lay aside your book, to 
 commit the thoughts of your author to paper in 
 your own language ; though I hardly need say that 
 you are never to attempt to pass off anything that 
 you produce in this way as your own in any higher 
 sense than it actually is so ; for to say nothing of 
 the immorality of such an act, which I should hope 
 would be sufficient to deter you from it, there is no 
 character in the literary world regarded with more 
 odium than a plagiarist. Kemember that to form a 
 good writer, the first requisite is good thoughts, — 
 the second, a good style. If you can command 
 thoughts which are striking and original, it is all 
 the better, provided they are appropriate; but en- 
 deavour always to be appropriate at any rate. A 
 striking thought, introduced merely because it is 
 striking, and with nothing in the connection to 
 justify it, is a blemish, and not an ornament; an 
 indication both of the lack of judgment and of taste. 
 Whenever you have selected your subject, and have 
 possessed yourself of the necessary information in 
 respect to it^ revolve it thoroughly in your mind, 
 
 D 
 
38 THE lady's own book. 
 
 and see wliat appropriately belongs to it; and then 
 select such thoughts, or trains of thought, as may 
 seem to you on the whole most pertinent and useful. 
 Arrange your thoughts, as far as may be, before you 
 begin to write; and then you will proceed with far 
 more ease, and probably with far more success. Let 
 your subjects be chosen, as far as possible, with refer- 
 ence to the general culture of your mind. It is too 
 much the fashion of the day for girls, in writing 
 their compositions, to imagine themselves surveying 
 some beautiful moonlight scene, or listening to the 
 sound of some magnificent cataract, or contemplat- 
 ing nature in some other of her wild, or sweet, or 
 majestic forms ; — all this may be well enough for an 
 occasional exercise of imagination, but in general I 
 advise you to select subjects of more practical inter- 
 est, — subjects which are adapted to exercise the 
 judgment, the reasoning faculty, and other powers 
 of the mind, and not merely to awaken or improve 
 the fancy. The secret of forming a good style is to 
 throw into it a due proportion of gracefulness and 
 strength. There are a thousand good models which 
 I might recommend to you, but I am not desirous 
 that you should closely study any model as such; 
 the true mode is, to be conversant with as many 
 good writers as you can, and to let your mind 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 39 
 
 operate in its own way, unembarrassed by the pecu- 
 liarities of any. I am always delighted to read a 
 book on which I can see the very image and super- 
 scription of the author’s own mind. 
 
 Of the various kinds of composition there is none, 
 perhaps, to which young females generally are more 
 inclined, and for which they find more occasion, 
 than the epistolatory ; and I must do your sex the 
 justice to say, that in this respect they greatly 
 excel ours under the same advantages. Without 
 saying anything here of the propriety of your cul- 
 tivating a more extensive or a more limited corre- 
 spondence, I would urge upon you the importance 
 of acquiring a good epistolatory style, for this, among 
 other reasons, that it is an accomplishment which is 
 well fitted to make you agreeable to your friends. 
 And the only particular direction which I would 
 give you for acquiring it, supposing you to be atten- 
 tive to the general culture of your mind, is, that you 
 should throw your thoughts on paper with the same 
 ease with which they fall from your lips. When 
 you sit down to write a letter, imagine that you are 
 sitting down to talk to a friend ; and if you adopt a 
 style of elegant conversation, you Vfill adopt the 
 very best style for a correspondence. 
 
 You will not understand me as prescribiug any 
 
40 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 exact order for your studies, when I mention, next. 
 Arithmetic. I need hardly say that this is impoi’- 
 tant, not so much in the common acceptation of the 
 word, as an accomplishment, as it is for the every 
 day practical purposes of life ; so that there is hardly 
 a condition in which you can suppose yourself placed 
 but that your ignorance of this branch must, at 
 some time or other, subject you not only to sad mor- 
 tification, but sore inconvenience. Of the new mode 
 of calculating, commonly called mental arithmetic, 
 I am unable to speak from much practical know- 
 ledge; but I must confess that the results of this 
 mode of teaching, which I have witnessed, even in 
 small children, have surprised me ; and I have no 
 doubt that it is the most easy and successful mode 
 of communicating this kind of knowledge which has 
 yet been discovered. But leaving to your instruc- 
 tors to decide in respect to the best manner of your 
 studying arithmetic, I must insist that you make 
 thorough work of it; inasmuch that no calculation 
 which you will have occasion to make will ever 
 embarrass you. 
 
 As to the higher branches of Mathematics, if you 
 have even a common relish for them, I think you 
 may pursue them to some extent with advantage. 
 If you are passionately fond of them, I would say 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 
 
 41 
 
 ■unliesitatingly, better prosecute them so far as in- 
 clination may dictate and opportunity admit. But 
 if your taste points you decidedly to a different 
 course of study, and you find nothing in this branch 
 to attract or interest you, why then I would consent 
 that your mathematical studies should be arrested 
 at almost any point you please, after you have be- 
 come thoroughly acquainted with common arith- 
 metic. Algebra and Geometry, however, it were 
 certainly desirable, should come into your course; 
 and if you have intelligently advanced thus far, it is 
 more than probable that your inclination will lead 
 you still further. It is scarcely possible that you 
 will ever be placed in circumstances in which these 
 higher branches will come into direct use ; neverthe- 
 less you may advantageously study them simply as 
 a matter of intellectual discipline. It is an admir- 
 able way of learning to think on general subjects 
 with precision, and to reason with clearness and 
 force. 
 
 Of Geography, I surely need not say anything to 
 you in the way of urging its importance, or recom- 
 mending it to your attention. When studied intel- 
 ligently, and with the proper helps, it possesses 
 attractions to most minds which are irresistible. 
 And to say nothing of the interest which belongs to 
 
42 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 it in itself considered, it is, as I tliink Lord Chester- 
 field remarks, one of the eyes of history. You will 
 make yourself familiar with the earth, not only as 
 it is known to the moderns, hut as it was known to 
 the ancients — as a preparation for the study both of 
 ancient and -modern history. It is scarcely neces- 
 sary to add that your acquisitions in this department 
 of knowledge must be made principally from the 
 map or the globe; as all impressions which you 
 derive in any other way will be comparatively feeble 
 and evanescent. The construction of maps also you 
 will find a pleasant exercise, while it will serve to 
 render your geographical knowledge more distinct 
 and abiding. 
 
 I have adverted to History. This I would have 
 you study, not merely with a view to gratify curi- 
 osity, but as containing an instructive record of 
 human actions, and as furnishing an important 
 means of becoming acquainted with the operations 
 of the human heart; for what the nature of man 
 has been, so it is now; and its operations are the 
 same, making due allowance for diversity of circum- 
 stances. In your attention to this branch, I would 
 advise you first to make yourself thoroughly ac- 
 quainted with some judicious outline of history; and 
 so far as possible to fill up every part of the outline 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 43 
 
 by your subsequent reading. In no branch of study 
 will you need the aid of system more than this ; and 
 though you may accumulate materials without end, 
 yet if you fail to reduce them to order, so that they 
 shall be in your mind as so many distinct and well 
 arranged classes of facts, you will be able to use 
 them to little advantage. While I would have you 
 familiar with every part of history, both ancient and 
 modern, I would recommend a special attention to 
 the history of your own country. 
 
 Next to History, perhaps, may properly come 
 Mental and Moral Philosophy. These are, indeed, 
 distinct branches, but as they both relate to the 
 essential constitution of man, they may properly 
 enough be noticed together. If you will prosecute 
 them vfith success, you must bring to your aid much 
 patient reflection; for you may rest assured that any 
 superficial attention to these branches will be to no 
 purpose. Every principle laid down in your text 
 book you must test by a reference to your own in- 
 tellectual or moral constitution; and if you find a 
 disagreement between the principle, as it is stated 
 by your author, and as it exists in your own bosom, 
 you have reason to inquire whether your author be 
 not in the wrong; for the original principles of 
 human nature, and the operation of these principles, 
 
i 
 
 44 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 are substantially the same in persons of every class. 
 The study of these branches conducted in this way, 
 you will readily perceive, is only the study of human 
 character and human duty ; and surely this cannot 
 be unworthy to employ your faculties, whether as an 
 intellectual being, or as a probationer for eternity. 
 
 Some degree of attention you may properly bestow 
 upon Mechanical Philosophy and Chemistry. These, 
 together with kindred sciences which come under 
 the general department of Natural History, while 
 they answer important practical purposes, are admir- 
 ably adapted to enlarge our views of the wisdom, 
 and power, and goodness of the Creator. If your 
 circumstances should permit, and your taste should 
 incline you, to bestow some attention upon several 
 of the bramches of natural science, I should not 
 object to it, but if you should confine yourself to one 
 or two. Mechanical Philosophy and Chemistry would 
 probably best reward your efibrts. 
 
 As to Modern Languages, I am not particularly 
 desirous that you should aim at very high attain- 
 ments. Of the French I should be glad to have 
 you acquire so much knowledge that you can 
 read it with fluency and correctness ; but as for 
 Spanish, Italian, and other modern languages, there 
 is so little in them which it were worth your 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 45 
 
 while to read, that you have my full consent for 
 never opening a grammar of either. The dead 
 languages I do not regard as constituting an im- 
 portant part of female education ; and yet, if your 
 taste should incline you to it, I confess I should 
 be gratified to see you able to converse with the 
 mighty dead of Grecian and Koman fame, and 
 still more to see you able to read the Scriptures 
 in the languages in which they were dictated by 
 the Holy Ghost. This last I know is a rare 
 acquisition for a young lady, but it is one which, 
 in my eye at least, always serves to elevate her 
 character. 
 
 I cannot conclude this list of studies without 
 recommending to you a careful attention to the 
 evidences of Christianity; and I rejoice to find, 
 that in some of our female seminaries, this is already 
 recognized as a distinct branch of education. Every 
 part of this subject is full of interest ; but no part 
 of it, perhaps, grows upon the mind so much on 
 refiection, as that which relates immediately to 
 the Word itself — what is popularly termed the 
 internal evidence. Nearly identified with the study 
 of this is the study of the doctrines of the Gospel ; 
 and I earnestly hope the time is not far distant 
 when a knowledge of some outline of Scripture 
 
46 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 truths or wliat, perhaps, is still better, the Bible 
 itself, will be considered essential to a complete 
 female education. 
 
 You perceive I have said nothing of merely 
 ornamental branches. The reason is, not that I 
 regard them as absolutely unimportant, but only 
 comparatively so. I am willing, if your circum- 
 stances admit, that you should attend to Drawing, 
 Painting, or Music, or all of them, provided only 
 you have a natural taste for them, and do not 
 suffer them to interfere with your improvement 
 in more important branches. I say, if you have 
 a taste for them; for nothing seems to me more 
 ridiculous than for a girl utterly destitute of taste, 
 to spend months in trying to learn the use of 
 the pencil, while neither she nor her friends are 
 to reap any other reward of her labours, than is 
 found in the awkward result of having a few 
 pictures to amuse, or, as the case may be, to frighten 
 her younger sisters. If you have a talent for music, 
 I am more than willing that you should cultivate it ; 
 for it will not only supply you with innocent, 
 and I may say, elegant amusement, but it may 
 often banish melancholy from your mind, and refresh 
 and invigorate the spirits of your friends. But, I 
 repeat, let every accomplishment of this kind be 
 
EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES. 
 
 47 
 
 suffered to hold only its proper place. If you 
 find that your attention to these, or any kindred 
 branches, is at any time making you indifferent 
 to the more solid parts of your education, especially 
 if you find that it serves to cherish in you a spirit of 
 vanity, and to diminish your interest in the realities 
 of religion, you need no better evidence that it 
 has become excessive, and that, however innocent 
 these things may be in themselves, there is danger 
 that you will pervert them to your injury or ruin. 
 
CHAPTEE Y. 
 
 EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 
 
 However mucli you may be distinguished for intel- 
 lectual cultivation, or for proficiency in the more 
 refined and ornamental brandies, you can make 
 no claim to a complete education, unless you are 
 well acquainted with Domestic Economy. I am 
 aware that this is a subject which, from some cause 
 or other, many young females regard with strong 
 aversion ; and there is reason to fear that, in too 
 many instances, this aversion is heightened by 
 receiving, in some degree, the parental sanction; 
 but you may rely on it there cannot be a greater 
 mistake on the subject of female education, than 
 to suppose that this branch of it may with safety 
 be neglected. With regard to the extent to which 
 you should be informed on this subject, I would 
 say, in general, that you ought to have so much 
 knowledge of it, as will enable you to regulate 
 with advantage the concerns of a family. There 
 are, indeed, some of the domestic arts which you 
 
EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 49 
 
 can hardly le expected to acquire; and which^ in 
 the ordinary walks of domestic life, may not be 
 important ; but whatever relates to the immediate 
 superintendence and direction of household con- 
 cerns, you cannot neglect, without exposing yourself 
 to inconvenience, which no future exertions may 
 be able completely to remedy. 
 
 It is important that you should cultivate a taste 
 for the management of domestic concerns as early 
 as possible. As no part of your education is more 
 practical than this, it were unsafe to neglect it 
 even for a short period; as the consequence of such 
 neglect would probably be^ — that you would form 
 other habits uncongenial with domestic employ- 
 ments, and which, perhaps, might give you an 
 aversion to them which you would never overcome. 
 Do not consider it a hardship, therefore, to be 
 placed in circumstances which favour your atten- 
 tion to this subject, and even demand your active 
 exertions. Every item of this kind of knowledge 
 which you gain, you will be able, hereafter, to 
 turn to some practical account, which will com- 
 pensate many fold for the labour of attaining it. 
 
 It is not uncommon for young females in the 
 higher walks of life, to satisfy themselves in the 
 neglect of this branch of education, on the ground 
 
50 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 that their lot is cast in circumstances of opulence 
 and splendour. If this excuse could ever he sus- 
 tained, you have no right to expect that your 
 condition in life will allow you to avail yourself of it : 
 but the truth is that it cannot be admitted in any 
 case. For what if Providence should actually place 
 you in circumstances of wealth, and what the world 
 calls independence? Would you not still be as truly 
 accountable to God for all your possessions, as 
 though you had been limited to a moderate com- 
 petence? FTay, would not your responsibility be 
 increased just in proportion to the abundance which 
 had been bestowed upon you? This, therefore, 
 instead of being an argument for the neglect of the 
 domestic part of your education, is actually a reason 
 why you should attend to it with the greater care : 
 for if a profusion of the bounties of heaven are 
 intrusted to your management, and you are respon- 
 sible for the proper improvement of them all, is it 
 not pre-eminently desirable that you should possess 
 that knowledge which will enable you to acquit 
 yourself as a faithful steward ? 
 
 But if you leave the idea of accountability 
 entirely out of the question, there are still other 
 reasons of great weight why this part of your 
 education should not be neglected. Without a 
 
EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 51 
 
 proper attention to it, you can never be qualified 
 to preside in the concerns of a family. Though you 
 should be placed in a station which might enable 
 you to command all the conveniences and assistance 
 which opulence can furnish, you will never feel at 
 home in your own house, unless you have yourself 
 that practical knowledge which will enable you to 
 keep your house in order. You cannot realize half 
 the value of your domestic aid, unless you are 
 capable of exercising a general superintendence, and 
 giving proper directions ; and without such ability, 
 you will be liable to constant impositions from 
 those to whom you will be obliged to confide 
 interests which ought to remain exclusively in 
 your own hands. Many a large estate has been 
 squandered, and many a family reduced to want, in 
 consequence of a deficiency in this part of female 
 education. 
 
 Let me add, if Providence should ever place you 
 at the head of a family, and you are obliged, from 
 ignorance of domestic economy, to intrust its con- 
 cerns to another, you cannot maintain the dignity 
 which appropriately belongs to such a station. You 
 will be subject to a thousand painful mortifications 
 from discovering that your concerns are improperly 
 managed, and yet being unable to suggest the 
 
52 THE LADY’S OWN BOOK. 
 
 proper remedy j and though you may try to flatter 
 yourself that your ignorance on this subject may 
 pass for evidence of a genteel education, it is more 
 than probable that the unsavoury food which will 
 sometimes chance to be placed before your guests, 
 will lead them to regret that you happened to 
 possess so unfortunate an accomplishment. 
 
 What I have said hitherto on this subject has 
 been principally upon the supposition that you are 
 to be placed in circumstances of external ease and 
 affluence. But I hardly need say that this is by 
 no means certain. Even if your prospects in this 
 respect should be fair at the commencement of 
 domestic life, there are a thousand changes which 
 may await you, any one of which may cast around 
 you the gloom and desolation of heart-breaking 
 poverty. I could tell you of many who have begun 
 life without a cloud being seen to settle upon their 
 temporal prospects, and have closed it in all the 
 degradation and wretchedness which the most abject 
 want could occasion. It is impossible to tell what 
 scenes of adversity the changes of life may bring 
 with them ; it is unquestionably the part of 
 wisdom that you should be prepared for any lot 
 to which Providence may call you. What then if 
 you should be destined in a few years to the obscure 
 
EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 
 
 53 
 
 and liumble walks of poverty? What if, from a 
 comfortable competence you should sink to a con- 
 dition upon which you have hitherto been scarcely 
 able to look without feelings of compassion and 
 tears of sympathy ? What if you should see around 
 you a little defenceless family, and all the dreaded 
 evils of poverty clustering upon them in melancholy 
 profusion ? And what if, in the midst of all these 
 circumstances of external depression, you should be 
 found incapable of devising a plan or lifting a hand 
 for the relief or comfort of yourself and family ? In 
 supposing this case, believe me, I am not dealing 
 in fiction : I have seen an elegant, accomplished 
 female, brought up in the lap of luxury, in these 
 very circumstances : and who knows but that such 
 a case may be their own ? Sure I am that another 
 argument cannot be necessary to impress you with the 
 importance of the subject I am endeavouring to urge. 
 
 And now if I have gained your conviction to the 
 importance of this branch of education, let me 
 repeat the request that you will begin without 
 delay to make it a practical matter. I know indeed 
 that much depends in this case on maternal atten- 
 tion and efibrt ; but I know too that there is in 
 some young females an aversion to domestic employ- 
 ments which a mother’s persevering exertions do 
 
 E 
 
54 : 
 
 THE LADY S OWN BOOK. 
 
 not overcome ; and I also know that little improve- 
 ment can reasonably be expected in any department 
 of knowledge, in wkich the mind does not act not 
 only without constraint, but with alacrity. And I 
 beg you to bear in mind that the knowledge of 
 which I am speaking is to be acquired only in one 
 way; and that by actual experience. You may 
 study the science of domestic economy as carefully 
 as you will, and you may receive lessons from 
 experienced and skilful managers, and after all you 
 will be little wiser, till you come down to the actual 
 reality of participating in the every-day concerns of 
 a family. When you actually put your hand to the 
 work, you will begin to learn ; but unless you put 
 your hand to it frequently, and learn to think it 
 no dishonour to engage in anything appertaining 
 to the economy of a family, you can never expect to 
 become an accomplished housekeeper. In a pre- 
 ceding chapter I have urged upon you the im- 
 portance of taking a good degree of exercise : let 
 me here say that you cannot comply with that 
 direction to better purpose than by spending a part 
 of every day in domestic employments. And while 
 it will secure to you the benefit of relaxation from 
 your studies, and of the exercise of your bodily 
 povrers, it Avill be an effectual — tlie only effectual 
 
EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 
 
 55 
 
 means of preparing you to appear with honour and 
 usefulness in this department, as the head of a 
 family. 
 
 In connection with this general subject I have a 
 word to say in respect to the regulation of your 
 expenses. In all your dealings I would have you 
 a, void even the appearance of being parsimonious; 
 let no one ever have just occasion to say, in respect 
 to any pecuniary transaction of yours, that it has 
 not been perfectly liberal and honourable. ISTever- 
 theless there is an ostentation of liberality which 
 I would have you carefully avoid ; for it is really 
 a contemptible quality, and so the world regards it. 
 There is also in some young females a spirit of 
 extravagance — a disposition to incur expenses which 
 their condition in life neither demands nor justifies 
 ' — another quality which deserves severe reprobation. 
 Let your expenditures be regulated, not merely by 
 a regard to your ability, but to your accountability 
 as a steward of the divine bounty. Kegard economy 
 as a virtue, and never be unwilling to be seen in 
 the practice of it. It is honourable to contract 
 your personal expenses as far as you may, that you 
 may thereby have the more ability to succour the 
 needy and distressed. 
 
 I will close this chapter by suggesting a hint or 
 
THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 5G 
 
 two on tlie subject of dress ; as it is in relation to 
 tliis^ more perhaps than anything else, that most 
 young females are tempted to indulge in extra- 
 vagance. I would always have you appear in this 
 respect neat and decent, and do not care how much 
 correct taste you display; but I beg you to avoid 
 all gaudy and superfluous ornament. It is a good 
 rule to follow the fashion in dress just so far that 
 you shall not be marked as singular. But you may 
 rely on it, that a disposition to take the lead in 
 fashions, to shine forth in splendid apparel, and 
 a gaudy glare of lace and gold, is always taken, 
 with discerning people, as proof of a weak head 
 or a proud heart. In the circle of my acquaintance 
 there is a family of young ladies who have a 
 fortune which few females in this country have 
 ever inherited. They have been educated in a 
 style of princely liberality; and, I may say, with 
 the voice of all their acquaintances to sustain me, 
 that they are the ornament of their sex. These 
 young ladies have their hearts and hands open 
 to every object of charity within their reach; but 
 in their dress there are scarcely any females in 
 the surrounding population, who are equally simple 
 and unpretending. And who, think you, regards 
 them the less for this trait in their character? 
 
EDUCATION — DOMESTIC ECONOMY. 57 
 
 Believe me, every one regards them the more. 
 There is in it a charming simplicity — a right 
 estimate of things, which attracts universal ad- 
 miratioiu 
 
CHAPTER YI. 
 
 GENERAL READING. 
 
 In the courrse of your education, and after it is com- 
 pleted, you will occasionally find leisure to devote to 
 miscellaneous reading. As this is one of the prin- 
 cipal means by which you will become acquainted 
 with the sentiments of others, you will readily per- 
 ceive that it cannot but exert, either for good or 
 evil, an important influence on your character. It 
 is the design of this chapter to furnish you with some 
 hints which may assist you to regulate this employ- 
 ment, so that it shall be at once the most useful and 
 the most agreeable. 
 
 And the first suggestion which I would offer on 
 this subject is, that all your reading should be, as 
 far as possible, with some definite object, other than 
 merely to occupy your time. If you have no object 
 in view, you may be sure that you will accomplish 
 none ; and thus your reading will be at best a mere 
 waste of time, and not improbably will be fraught 
 with positive intellectual or moral evil. When you 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 59 
 
 take up a book^ decide if you can^ from its title, 
 or its table of contents, what good purpose you 
 can accomplish by reading it; what faculties of 
 your mind it will be likely to improve; or what 
 moral dispositions to refine or elevate; and having 
 settled this point, if the book be worthy of your 
 attention you can hardly fail to be benefited by 
 reading it. 
 
 Another remark closely connected with the pre- 
 ceding is, that you should never allow yoimself to 
 read without reflection. There is no habit more 
 easily acquired than that of occupying the eye merely 
 upon an author, and leaving the mind to its own 
 wanderings; and there is scarcely any habit which, 
 in the end, more completely unstrings the intellect, 
 and renders it incapable of commanding its own 
 powers. The legitimate design of reading is, not to 
 supersede but to assist reflection, — not to put the 
 faculties to sleep, but to brighten them by active 
 exercise. Different books, it is acknowledged, re- 
 quire different degrees of mental exertion ; but you 
 may take it for granted that a book which is not 
 worth the labour of some thought is not worth the 
 labour of reading. Whatever book you may have 
 in hand, let your mind be just as intensely employed 
 as is necessary to enable you to realize the full 
 
GO 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 advantage of reading it, — -that is, to enable you to 
 comprehend its full meaning, and to give it, so far 
 as may be desirable or practicable, a lodgment in 
 your memory. If you find your thoughts at any 
 time wandering obstinately from your author, and 
 if no effort will bring them under your control, so 
 that you can read to advantage (and such cases will 
 sometimes occur from mere physical derangement), 
 better lay aside your book than to continue reading 
 in this attitude of mental vacancy. You will be 
 none the wiser for what you read, and you may be 
 forming an intellectual habit which will diminish 
 your power of acquiring wisdom in more favourable 
 circumstances. 
 
 It follows, from the remark just made, that you 
 should be on your guard against reading too much. 
 There is such a thing as a diseased intellectual appe- 
 tite, which craves an excess of food, and is only 
 satisfied with devouring everything that comes in its 
 'way. But to indulge such an appetite were just as 
 preposterous as to think of nourishing the body by 
 taking a quantity of food which should altogether 
 exceed the digestive powers of the system. If you 
 would read to advantage, you must incorporate what 
 you read with your own thoughts, and gather from 
 it materials for future reflection. But this you can 
 
GENERAL READING. G1 
 
 never do if your whole time be occupied in reading, 
 or if you take up one volume after another in such 
 rapid succession that your mind can retain no dis- 
 tinct impression of the contents of any of them. 
 Some of the minds which have shone most brilliantly 
 have been but little occupied with books, being far 
 more conversant with their own thoughts than the 
 thoughts of others. Bemember that a few books 
 carefully read, and thoroughly digested, and used as 
 helps to intellectual exertion, will be of far more use 
 to you than scores of volumes which are gone 
 through with little thought, and the contents of 
 which either instantly pass out of the mind, or 
 remain in it an undigested mass of materials. 
 
 But while you should avoid reading too much, it 
 is desirable that of the books v/hich you do read, 
 you should form a habit of selecting and treasuring 
 up those parts which are most important. You can- 
 not expect to retain the whole of any book; and if 
 you should attempt it you would probably lose the 
 whole by tasking your memory so severely; but 
 even if it were possible, it would ordinarily be to no 
 good purpose, as there is much in almost every book 
 which might be in your mind without at all increas- 
 ing your stock of useful knowledge. That you may 
 possess yourself of the substance of what you read, 
 
62 THE LADY^S OWN BOOK. 
 
 make it a point to review your author before you lay 
 him aside, and form an analysis at least in your own 
 mind of all that you have been reading. It will be 
 well, too, if you commit to paper a general outline 
 of every important book you read ; or at least that 
 you make references on a blank page to those parts 
 to which you may afterwards wish to recur. Some 
 such expedient as this will be of great use in assist- 
 ing your recollection, and will help you to retain 
 stores of knowledge which would otherwise be inevit- 
 ably lost from your memory. 
 
 You will, moreover, find great advantage in 
 having the different departments of literature and 
 science, with which you are conversant, so far 
 systematized in your mind that you will be able to 
 refer every book that you read to some one of them. 
 In this way your mind will become an intellectual 
 storehouse, accommodated to the reception of every 
 kind of useful materials ; and its various apartments 
 arranged with so much skill and order that you will 
 never be at a loss where to deposit any new article 
 of knowledge, or where to find any you had previ- 
 ously deposited. On the other hand, if you read 
 without any regard to order, as it respects your pre- 
 vious acquisitions, the impressions which are made 
 upon your mind will be vague and indistinct : and 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 63 
 
 after a little wliile the severest efforts will be ineffec- 
 tual to recall them. 
 
 Having thrown out these few hints in respect to 
 the manner of your reading, suffer me now to add 
 some brief suggestions in respect to the selection of 
 books. 
 
 And, first of all, let me say to you, never allow 
 yourself from any consideration to read books of 
 immoral tendency. A bad book, like a bad friend, 
 may exert an influence which an established habit 
 of virtue will scarcely be able to resist ; and where 
 a corrupt association is once formed in the mind, it 
 is exceedingly difficult to destroy it ; it remains there 
 a leprous spot, usually bidding defiance to every- 
 thing but the power of divine grace. Wliett though 
 a book of this character may fall into your hands, 
 which is rendered peculiarly attractive by a refined 
 and fascinating style] You are to bear in mind, 
 that these literary embellishments can no more 
 disarm false principles of their fatal tendency than 
 poison can lose its virulence by being mingled with 
 honey. Hay, these very attractions give to bad 
 books much of their dangerous influence ; for while 
 they recommend them to the attention of the incau- 
 tious and inexperienced, they too often serve as a 
 channel tlirough which the most deadly impressions 
 
64 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 are conveyed to tlie mind. And if the reading of 
 such books were the only way in which you could 
 gain the refinement of literature, then I would say, 
 better remain in ignorance for ever than hazard the 
 wreck of your moral principles, or admit into your 
 heart the elements of destruction. 
 
 But while you carefully avoid all works which are 
 fitted in any degree to corrupt the principles, or 
 sully the purity of the mind, I w^ould have you select 
 those which, on the whole, are best adapted to 
 increase your stock of useful knowledge and practical 
 wisdom. In the wide range of elegant literature 
 there is a great variety of authors, who will at 
 once enlighten your understanding, improve your 
 taste, and exert an influence upon your heart favour- 
 able to virtue and piety. The entire works of Mrs. 
 More, the pride and glory of your sex, you cannot 
 read too often or too attentively. They contain a 
 system of moral instruction particularly adapted to 
 young females, which has, perhaps, never had a 
 parallel in any age or country. 
 
 It is an error against which you should be on 
 your guard in the selection of your reading, to con- 
 fine yourself exclusively to books of a particular 
 kind. The effect of this would be to corrupt your 
 taste, to destroy the proportion which exists among 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 CD 
 
 tlie various powers of your mind, and, as the case 
 may be, to expose you to serious inconvenience and 
 mortification. That you may avoid this evil, endea- 
 vour to be conversant with those authors who have 
 been most conspicuous in the various departments 
 of literature. Such a course will be likely to give 
 you a correct and dignified taste, at the same time 
 that it will impart a general consistency and vigour 
 to your intellectual character. 
 
 Though I have no wish that you should be an 
 enthusiast with regard to poetry, I would still have 
 you, in some degree, familiar with the best poets, 
 both of ancient and modern date. The immortal 
 works of Milton, Cowper, and Thomson may be read 
 with great advantage to the heart as well as the 
 understanding. But there are others usually asso- 
 ciated in the same cluster of poetical genius who, how- 
 ever exquisite their poetry, cannot be safely recom- 
 mended as guides to youthful virtue. Much of the 
 modern poetry, I am sorry to say, is chargeable with 
 the same immoral tendency. Byron, with a genius to 
 which few, whether of ancient or modern days, can 
 lay claim, has clouded his brilliant and beautiful con- 
 ceptions with the dark hue of infidelity and moral 
 death ; and so long as his writings last they must 
 stand as a monument of a noble intellect prostituted 
 
66 
 
 THE LIDY’s own book. 
 
 to the worst of all purposes — that of corrupting and 
 destroying his fellow-men. Moore, with less of 
 genius than Byi^on, has written, for the most part, 
 for no better purpose ; and it were far worse than a 
 waste of time to employ yourself upon his produc- 
 tions. Even the poetry of Walter Scott, though 
 it has much in it to delight the imagination, is 
 greatly deficient in moral sentiment, and seems 
 scarcely fitted for any higher purposes than to fur- 
 nish a light kind of amusement. James Montgomery 
 belongs to an entirely different class, — or rather he 
 stands nearly alone; and I have no hesitation in 
 assigning to him a pre-eminence among the poets of 
 the present day. With an invention uncommonly 
 fertile in whatever is chaste and beautiful, he unites a 
 deep and strong religious sensibility; and in reading 
 his poetry, you see not less of the Christian than of 
 the poet ; you feel that your imagination and all your 
 powers are in communion with an exalted genius, 
 while you seem to breathe a pure moral atmosphere, 
 and to have your soul attracted towards a region of 
 perfect purity. I might mention also the lamented 
 Pollock, who lived long enough to show that God 
 had given him noble powers, and that he was dis- 
 posed to employ them in his Master’s service; who 
 wrote but little, but in that little has erected for 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 67 
 
 liimself a bright and enduring monument. So too 
 I might speak of Mrs. Hemans, whose poetry is the 
 subject of much and deserved praise j and of many 
 others of various degrees of merit; all of whom are 
 unexceptionable in their moral tendency. But it is 
 unnecessary that I should enlarge on this subject, 
 as I have no doubt that with the hints already given 
 I may safely leave it to your own taste and judg- 
 ment. 
 
 As for dramatic writers, I cannot say that I am 
 desirous that you should cultivate a taste for them. 
 The plays of Shakspeare are incomparably the finest 
 specimen of dramatic genius which the English lan- 
 guage preserves; and it cannot be denied that they 
 exliibit human life and manners with great power, 
 and beauty, and effect; but it is equally unques- 
 tionable that there is much in them to call into 
 exercise the worst passions of human nature, to 
 tarnish the purity of the mind, and to beget a kind 
 of profane familiarity with tilings of high and sacred 
 import. I should expect, therefore, that the loss 
 you would sustain from reading them, in point of 
 moral feeling, would be greater than any advantage 
 you would gain in respect to intellectual improve- 
 ment. And on no account could I consent to your 
 reading them, unless it were under the direction of 
 
68 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 some judicious friend, who would select for you the 
 parts which are most unexceptionable. Addison, 
 Young, and a few others have written plays, which 
 may, perhaps, be considered unexceptionable; but I 
 must confess I should feel no regret if you should 
 think it best to dispense with this class of authors 
 altogether. 
 
 But there is no species of reading to which young 
 females are usually more inclined, or from which 
 they are so much in danger, as that of novels. I 
 will not say that there are no works of this kind 
 which indicate a tone of correct moral feeling, and 
 which are of unexceptionable moral tendency. Nor 
 will I take it upon me to pass severe judgment upon 
 many persons of great excellence who have indulged 
 in this kind of reading, on the ground that it fur- 
 nishes many important lessons in respect to the 
 operations of the human heart. But I must say, 
 after an attentive consideration of this subject, and 
 withal, after having once held a somewhat different 
 opinion, that I do not wish you ever to read a novel. 
 For admit that the novels of Bichardson, and some 
 of the modern novels of Scott, and a few others, 
 abound with critical views of human nature, and 
 contain many specimens of eloquent writing; and 
 in their direct moral influence may be regarded as 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 69 
 
 harmless — I cannot doubt that the time which you 
 would occupy in reading them might be employed to 
 better purpose in studying the actual realities of 
 life, as they are exhibited by the biographer or the 
 historian; and, moreover, there is danger, if you 
 begin to read works of fiction with an intention to 
 read but few, and to confine yourself to the better 
 class, that your relish for these productions will 
 increase till you can scarcely feel at home unless the 
 pages of a novel are spread out before you; and 
 what is still more to be dreaded, that you will read 
 indiscriminately the most corrupt as well as the least 
 exceptionable. You may rest assured that a charac- 
 ter formed under the influence of novel reading is 
 miserably fitted for any of the purposes of practical 
 life. The imagination being hereby wrought into a 
 feverish state, gains the ascendancy over the judg- 
 ment, and a thousand bright visions rise up before 
 the mind, which experience proves to be unreal 
 This species of reading, moreover, inspires a disgust 
 for the sober and practical realities in which we 
 have to mingle ; and what is worse than all, it often 
 closes every avenue through which the awful truths 
 of religion can be conveyed to the heart. I say, 
 then, as you would avoid forming a character which 
 
 combines all the elements of insipidity, corruption, 
 F 
 
70 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 and moral death, beware of the reading of novels. 
 Many a young female has been obliged to trace to 
 this cause the destruction of her principles, her 
 character, and ultimately her life; and if she have 
 escaped these greater evils, she is still unfitted for 
 solid intellectual enjoyment, and for a life of active 
 usefulness. 
 
 I would have you bestow considerable attention 
 on the periodical publications of the day, though 
 you ought here, as much as in any department 
 of literature, to read with discrimination. Of these 
 publications you need not be told that there is 
 every variety, from the dignified quarterly, that 
 exercises an almost unlimited sway in the region 
 of taste and letters, down to the contemptible 
 catchpenny paper, that lives by circulating slander 
 and falsehood. It would be well, if your circum- 
 stances should permit, that you should accustom 
 yourself regularly to read some of the best reviews. 
 But in reading these publications, even the best of 
 them, you ought not tamely to surrender your 
 own judgment of an author to the dictation of 
 these literary censors; but to let their opinion pass 
 for only what it is worth; and if it has been 
 formed under the influence of partiality, or pre- 
 judice, to let it pass for nothing. Of religious 
 
GENEHAL READING. 
 
 1 
 
 periodicals it may be well for you to select one 
 from eacli of tlie most important classes; as, for 
 instance, one tbat is devoted to theological review 
 and discussion, one to missionary intelligence, &c. 
 Ey selecting your reading, of this kind, with care, 
 and keeping yourself within certain limits, you 
 will gain far more information, and with much 
 less labour, than if you were to devour, indis- 
 criminately, every periodical that should fall in 
 your way. 
 
 You will find it a useful employment, occa- 
 sionally, to read judicious books of travels. It 
 happens, unfortunately, that most works of this 
 kind seem to have been written with too little 
 regard to truth; and instead of having the sober 
 results of actual experience, we have had the wild, 
 and wonderful, and sometimes ridiculous sallies of 
 the writer’s imagination. There is, probably, no 
 species of writing, in respect to which you ought 
 to make more abatement from glaring and mar- 
 vellous statements than this ; not only because 
 authors of this kind, from their rapid observations, 
 are often liable to mistake, but because certainty 
 lias such an advantage over conjecture, that they 
 are under a strong temptation not only to speak, 
 but to speak positively, where it would be honest 
 
72 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 for them to confess that they know nothing. We 
 are perfectly aware how much the character of 
 our own country has been traduced, and held up 
 to ridicule, by travellers from abroad; and it is 
 fair to conclude that much that professes to be 
 the record of travels in other countries, is equally 
 at war with truth and justice. Some of the best 
 books of foreign travels have been written by 
 missionaries, and I doubt not that it is from this 
 source that we are hereafter to gain our most 
 accurate knowledge of the population, the manners, 
 and general statistics of other countries. 
 
 Biography is a species of reading which is well 
 fitted to amuse, while it instructs you. It brings 
 out before you the human character, and often 
 in circumstances of the deepest interest; and holds 
 up a mirror in which you may see the operations 
 of your own heart. I regret to say that well 
 executed and attractive works of this kind are 
 far less common in the English language than 
 could be desired. Within a few years, however, 
 the number has considerably increased, and there 
 is reason to hope that this deficiency in our litera- 
 ture will, ere long, be supplied. Whenever you 
 engage in this kind of reading, endeavour to turn 
 it to some account in the improvement of your 
 
GENERAL READING. 
 
 73 
 
 heart. Whatever excellence you discover in the 
 character you are contenij^lating, endeavour to make 
 it your own; whatever error^ fortify yourself against 
 it with renewed vigilance ; whatever weakness, see 
 whether it be not the besetting infirmity of your 
 own nature ; whatever victory over temptation, 
 whatever serenity amidst sorrow, whatever triumph 
 in death, let it lift your eye and your heart upward, 
 for that Almighty grace by which those blessings 
 are secured. The reading of Biography in this 
 way I most cordially recommend, as it cannot fail 
 to make you wiser and better. 
 
 You will anticipate me when I say that I wish 
 you to be conversant with the best works on 
 Theology. In many of the old writers of the 
 seventeenth century, Avhich are now little read, 
 at least by females, you will find treasures of 
 thought and devotion which would amj)ly reward 
 you for the labour of examining them. Owen, 
 Baxter, Flavel, Charnock, Bates, and Howe, though 
 they possess, indeed, different degrees of merit, yet 
 are all rich in evangelical sentiment, and some 
 of them distinguished by a bold and powerful 
 eloquence. The entire works of any of these 
 authors are voluminous, and, perhaps, not easily 
 accessible ; but some of the most popular and useful 
 
74 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 treatises of each of them, and of many others of 
 the same school, are within your reach, and may 
 be read without occupying an undue portion of 
 your time. If I should mention any one as de- 
 serving a preference above the rest, I think it 
 would be Howe. There is in his writings a majesty 
 of conception, and a deep current of devotional 
 feeling, which I look for in vain, in the same 
 degree, in almost any other writer. 
 
 I wish you to read attentively, at least, one 
 system of Theology. Mere miscellaneous reading 
 on theological subjects, however useful it may be, 
 can never give you a distinct and connected view 
 of the great system of revealed truth. There is 
 no work, within my knowledge, so well adapted 
 to answer this purpose, as the admirable system 
 of Theology by the late President Dwight. It. 
 may look a little formidable to you at first, but 
 I am almost sure that if you once engage in reading 
 it, you will not be impatient to find its close. 
 While the subjects are arranged with philosophical 
 accuracy, they are discussed v/ith a degree of per- 
 spicuity, force, and eloquence, for which, I think, 
 you will look in vain in any similar work. There 
 are other books containing systems of Theology 
 which you might read with advantage, but instead 
 
GENEEAL READING. 7 0 
 
 of recommending any of them to yonr particular 
 attention, I would advise you, when you have 
 gone through with Dr. Dwight once, to begin, 
 and go through with him a.gain. This course I 
 would recommend, not from a desire to disparage 
 other authors, but from a conviction that to read 
 and digest this as you ought, would be of more 
 use to you than to read several similar works 
 superficially; and, withal, that you could expect 
 to find little in other bodies of divinity that 
 would be of much importance, which this does 
 not contain. 
 
 You will also, occasionally, employ yourself in 
 reading sermons. As your first object here should 
 be the improvement of your heart, you should 
 select those which are distinguished by an earnest 
 and practical exhibition of divine truth. But it 
 is perfectly consistent that you should combine, 
 Vvith the culture of your affections, the improve- 
 ment of your mind ; and for this purpose you 
 should choose those which are composed with the 
 best taste, and with the greatest degree of intel- 
 lectual vigour. The sermons of Barrow and Jeremy 
 Taylor, though they partake much of the spirit of 
 the age in which they were written, are specimens 
 of a vigorous and powerful eloquence, to which 
 
7G THE lady’s own book. 
 
 modern times have hardly furnished a parallel. 
 The sermons of Archbishop Tillotson are fertile in 
 weighty and impressive sentiment, and on subjects 
 connected with natural religion, are exceeded by 
 few in the language. Bishop Sherlock’s sermons, 
 though in some minor points not exactly accordant 
 with my own views of religious truth, are certainly 
 a monument of an elegant and active mind, which 
 posterity can never cease to admire. The sermons 
 of the immortal Edwards, though wholly destitute 
 of ornament, are in the highest degree instructive, 
 and contain, perhaps, the most powerful appeals 
 to the heart and cob science which are to be found 
 out of the Bible. President Davies’ sermons have 
 justly acquired a high celebrity for a dignified, 
 forcible, and solemn exhibition of divine truth, 
 and for a devotional fervour which cannot fail to 
 impress the heart. The sermons of Bobert Walker 
 are fine specimens of an evangelical spirit, and 
 admirably adapted to promote the influence of 
 practical religion. Jay’s sermons are full of truth, 
 and life, and beauty, and are fitted to be alike 
 gratifying to a refined taste, and an elevated piety. 
 The sermons of Dr. Chalmers can hardly fail to 
 be read with interest, as the oftspring of an inven- 
 tive and powerful mind, and as containing a lucid 
 
GENERAL READING. 77 
 
 exhibition of divine truth; though it were much 
 to be desired that the style in which they are 
 written had been less diffuse and involved. Robert 
 Hall is, in my opinion, the first writer of sermons 
 of the age. The irresistible force of his reasoning, 
 the beauty and grandeur of his thoughts, and the 
 dignified and graceful manner in which they are 
 expressed, in connection with the truly evangelical 
 spirit which pervades them, render his sermons 
 as perfect specimens of this kind of writing, perhaps, 
 as the world may expect to see. I might extend 
 this list almost indefinitely, but I am willing to 
 leave much to your own judgment; and those 
 which have been mentioned are, probably, enough 
 to occupy as much leisure as you will be able 
 to give to this kind of reading. 
 
 I cannot conclude this chapter without urging 
 you to a diligent and daily perusal of the Holy 
 Scriptures. Remember that this is the great foun- 
 tain of wisdom ; that it contains an infallible record 
 of the dispensations of God towards our world; 
 that it faithfully exhibits the character of man, 
 and opens up a way by which he may attain to 
 a glorious destination. 
 
CHAPTER YIL 
 
 INDEPENDENCE OP MIND. 
 
 Thebe is scarcely any quality wliich is more fre- 
 quently the theme of eulogy among all classes than 
 that which is to constitute the subject of this chap- 
 ter. The good and the bad alike will extol some- 
 thing, which each calls independence of mind ; and 
 all will agree that the quality which is indicated by 
 this language is an essential element in a truly noble 
 character. But it is worthy of remark that the 
 expression has a variety of meaning with different 
 individuals; that with some it indicates what is 
 truly great and noble, with others, what is unlovely 
 and even odious; it becomes, therefore, a matter of 
 importance that you should distinguish the precious 
 from the vile ; that you should take care to culti- 
 vate genuine independence of character, and nor 
 deceive yourself with something which has been 
 unjustly complimented with the name. 
 
 Let me apprise you, then, in the first place, that true 
 independence is something entirely different from 
 
lOTEPENDENCE OF MIND, 
 
 79 
 
 rashness. There are those who pride themselves on 
 forming a hasty opinion, and adopting a course of 
 conduct, even in relation to subjects of great moment, 
 without stopping to reflect at all on probable con- 
 sequences. It matters little with them though they 
 act entirely in the dark, provided only their move- 
 ments are so rapid and boisterous as to excifce atten- 
 tion. Persons of this character, you will always 
 And, run themselves into a thousand needless difli- 
 culties. Even if they chance to go right, every 
 judicious person will consider it a matter of mere 
 accident, and, to say the least, will give them far 
 less credit for virtuous conduct than if they had 
 adopted the same course with forethought and deli- 
 beration. 
 
 True independence of mind is equally unlike 
 obstinacy — another quality witli which it is often con- 
 founded. When a person has once formed an opinion, 
 and expressed it, especially with a great degree of 
 confidence, and perhaps withal with some publicity, 
 he is under strong temptation, from the pride of 
 consistency, to retain that opinion, even in spite of 
 light which ought to induce him to abandon it. 
 The secret feeling of his heart is, that it v/ould be a 
 reflection either upon his discernment or his firmness 
 to avow a change in his convictions; and hence he 
 
80 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 endeavours to shut his eyes upon the evidence which 
 might be likely to work such a change; or if the 
 light be irresistible, and the change is forced upon 
 him, he will refuse to acknowledge it; and will even 
 act in a manner which he knows to be contrary to 
 his own interest rather than confess that he has been 
 in a mistake. This is nothing short of the most 
 pitiable obstinacy; and whoever exhibits it exposes 
 himself to deserved contempt. Kemember that it is 
 an honour to confess an error as soon as you discover 
 it, and as publicly as you may have avowed it. All 
 will think the better of you for doing so ; or if there 
 be any exceptions, they are those whose praise is 
 censure, and whose censure is praise. 
 
 Equally remote is the quality which I would 
 recommend from a contempt of the opinion of others. 
 It is not uncommon to find persons who seem to 
 regard their own opinion as infallible, and who treat 
 the opinion of others with proportionate disrespect. 
 Ho matter though the subject be one in respect to 
 which they may be utterly ignorant, they will deliver 
 their opinion with dictatorial confidence, and will 
 treat every objection and every query as if it were, 
 of course, the offspring of folly or impertinence. 
 True independence, so far from giving its sanction to 
 this spirit, disdains not to ask advice of the wise, 
 
INDEPENDENCE OF MIND. 
 
 81 
 
 and always treats their oj)inions with respect though 
 it does not yield to them an implicit consent. You 
 need not fear that you will forfeit your character 
 for decision by asking judicious friends to counsel 
 you on any important subject on which you may be 
 called to act; indeed a neglect to do so would justly 
 expose you to the charge of vanity and presumption. 
 On the subject of asking advice, however, let me 
 give you two brief directions. One is, that you 
 should consult only those whose advice is worthy of 
 your attention ; the other is, that you should never 
 consult any one after your decision is formed. It is 
 nothing better than an insult to a friend to go 
 through the formality of asking his advice, and sub- 
 jecting him to the trouble of giving it, when your 
 opinion is decisively made up, and you only wish 
 him to sanction it. You cannot adopt this course 
 without some danger; for if the individual whom 
 you consult happen to discover the secret he must 
 be a good-natured person indeed not to be vexed 
 at it; if he happen to advise you contrary to 
 your predetermination, then you subject yourself 
 to the unpleasant necessity of acting contrary to 
 his opinion after you had formally sought it. It 
 is wise to seek counsel of proper persons; but 
 it should always be to assist one to form an 
 
82 
 
 THE lady’s OYfN BOOK. 
 
 opinion, not merely to strengthen it after it is 
 formed. 
 
 The independence which I wish you to cultivate 
 is that quality which leads us to form all our 
 opinions deliberately, and from the best light which 
 we can gain, and then to adhere to them firmly and 
 practically until there shall be sufficient evidence tc 
 reverse our convictions. 
 
 This quality discovers itself in the very formation 
 of opinions or principles. It keeps the mind steady 
 amidst the conflicting views which may be presented 
 before it. It causes it to look attentively at the 
 evidence on every side, to resist the undue influence 
 of circumstances, and to form its conclusions after 
 intelligent and impartial inquiry. If you have 
 genuine independence, it will keep you from incon- 
 siderate and hasty judgments. It will save you 
 from being enslaved to the opinions of others, and 
 from adopting notions merely because they are cur- 
 rent in the community around you. In short, it 
 will subject you to the labour of forming your own 
 judgments; but when they are once formed it will 
 insure to you the satisfaction of thinking that they 
 are your own. 
 
 But this trait of character discovers itself, not 
 only in the process by which we arrive at our con- 
 
— 
 
 V 
 
 INDEPENDENCE OF MIND. 83 
 
 victions of wliat is true and right, but also in an 
 intelligent adherence to those convictions after they 
 are attained. It usually happens that those opinions 
 which are formed most inconsiderately are relin- 
 quished most easily; whereas, they who have come 
 to their conclusions by a process of deliberate and 
 independent thought rarely have occasion to change 
 their views, and never but upon the most patient 
 and mature reflection. 
 
 I have spoken of an independent mind as it dis- 
 covers itself in forming and holding fast its own 
 opinions. Let me add, that it is not less conspicu- 
 ous in reducing principles to practice; in other 
 words, in steadily persevering in what we believe to 
 be duty. It requires far less strength of purpose to 
 avow good principles, even in times of trial, than 
 practically to exhibit those principles in an unyield- 
 ing course of action. But as principles are nothing 
 without practice, so it is the noblest office of genuine 
 independence to carry the mind forward in a course 
 of action corresponding with its own convictions ; to 
 keep the hands nerved for effort when there may be 
 a thousand pleas for relaxing exertion ; and to give 
 to this activity that direction only which conscience 
 approves, when the strongest temptations offer them- 
 selves to an opposite course. You may dream of 
 
84 
 
 THE LADY^g OWN BOOK. 
 
 your own independence as mucli as you please, but 
 unless it be of tliis practical kind wbich influences 
 conduct as well as opinions, and which is carried out 
 into all the departments of human duty, you have 
 much reason to believe that neither you nor the 
 world will be the better for your having possessed it. 
 
 The advantages of an independent mind will 
 readily occur to you upon a moment’s reflection. 
 One of them is, that it furnishes the best security 
 you can have, independently of a principle of Chris- 
 tian holiness, against false principles and corrupt 
 practice. It is especially in consequence of the want 
 of this quality that so many young persons become 
 victims to the most practical and fatal errors. They 
 are placed in circumstances in which it is fashionable 
 to think lightly of religion, or fashionable to dis- 
 believe its truths; and though at first conscience 
 may remonstrate against their throwing themselves 
 into the cun-ent, yet they have not strength of pur- 
 pose to resist it; and principles which were at first 
 adopted tremblingly and with severe compunction, 
 are soon rendered more than tolerable by habit, and 
 at no distant period they become the governing 
 principles of the life. A proper share of indepen- 
 dence would keep you from adopting any opinions 
 without due consideration ; and if error in any of its 
 
INDEPENDENCE OF MIND. 
 
 85 
 
 forms should be proposed to you, and you should 
 stop to canvass it, and should determine that you 
 would not receive it but upon deliberate and intelli- 
 gent conviction, there is good reason to believe that 
 you would not receive it at all ; for there is no fun- 
 damental error in religion or morals which is not 
 seen to be such by any one who examines it with 
 due attention and impartiality. 
 
 It is another advantage of genuine independence, 
 and ought to be with you a powerful motive for cul- 
 tivating it, that it is fitted to give you a proper 
 degree of self-respect. If you see an individual who 
 betrays great indecision of character, and is a slave 
 to the opinion of everybody, having no opinion of 
 his own, you cannot regard that individual other 
 than with a species of pity which borders well nigh 
 upon contempt. And the same must be true in 
 respect to yourself — if you are conscious that you 
 have no stability of purpose, and that your opinions 
 of characters and things are not your own, but are 
 taken upon trust, and that you do not think your 
 own thoughts even upon the most common subjects, 
 you may try to respect yourself, but you cannot; 
 and, moreover, you will be compelled to feel the 
 mortifying conviction that others do not respect you. 
 
 Whatever you or others may wish in regard to it, 
 G 
 
86 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 it is not in human nature that it should be other- 
 wise. As you desire, therefore, to live in the favour- 
 able regards of others, or even of yourself, cultivate 
 this trait which I am recommending. 
 
 And I may add, that this quality is not less essen- 
 tial to your usefulness. The fact that you have lost 
 self-respect would destroy in a great degree your 
 power of exertion; or what is the same thing, would 
 diminish the motives to it ; and the fact that you 
 had lost the respect of others would not only operate 
 in the same manner, but would tend to a similar 
 result by diminishing your opportunities of useful- 
 ness. And, moreover, let your efforts be what they 
 might, little real good could be expected from them 
 so long as they were not subject to the direction of 
 an independent mind ; for if you should labour for 
 a good object one day, there could be no security 
 that you would not abandon it for an evil one the 
 next ; or if you should seem to be labouring success- 
 fully for a while, it is quite probable that you might 
 soon defeat your purpose by some eccentric and ill- 
 advised movement. Under how much greater ad- 
 vantages will your efforts be made if you cultivate a 
 suitable spirit of independence. The fact that you 
 are conscious of doing right will render your exer- 
 tions easy and unembarrassed. The fact that you 
 
INDEPENDENCE OF MIND. 
 
 87 
 
 have the respect and confidence of those around you 
 will multiply your means of doing good. And the 
 fact that you are acting with reflection and firmness 
 will impart an energy and efficiency to your whole 
 deportment. As ‘you would be spared the reproach 
 of living to little or no purpose, let me say again, 
 cultivate a truly independent mind. 
 
CHAPTER YIII 
 
 FORMING THE MANNERS. 
 
 Next in importance to tlie culture of your heart 
 and understanding is the formation of your manners. 
 You shall have the grounds on which I form this 
 opinion. 
 
 There are multitudes who will have no other 
 criterion than is hereby furnished, by which to judge 
 of your character. In the varied intercourse of 
 society you meet many persons, perhaps only for a 
 single time, in the course of your life. They almost 
 of course form some opinion of you j and that opin- 
 ion is built upon what they witness of your general 
 appearance. With good manners you may leave 
 an impression upon a stranger from a casual meet- 
 ing with him, which may cause him to hold you in 
 grateful remembrance through life. With manners 
 of an opposite character you would either be passed 
 unnoticed, or perhaps remembered only as a glaring 
 specimen of affectation or rudeness. 
 
 It deserves also to be borne in mind that in nearly 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 89 
 
 every case the first impressions of the character are 
 gathered from the manners; and every one knows 
 that first impressions are not easily eradicated. 
 Instances are not uncommon in which an individual, 
 on the first introduction to another, has been struck 
 with some apparent defect of disposition, as indi- 
 cated by the manners; and though he may have 
 been subsequently convinced that the impression was 
 a mistaken one, has found it next to impossible to 
 forget it in the estimate he forms of the character. 
 If your manners are as they should be, it will give 
 you this great advantage in respect to every acquain- 
 tance you form — that the individual, from the be- 
 ginning, will be prepossessed in your favour. If 
 otherwise, the best you can hope is, that in finding 
 your way ultimately into the favourable regards of 
 other people, you will have to encounter a mass of 
 prejudice. 
 
 But, leaving first impressions out of view, there 
 is something in the very constitution of human 
 nature which inclines us to form a judgment of 
 character from manners. It is always taken for 
 granted, unless there is decisive evidence to the 
 contrary, that the manners are the genuine expres- 
 sion of tJie feelings ; and even where such evidence 
 exists, that is, where we have every reason to 
 
90 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 believe that the external appearance does injustice 
 to the moral dispositions, or, on the other hand, 
 where the heart is too favourably represented by 
 the manners, there is still a delusion practised upon 
 the mind by what passes under the eye, which it 
 is not easy to resist. You may take two individ- 
 uals of precisely the same degree of, intellectual 
 and moral worth, and let the manners of the one 
 be bland and attractive, and those of the other 
 distant or awkward, and you will find that the 
 former will pass through life with far more ease 
 and comfort than the latter ; for though good man- 
 ners will never effectually conceal a bad heart, and 
 are, in no case, any atonement for it, yet, taken in 
 connection with amiable and virtuous dispositions, 
 they naturally and necessarily gain upon the respect 
 and good-will of mankind. 
 
 You will instantly perceive, if the preceding 
 remarks be correct, that it is not only your interest 
 to cultivate good manners, as you thereby recom- 
 mend yourself to the favourable regards of others, 
 but also your duty, as it increases, in no small 
 degree, your means of usefulness. It will give 
 you access to many persons, and give you an 
 influence over those whom you could otherwise 
 never approach, much less whose feelings and 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 
 
 91 
 
 purposes you could never hope in any measure to 
 control. 
 
 There is yet another reason why this subject is 
 deserving of your attention. It is, that as the 
 manners derive their complexion in a great degree 
 from the feelings, so the feelings are in turn influ- 
 enced by the manners. Suppose, from your par- 
 tiality to some friend, you should undertake, to 
 adopt some weak peculiarity in her deportment, it 
 is more than probable, if the foolish experiment 
 should succeed, that you would find yourself, at no 
 distant period, with a set of feelings strongly assimi- 
 lated to those of the individual whom you had 
 sought to copy. Cultivate good manners, then, as 
 one means of improving your dispositions, and 
 imparting real excellence to your character. 
 
 That you may attain the object which I am 
 recommending, let me advise you to lay the foun- 
 dation aright, by cultivating good and amiable 
 feelings. Without these, though you should attain 
 what may pass with the world for good manners, 
 they will only serve to convict you of hypocrisy; 
 for, however it may be with others, you must 
 yourself know that they do not indicate your real 
 character. Endeavour then to banish from youi 
 heart all evil dispositions, and to cherish every 
 
02 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 temper that is amiable and praiseworthy. Kesist 
 with unyielding firmness the operations of pride, 
 envy, jealousy, and every other bad passion. There 
 are, indeed, infinitely higher motives which urge 
 you to this course than are derived from its influence 
 in forming your manners ; though it is with refer- 
 ence to this exclusively that I direct your attention 
 to it now. 
 
 In connection with the cultivation of benevolent 
 feelings, it is necessary that you should acquire that 
 habit of self-possession which will enable you at all 
 times to act out your feelings without embarrass- 
 ment. Where the manners indicate amiable moral 
 qualities, and a gentle and benignant spirit, this will 
 go far to atone for any lesser imperfections by 
 which they may be marked. Nevertheless, it is 
 desirable that you should appear not only amiable 
 but unconstrained; that you should feel at ease 
 yourself, and be able to put others at ease around 
 you. You will be placed, almost of course, in a 
 variety of situations it is important that you 
 should have that habitual self-command that will 
 enable you readily to accommodate yourself to the 
 peculiarities of each; and at least to conceal from 
 those around you the secret that you are not per- 
 fectly at home. I do not say that this is essential 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 93 
 
 to your passing in good society, but it certainly is 
 essential to the perfection of good manners. 
 
 It is important also that you should form a 
 proper estimate of your own relative standing in 
 society; and of what belongs to the various rela- 
 tions you sustain to those around you. If you 
 imagine yourself of more consequence than you 
 really are, it follows, almost of course, that you will 
 betray that opinion in an air of self-respect, which 
 borders upon arrogance. If you form too low an 
 opinion of yourself, you will be likely to make it 
 manifest in a cringing manner, which cannot fail 
 to leave an impression of your inferiority. If you 
 form a true relative estimate of yourself, it will be 
 a security against the extremes both of arrogance 
 and of servility; it will render you dignified with- 
 out being haughty; condescending without sacri- 
 ficing a proper self-respect, and will make you 
 acceptable alike in the higher and lower walks 
 of life. 
 
 I must not omit to mention that it is of great 
 importance to the formation of good manners that 
 you should be accustomed to mingle in good society. 
 I do not mean that you should select all your asso- 
 ciates from the more elevated walks of life; for 
 this would be likely to unfit you for mingling with 
 
94 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 ease and advantage among tlie lower classes; but 
 I would have you so much in cultivated society 
 that you shall feel perfectly at home, and that your 
 manners shall appear to have been formed upon a 
 model of elegance and refinement. It is a rare 
 instance indeed, that a young female, who is habi- 
 tually accustomed to society of a rude or grovelling 
 character, ever becomes graceful or dignified in her 
 own manners; and on the other hand, where her 
 intimate associates are persons of intelligence and 
 refinement, it is almost a matter of course that she 
 becomes conformed, in a good degree, to the models 
 with which she is conversant. 
 
 But while you ought highly to estimate the 
 privilege of good society as a means of forming 
 your manners, you cannot too cautiously guard 
 against servile imitation. You may have a friend, 
 whose manners seem to you to combine every 
 quality that is necessary to render them a perfect 
 model ; who unites elegant simplicity with generous 
 frankness, and dignified address with winning con- 
 descension; who, in short, is everything, in this 
 respect, that you could wish to be yourself; — but 
 after all, it would be unwise in you to become a 
 servile copyist even of such manners. For you are 
 to remember that a certain cast of manners suits a 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 95 
 
 certain cast of character j and unless your character 
 were precisely that of the individual whom you 
 should imitate, you would, in attempting to assume 
 her address, deservedly expose yourself to the 
 charge of aflectation. You will therefore do your- 
 self much better service by looking at good models 
 in a general manner, and by endeavouring to be- 
 come imbued with their spirit, than by making any 
 direct efforts, to become exactly conformed to them. 
 Indeed, it may be doubted whether you v/ill not 
 reap every possible advantage by simply mingling 
 in their society, without even thinking of them 
 as models. 
 
 Let me caution you here more particularly, to be 
 on your guard against affectation. This is very 
 easily acquired, and is so common a fault, that the 
 absence of it is always remarked as a great excel- 
 lence. I have known females of many amiable 
 qualities, and considerable intelligence, who have 
 been absolutely spoiled for society by attempting 
 to assume in their manners what did not belong to 
 them. Wherever anything of this kind exists, it 
 requires but little sagacity to detect it; and even 
 those who are not exactly sensible where the evil 
 lies, are still aware that there is something which 
 needs to be corrected. It happens, however, too 
 
9G 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 frequently, that what is quite palpable to everybody 
 else, escapes the observation of the individual who 
 is the subject of it; and I have known glaring 
 cases, in which the kindest intimation of the fact, 
 from a friend, has been met with expressions of 
 resentment. I beg that you wdll not only have 
 your ears open to any admonition you may ever 
 receive on this subject, but your eyes open, to 
 inspect narrowly your own conduct, that you may 
 detect the fault if it really exist. It is always 
 regarded, and justly regarded, as an indication of 
 consummate folly; and unless it happens to be 
 associated with an unusual cluster of real excellen- 
 ces, it brings upon the individued little less than 
 absolute contempt. Let your manners be as much 
 improved as they may, but regard it as an essential 
 matter that they should be your own. 
 
 Beware also of an ostentatious manner. By this 
 I mean that kind of manner which savours too 
 much of play; which indicates a disposition to 
 make yourself too conspicuous; and which, in short, 
 is the acting out of a spirit of self-confidence and 
 self-conceit. This appears badly enough when dis- 
 covered in a man; but in a female, and especially 
 in a young female, it is absolutely intolerable. 
 Not that I wish to see you awkwardly bashful, or 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 97 
 
 liable to embarrassment from every slight change 
 of circumstances; but between this^ and the osten- 
 tatious manner which I am condemning, there is a 
 happy medium consisting of a due mixture of 
 confidence and modesty, which will be equally 
 pleasant to yourself and those with whom you 
 associate. But if you must err in either extreme, 
 I had rather it would be in that of diffidence than 
 of ostentation. I had rather you should excite, by 
 your bashfulness, a feeling of compassion, than by 
 your excessive confidence a feeling of disgust. 
 
 But while you are careful to avoid ostentation, 
 you are to guard with no less caution against a 
 studied reserve. We sometimes meet with persons 
 whose manners leave upon our minds the painful 
 impression that they are afraid to trust us; and 
 that they regard both our actions and words with 
 suspicion. Wherever this trait appears, it is almost 
 certain to excite anger or disgust. Most persons 
 will bear anything with more patience than to be 
 told, either directly or indirectly, that they are 
 unworthy of confidence. A significant smile, or 
 nod, or look, with a third person, which is intended 
 not to be understood by the individual with whom 
 you are conversing, is a gross violation of propriety, 
 and has often cost a deeply wounded sensibility, 
 
98 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 and sometimes a valued friendship. While you 
 studiously avoid everything of this kind, let your 
 manners be characterized by a noble frankness 
 which, in whatever circumstances you are placed, 
 shall leave no doubt of your sincerity. 
 
 I will only add, that you should avoid every 
 approach to a haughty and overbearing manner. 
 It is an exhibition of pride, which is one of the 
 most hateful of all dispositions; and of pride in one 
 of its most odious forms. If you should be so vin- 
 happy as to furnish an example of it, whatever 
 variety of feeling it might excite among your 
 superiors and equals a.nd inferiors, you may rely 
 on it they would all agree to despise you. I entreat 
 you, therefore, as you value your character or use- 
 fulness, that you will always be courteous and 
 condescending. It is the mark of a truly noble 
 disposition to be able to treat the most menial and 
 dependent with kindness and good-will. 
 
 If I should point you to the finest model of 
 female manners which it has ever been my privilege 
 to observe, and one which will compare with the 
 most perfect models of this or any other age, I 
 should repeat a venerated name vfhich I have 
 already had occasion to mention in another con- 
 nection — that of Mrs. Hannah More. It was my 
 
FORMING THE MANNERS. 
 
 99 
 
 privilege, a few years ago, to make a visit at tke 
 residence of tliis distinguislied female; a visit which 
 I have ever since regarded as among the happiest 
 incidents of my life. At that time she numbered 
 more than fourscore years; but the vigour of her 
 intellect was scarcely at all impaired; and from 
 what she was, I could easily conceive what she had 
 been when her sun was at its meridian. In her 
 person she was rather small, but was a specimen 
 of admirable symmetry. In her manners she united 
 the dignity and refinement of the court, with the 
 most exquisite urbanity and gentleness which the 
 female character in its loveliest forms ever exhibi- 
 ted. She impressed me continually with a sense 
 of the high intellectual and moral qualities by 
 which she was distinguished, but still left me as 
 unconstrained as if I had been conversing with my 
 beloved child. There was an air of graceful and 
 unaffected ease, an instinctive regard to the most 
 delicate proprieties of social intercourse, a readiness 
 to communicate, and yet a desire to listen, the 
 dignity of conscious merit united with the humility 
 of the devoted Christian; in short, there was such 
 an assemblage of intellectual and moral excellences 
 beaming forth in every expression, and look, and 
 attitude, that I could scarcely conceive of a more 
 
100 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 perfect exliibition of human character. 1 rejoice 
 that it is the privilege of all to know Mrs. More 
 through her works; and I can form no better wish 
 for you than that you may imbibe her spirit, and 
 walk in her footsteps. 
 
CHAPTEE IX. 
 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 In the preceding chapters I have given you some 
 general directions in respect to the formation of 
 your manners. The subject on which I am now to 
 address you is closely connected with that; but 
 yet, if I mistake not, is sufficiently distinct to 
 justify a consideration of it in a separate section. 
 
 I am well aware that the gift of conversation is 
 originally possessed in very unequal measures; and 
 that while some have a native aptitude for social 
 intercourse, others seem to be constitutionally de- 
 ficient in ease and fluency. But notwithstanding 
 this original diversity, there is perhaps no talent 
 that is more susceptible of improvement than the 
 talent for conversation; and though you should 
 possess it in ever so moderate a degree, you may 
 still, by a suitable degree of attention, render your- 
 self, in this respect, decent and respectable. 
 
 The first requisite for conversing well is a well 
 stored and cultivated mind. Without this, I 
 
 H 
 
102 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 acknowledge tliat you may talk fluently, and talk 
 abundantly, and if you please, talk humorously; 
 but you can never be qualified to hold your part to 
 advantage m intelligent social intercourse. If you 
 move in the walks of cultivated society, you will 
 find that a great variety of topics will come up, 
 beyond the mere common places of the day; and 
 unless you have become considerably conversant 
 with the various departments of knowledge, you 
 will be subjected to the mortification of betraying 
 your ignorance either by saying nothing, or by 
 saying that which is not to the purpose. There is 
 no subject of importance, the slightest knowledge 
 of which may not be of advantage to you in con- 
 versation ; for even though it should be too limited 
 to enable you to impart anything to those with 
 whom you converse, it may be of great use in 
 assisting you to prosecute your inquiries with 
 intelligence, and thus to increase your own stock 
 of information. I would say, then, be studious to 
 gain knowledge on every important subject, and do 
 not regard even the fragments of information as 
 too unimportant to be treasured up and retained. 
 
 Endeavour, as far as possible, to make your 
 conversation a source of improvement. The gift of 
 speech, like every other endowment, was bestowed 
 
CONVERSATION. 103 
 
 for an im^oortant purpose; and that purpose can 
 never be answered, unless it is made the vehicle 
 for communicating, or the .means of obtaining, 
 useful knowledge or good impressions. Wherever 
 it is in your power to command the conversation, 
 make it a primary object to give it such a turn that 
 it shall subserve the intellectual and moral advan- 
 tage of those who are engaged in it. It may be 
 well for you, with reference to your own improve- 
 ment, to endeavour to introduce such topics as may 
 best suit the taste or talents of those with whom 
 you converse ; topics upon which they will be most 
 at home, and will be most likely to throw out 
 thoughts that may be useful to you. It has often 
 happened that an individual, from one conversation 
 with an intelligent friend, has gained more light 
 on a particular subject, than would have been 
 gained by weeks, or even months, of reading or 
 reflection. And let me say, that there are scarcely 
 any circumstances in which you can be placed, in 
 which you may not render the conversation a 
 source of some advantage, either to yourself or 
 others. If you are thrown among the illiterate 
 and vulgar, you may, in a single half hour, do 
 something to enlighten them; you may even be 
 instrumental in giving a new direction to their 
 
104 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 thoughts, and ultimately of forming their character 
 in a better mould: and notwithstanding their 
 ignorance on most subjects, there may be some 
 on which they may be able to instruct you; and 
 thus, after all, you may be mutually benefited by 
 your intercourse. 
 
 Let me caution you to beware of talking too 
 much. If you do not talk to the purpose, the less 
 you say the better j but even if you do, and if 
 withal, you are gifted with the best powers of con- 
 versation, it will be wise for you to guard against 
 the imputation of excessive loquacity. I would 
 not, by any means, have you yield to a prudish 
 reserve j but I know not whether even that were a 
 more offensive extreme than to monopolize the 
 conversation of a whole circle. You are to remem- 
 ber that as the gift of speech is common to all, so 
 there are few who are not inclined to use it j and 
 it is a rare case indeed, that you will meet an 
 individual who will feel satisfied to sit down and 
 hear another talk continually, and have the con- 
 versation addressed to himself, without bearing 
 any part in it. But, at any rate, you are never 
 to make youi’self very conspicuous in conversation, 
 without due regard to circumstances. If, for 
 instance, you are among persons who are your 
 
CONVERSATION. 105 
 
 superiors in age or standing in society, there must 
 be strong circumstances to justify you in bearing 
 more than a moderate share in the conversation. 
 And if you should actually take the lead in it, let 
 it appear manifest that it is not because you are 
 predisposed to do so, but because it is the wish of 
 others that you should. If you talk out of propor- 
 tion to your relative circumstances, even though it 
 should be to the amusement or edification of those 
 who listen, it is more than probable that it will be 
 set down to the score of vanity. It were far better 
 to leave a circle wishing, from what you have 
 actually said, that you had said more, than out of 
 patience with you for having talked so much. 
 
 It is only an extension of the thought to which I 
 have just adverted when I remark further, that you 
 should beware of talking without reflection, or 
 when you have nothing to say. It is far better to 
 be silent than to talk in this manner, or in these 
 circumstances; for you cannot hope to edify any 
 one, and you certainly expose yourself. Let the 
 subject be what it may, accustom yourself always to 
 reflect before you speak; in other words, to have 
 thoughts before you utter them. You cannot look 
 around in society, without perceiving that incautious 
 speaking is one of the most fruitful sources of 
 
106 THE lady’s OWI^ BOOK. 
 
 miscliief. Wlietlier you are discussing a grave 
 subject, or talking about the most familiar occur- 
 rences of life, let it be a rule from which you never 
 deviate to say nothing without reflection. You 
 may easily form this habit, and the advantage of it 
 will be incalculable; or you may perhaps, with still 
 greater ease, form the opposite habit, and it will 
 not improbably subject you to serious evils as long 
 as you live. 
 
 Take care that you never subject yourself to the 
 charge of egotism. This is apt to be a consequence 
 of excessive garrulity; for there are few persons 
 who talk a great deal, that do not find it convenient 
 to magnify their own importance. And let me say 
 that this is a foible which is more likely to escape 
 the observation of the person who is subject to it 
 than almost any other; and yet there is perhaps 
 no other which by every one else is more easily 
 detected ; and, I may add, none which excites 
 more universal disgust. Guard your lips, then, 
 whenever you find it in your heart to make your- 
 self the heroine of your own story. Never say 
 anything of yourself which even indirectly involves 
 commendation, unless under circumstances of very 
 rare occurrence. If you watch the operations of 
 your heart, you will probably be surprised to find 
 
CONVERSATION. 107 
 
 Ilow strong is the propensity to bring one’s self 
 into view, as often and to as great advantage as 
 possible. Whenever you can illustrate any subject 
 on which you may be conversing by a reference 
 to the experience of any one else, it is better, in 
 all ordinary cases, to avail yourself of it, than to 
 refer even indirectly to your own. I have known 
 some persons, who have manifested a strange kind 
 of egotism, in speaking freely and unnecessarily 
 of their own past errors; when it appeared to me 
 that genuine humility should have led them to 
 silent repentance. You may rest assured that it 
 is an exceedingly difficult thing to allude much 
 either to one’s own faults or excellences; difficult, 
 I mean, without leaving an impression that it 
 is the offspring of a foolish self-complacency; in 
 other words, without getting, and deservedly get- 
 ting, the character of an egotist. 
 
 Avoid even the appearance of pedantry. If you 
 are conversing with persons of very limited attain- 
 ments, you v/ill make yourself far more acceptable 
 as well as useful to them, by accommodating your- 
 self to their capacities, than by compelling them 
 to listen to what they cannot understand. I do 
 not say that you may not in some instances make 
 them stare at your supposed wisdom, and perhaps 
 
108 
 
 THE lady's own BOOK. 
 
 they may even quote you as an oracle of learning ; 
 but it is much more probable that even they will 
 smile at such an exhibition as a contemptible weak- 
 ness. With the intelligent and discerning, this 
 effect certainly will be produced : and that whether 
 your pretensions to learning are well founded or 
 not ; the simple fact that you aim to appear learned, 
 that you deal much in allusions to the classics 
 or the various departments of science, with an 
 evident intention to display your familiarity with 
 them, will be more intolerable than even absolute 
 ignorance. If you are really a proficient in science 
 or literature, you need have no apprehension that 
 your acquisitions will not be known without your 
 making a formal proclamation of them. If you 
 are only a superficial student, and make pretensions 
 to learning which your acquirements do not justify, 
 you will inevitably have to encounter a mortifying 
 defeat ; for you may set it down that in cultivated 
 society you will pass for nothing more than you 
 are really worth. My advice to you is, to acquire 
 as much useful information as you can, and to 
 use it in conversation where there is manifestly 
 occasion for it; but in no case whatever to volunteer 
 a learned remark where there is no higher purpose 
 to be answered than mere personal display. And 
 
CONVERSATION. 
 
 109 
 
 never venture on a subject, especially with an 
 air of confidence and erudition, upon which you are 
 conscious your attainments are too shallow to 
 justify it. It is an experiment always fraught with 
 danger ; and many instances have I known in which 
 it has resulted in a humiliating exposure both of 
 ignorance and weakness. You are at liberty, 
 indeed, to converse upon subjects on which you 
 are not well informed ; this, as I have elsewhere 
 intimated, is one important means of increasing 
 your information : but in every such case do not 
 attempt to get more credit for intelligence than 
 you really deserve : do not assume the air of a 
 teacher when you are conscious that the attitude 
 of a learner belongs to you. In this respect, as 
 well as in every other, honesty is the safest and 
 best policy. 
 
 Let me caution you still further against a habit 
 of light conversation. I have known young females 
 with whom this habit had become so confirmed, 
 that it seemed as if they could scarcely speak but to 
 trifle ; and who would even choose to remain silent, 
 rather than join in conversation in which their 
 favourite passion could not be indulged. You 
 cannot contract such a habit but at the expense 
 of forfeiting the esteem of the wise and good, of 
 
110 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 sacrificing true dignity of cliaracter, and throwing 
 yourself into a current of temptcction in which 
 there is every probability that you will be irrecover- 
 ably lost. Scarcely any habit more effectually 
 than this imparts a disrelish for the society of 
 all except trihers, and hardens the heart against 
 the influences of religion. I do not wish ever 
 to see you gloomy, or austere, or spiritless; but 
 as you value all that is most precious in time and 
 eternity, I pray you never to give yourself up to 
 a habit of levity. Avoid even the most distant 
 approach to it ; for it is the nature of every habit, 
 and especially of this, to make an insidious begin- 
 ning, and to grow strong by indulgence. If you 
 are thrown into company in which it is the fashion 
 to trifle, get out of it as soon as possible ; and while 
 you are in it, have decision enough to let it appear 
 that you are not in your favourite element; and 
 if you should even have so much as to express 
 your disapprobation, and to administer a gentle 
 yet dignified reproof, I venture to say, that the 
 greatest trifler in the circle would respect you 
 the more for it. There is no apology to be made 
 for such a habit on the ground of constitution, 
 education, or anything else ; and if you yield 
 to it, I must again remind you that you do 
 
CONVERSATION. Ill 
 
 it at the expense of character, usefulness, and 
 happiness. 
 
 Be careful also how you indulge in sarcasm. If 
 you are constitutionally inclined to this, you will 
 find that there is no point in your character which 
 needs to be more faithfully guarded. There are 
 some few cases in which severe irony may be 
 employed to advantage; cases in which vice and 
 error will shrink before it, when they will unhesi- 
 tatingly confront every other species of opposition. 
 But it too often happens that those who possess 
 this talent use it too indiscriminately; and perhaps 
 even more frequently to confound modest and 
 retiring virtue, than to abash bold and insolent 
 vice. But be assured that it is a contemptible 
 triumph that is gained, when, by the force of 
 sarcasm, the lips of a deserving individual are 
 sealed, and the countenance crimsoned with blushes. 
 And there are only a few cases — cases in which 
 the cast of character is peculiar — that will warrant 
 the use of this weapon against vice itself. You 
 may take it for granted, in all ordinary cases in 
 which a sarcastic remark has done its office, that 
 you have excited feelings of no very friendly char- 
 acter towards yourself. You may be flattered by the 
 compliment which you imagine those around you 
 
112 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 are paying to your wit, but it were more reasonable 
 for you to grieve at tlie reflection that you have 
 not improbably lost a friend. 
 
 In connection withsarcasm as displayed towards 
 those with whom you converse, let me say a word 
 in respect to your treatment of absent characters. 
 Never volunteer unnecessarily to speak ill of 
 anybody. You may indeed be j)laced in circum- 
 stances in which it may be proper and even 
 necessary that you should express an unfavourable 
 opinion of characters; that you should state facts 
 concerning them of the most disagreeable nature. 
 But what I object to is that you should do this 
 when circumstances do not require it, and when 
 no good will be likely to result from it; for it at 
 once indicates a bad disposition, and is a means 
 by which that disposition will gain strength. But 
 in no case allow yourself to make any unfavourable 
 representation of a character, unless you have 
 ample evidence that it is accordant with truth. 
 By neglecting to observe this direction, you may 
 do an injury to an innocent person, which it will 
 afterwards never be in your power to retrieve, and 
 acquire for yourself the reputation of a slanderer. 
 There is an idle way of discussing characters, in 
 which less is usually meant than meets the ear, 
 
CONVERSATION. 113 
 
 and which often seems to be resorted to merely for 
 the sake of filling up the time. Remember that 
 if you allow yourself to join in this kind of con- 
 versation, you always do it at the hazard of making 
 for yourself enemies ; for though your remarks may 
 be made with perfectly harmless intentions, and 
 may convey no bad impressions to the individual 
 to whom they are addressed, yet when they reach 
 the ear of the person who is the subject of them, 
 unaccompanied by the manner in which they were 
 uttered, and not imj)robably in an exaggerated 
 form, they will almost of course be regarded as 
 indicating diminished friendship, if not decided 
 hostility. Above all, never venture censorious 
 remarks upon characters when you are thrown 
 among strangers. Many instances have occurred 
 in which an individual who has ventured upon 
 this experiment has afterwards made the morti- 
 fying discovery that the person who was the subject 
 of his remarks was listening to them; or if not, 
 that they were heard by some near relative or 
 friend. The only prudent course in such circum- 
 stances, is to say nothing which will expose your 
 own feelings or the feelings of others in view of 
 any disclosure that may be made. 
 
 There is a familiar and irreverent use of sacred 
 
114 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 tilings, against which I wish especially to guard 
 you. For a female to he absolutely profane would 
 be to render herself at once an outlay/ from decent 
 society; nevertheless I have observed with pain 
 til at some young ladies, who would doubtless shrink 
 from the charge of profaneness, allow themselves 
 in exclamations, and in irreverent and ludicrous 
 applications of Scripture, which border very closely 
 upon it. Beware how you even approach this 
 dangerous ground. Such exclamations as those to 
 which I have referred, in which either the awful 
 name of the Supreme Being or some one of his 
 attributes is lightly introduced, are fitted to destroy 
 your reverence for everything sacred, and to cherish 
 within you a spirit of absolute impiety. Never 
 suffer anything of a sacred nature to be on your lips, 
 without a corresponding sentiment of reverence in 
 your heart. And if those with whom you are accus- 
 tomed to associate indulge themselves in this incon- 
 siderate habit of which I have spoken, think it a 
 sufiicient reason for declining their society. 
 
 I will only detain you farther by suggesting a 
 caution to cherish a most sacred regard to truth. 
 There is a habit which many persons have of 
 dealing artfully and evasively; saving their con- 
 sciences by some .expression which may admit of 
 
CONVEKSATIOISr. llo 
 
 double construction, but which nevertheless in its 
 obvious construction is contraiy to truth. There 
 are others who have a habit of talking extravagantly 
 on every subject ; with whom the simple verity is 
 too dry to be relished; who suffer their imagination 
 to supply the defects of their memories; who, in 
 short, never seem to breathe freely but in the 
 region of embellishment and exaggeration. And 
 I am constrained to say that much of the civility 
 of fashionable life savours strongly of deception. 
 I refer here not only to the habit which some ladies 
 have of sending word to visitors that they are not 
 at home, when they are only engaged, but to the 
 painful regrets that are often expressed at the dis- 
 tance between calls ; at the unspeakable joy which 
 is manifested on meeting a fashionable acquaintance ; 
 at the earnest importunity that is exhibited for an 
 early visit, when the truth is in each case that the 
 real feeling is that of absolute indifference. Now, 
 I beg you will guard against duplicity in all its 
 forms. Rely on it, it is not necessary to true 
 politeness; and if it were, you ought not, as an 
 accountable and immortal creature, even to agitate 
 the question whether you shall yield to it. There 
 are cases, I know, in which the temptation to 
 equivocate is powerful, in which to speak the 
 
116 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 honest truth must involve severe personal sacri- 
 fices, but in all cases of this kind the only proper 
 alternative is, either to speak out your real senti- 
 ments, or to say nothing; and you are not even at 
 liberty to remain silent, when silence will convey 
 a wrong impression, and of course is virtual false- 
 hood. You vnW gain nothing if you indulge 
 yourself in a habit of exaggeration; for this feature 
 in your character will soon be understood, and 
 your statements will all be received with a corre- 
 sponding abatement. In a word, let it be a principle 
 with you, never to be violated, that in whatever 
 circumstances you are placed, all that you say shall 
 be characterized by the simplicity of truth. In 
 this way you will secure the approbation of your 
 own conscience and commend yourself to the con- 
 fidence and regard of all who know yom 
 
CHAPTER X. 
 
 AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 There is scarcely any subject on wbicli it is more 
 important that you should form correct notions, 
 and in relation to which a mistaken view is of 
 more practical and dangerous tendency, than that 
 of amusements. Many a young female, who might 
 have been an ornament to her sex, and a blessing 
 to the world, has, by yielding to the dictates of a 
 wayward inclination, and setting aside the decisions 
 of sober reason on this subject, not only rendered 
 herself of no account in society, but clouded all her 
 prospects both for this world and another. In 
 contemplating this subject, I wish you to feel that 
 you are standing by the grave of female character 
 and hopes, and to heed the monitory voice that 
 issues from it, charging you to beware how you 
 tread in the footsteps of the fallen and ruined. 
 
 The grand reason why so many females have 
 fallen victims to the love of amusement, is, that 
 
 they have judged erroneously of the end which it 
 I 
 
118 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 is designed to answer. Tliey have taken np the 
 oj^inion (and it must be acknowledged that it has 
 too often received the sanction even of ]Darents), 
 that a portion especially of early life was designed 
 to be frittered away in idle and foolish indulgences; 
 that they are at liberty during this period to regard 
 the gratification of the senses as an ultimate object; 
 and to think of nothing in connection with amuse- 
 ment beyond the mere momentary enjoyment 
 with, which it is connected. With this impression, 
 they have asked no question with so much interest 
 as how they may most effectually bo amused; 
 and this passion has increased by indulgence, until 
 they have acquired an utter disrelish for the sober 
 concerns of life. Who would suppose that beings 
 could be employed in these idle pursuits, who are 
 destined to an immortal existence, who are ac- 
 countable for the improvement of all their time, 
 and are liable every hour to enter on an exact 
 and eternal retribution? 
 
 The legitimate end of amusement is not answered 
 in mere personal gratification^ but in refreshing 
 and invigorating the powers for the more successful 
 discharge of duty. The constitution of the human 
 mind is such, that it will not bear to be intensely 
 employed on the same object for a long time 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 119 
 
 without interruption : the effect of an attempt to 
 keep it thus employed would be^ that far less 
 would be accomplished than might be v/ith occa- 
 sional relaxation; and withal, the energies of the 
 mind, instead of being quickened and improved, 
 would gradually be diminished. Hence some 
 amusement becomes necessary, in order to secure 
 the greatest usefulness. 
 
 In this view, you will perceive not only that 
 amusement is designed to prepare you for the dis- 
 charge of duty, that is, for an attention to the 
 graver concerns of life, but that it is itself an 
 important part of duty, and like everything else 
 in which you engage, ought to be subject to the 
 direction of conscience. You have no more right to 
 forget your accountability, or to refuse to acknow- 
 ledge God in selecting your amusements, or in 
 yielding yourself to them, than you have when 
 you enter the closet or sanctuary to engage in 
 private or public worship. 
 
 You will perceive, moreover, if the preceding 
 remarks are correct, that the whole purpose of 
 amusement may be answered by mere change of 
 employment. It is by no means necessary, as the 
 popular notion is, that the change should be from 
 an employment that is useful to one that is useless 
 
120 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 or even worse; but tlie object may be even better 
 accomplished by a change that shall keep the mind 
 still employed to advantage. If your ordinary 
 employment be one that lays your faculties under 
 severe contribution, that to which you resort for 
 amusement ought, undoubtedly, to require but 
 moderate mental exercise; and in cases of great 
 exhaustion from intellectual effort, it may be proper 
 to give the mind for a season an entire dispensation 
 from the labour of connected thought. But in 
 all ordinary cases you will find that in unbending 
 from severe exertion of mind, with reference to 
 renewing that exertion with greater success, you 
 need not yield to positive inaction, or occupy your- 
 self with anything that is trifling, but may still 
 be doing something for the benefit of yourself or 
 your fellow-creatures. If you regulate your amuse- 
 ments by a regard to this principle, you will find 
 it a most effectual means of redeeming time, and 
 will have the pleasure to reflect that even your 
 hours of relaxation are hours of usefulness. 
 
 There are several tests by which you may judge 
 whether any particular amusement is innocent ; 
 of course, whether it is safe and right for you 
 to indulge in it. Inquire whether, before engaging 
 in it, you dare ask God to accompany it with his 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 121 
 
 blessing. Do not think this a superstitious sug- 
 gestion. Dely on it, it is fully accordant with 
 enlightened reason and conscience. We have no 
 right to use our faculties in any way which our 
 Maker and Judge does not approve, and if we 
 are conscious of using them aright, we shall at 
 once feel our need of his blessing, and be encouraged 
 to ask it. 
 
 Equally certain is it that it cannot be right 
 to engage in any amusement which is calculated 
 to give you a disrelish for serious reflection ; which 
 you cannot think of without pain or remorse, in 
 connection with the prospect of dying. Here I 
 pray you to take counsel of reason, and not suffer 
 yourself to be deluded by mere feeling; and if 
 you are tempted to amuse yourself in any way 
 which you really believe will cast an additional 
 shade upon the dark valley, or the tendency of 
 which is to make you wish that death were more 
 distant, resist the temptation, let it be at whatever 
 expense it may. There is no worldly gratification 
 which it were not wise to forego, if it be a seed 
 which will yield a harvest of wretchedness in your 
 last hour. 
 
 Let me add that you cannot innocently indulge 
 in any amusement which will not fit you for the 
 
122 
 
 THE lady’s OWN BOOK. 
 
 better discliarge of the ordinary duties of life. If 
 this be not the effect, the time which is thus 
 occupied is worse than lost; for not only is there 
 no good accomplished, but the faculties, by this 
 means, acquire, or are confirmed in, a wrong di- 
 rection. And thus habits are formed, both intel- 
 lectual and moral, which are alike inconsistent 
 with dignity, happiness, and usefulness. Is it not 
 lamentably true that a large part of the amuse- 
 ments that prevail in the world, instead of invi- 
 gorating the faculties for the more faithful discharge 
 of duty, actually unfit the mind for useful exertion 
 on the one hand, and create a disrelish for it on 
 the other"? I need not repeat the caution that 
 you will have no communion with any of these 
 scenes of unprofitable indulgence. 
 
 That you may not misapprehend my meaning, 
 I will descend a little to particulars, and give 
 you my opinion in few words, of some of the 
 fashionable amusements of the day. 
 
 I will begin with parties of pleasure. You 
 already know that I am in favour of your culti- 
 vating the social affections. Instead of objecting 
 to your meeting occasionally a circle of friends, 
 for an agreeable interchange of kind sentiments, 
 and for purposes of intellectual and moral improve- 
 
AMUSEMENTS, 
 
 123 
 
 ment, I would encourage such, meetings with all 
 my heart; and if you choose to call them parties 
 of pleasure, you have my consent for doing so. 
 But those scenes v/hich usually pass in the world 
 under this name — scenes of mere conviviality and 
 trilling — in which there is nothing to enlighten 
 the mind, or to refine or elevate the affections, 
 I am constrained to rego.rd as utterly unworthy 
 a rational and accountable being. It is not the 
 fact that the occasions to which I refer, usually 
 collect a large number that constitutes the ground 
 of my objection to them; for a large number may 
 as well be occupied in a profitable manner as a 
 small one; but it is the fact that the very purpose 
 for which they come together is to fritter away 
 time in idle and foolish conversation. It is this 
 circumstance which gives to the parties to which 
 I refer, their distinctive character; and whether 
 they consist of many or few, their tendency is, 
 perhaps, equally pernicious. They not only answer 
 no good purpose, but serve to dissipate the mind, 
 and throw open the doors of the heart to every 
 temptation. 
 
 Another amusement which has been very com- 
 mon, and which still prevails to a considerable 
 extent, is dancing. To this, considered as a mere 
 
124 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 exercise, no objection certainly can be made; and 
 if it were cultivated with exclusive reference to 
 this, nothing worse could be said of learning to 
 dance than that it is not the most profitable way 
 of spending time. And I will go further, and 
 add, that if a few girls were disposed to stand 
 up together for a half hour, and dance for re- 
 creation, I cannot conceive that there could be 
 any immorality in it. But all this, you are per- 
 fectly aware, is very remote from the amusement as 
 it actually exists. Every one knows that it brings 
 the sexes together in circumstances, to say the least, 
 not the most favourable to the cultivation of female 
 delicacy ; that the mind is usually engrossed for a 
 considerable time, in preparation for it; that, for 
 the most part, it occupies hours which should 
 be given to repose; that it is fitted to cherish a 
 spirit of vanity, and work up the mind to a 
 feverish and useless excitement ; and that it is 
 followed by a state, both of mind and body, which, 
 for a time at least, forbids anything like useful 
 exertion. I am confident that I might ai)peal 
 to any young female who is accustomed to dance 
 in balls and assemblies, and if she were honest, 
 she would confirm, from her own experience, all 
 that 1 have said. I have been struck with tlie fact, 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 125 
 
 that in every instance in which I have ever heard 
 a young female under serious impressions^ speak 
 of that part of her life which she had devoted 
 to this amusement, she has said unhesitatingly, 
 that, more than anything else, it served to give 
 her an aversion to more serious matters. Such 
 testimony, rendered in such circumstances, ought 
 surely to be regarded as decisive. 
 
 The only other amusement, in relation to which 
 I shall at present offer an opinion, is the theatre. 
 The great argument which is urged in favour of 
 this is, that it is a school in which you may study 
 to advantage the human character; inasmuch as 
 the various operations of the heart, under different 
 circumstances, are here successfully exhibited. This 
 argument is worth nothing; for it were better 
 to study human nature, as it is acted out in the 
 every day realities of life around us, than as it 
 appears in the high wrought and overstrained 
 representations of the stage; just as it would be 
 desirable to contemplate any object of interest 
 rather than a picture of it, even though it might 
 be drawn by the most skilful artist. And as for 
 the objections to this amusement, they are so 
 obvious that I scarcely need allude to them. The 
 vulgarity, the licentiousness, the impiety connected 
 
126 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 witli it^ are proverbial; and if tbe fact did not 
 stare us in tlie face, we should say that it was 
 impossible that ladies professing the utmost deli- 
 cacy, and who, in private, would be offended by 
 an indecent allusion, will nevertheless deliberately 
 and habitually expose themselves to all the profane- 
 ness and ribaldry of the stage. And wha;t renders 
 this still more surprising is, that in being present 
 on these occasions, they consent to mingle with 
 the most profligate part of the community; with 
 persons who are at home only in the atmosphere 
 of moral corruption, and whom common decency 
 cannot behold without a blush. This is a fact in 
 the history of your sex for which I own myself 
 utterly unable to account. 
 
 If the thought should occur to you that I am 
 abridging your liberty too far by depriving you of 
 amusements which are regarded by many as inno- 
 cent, let me entreat you, before you indulge such 
 a reflection, to pause and refer the several species 
 of amusement of which I have spoken, to the tests 
 which I am sure your reason and conscience have 
 already a]Dproved. Upon which of them, let me 
 ask, could you upon your knees humbly invoke 
 the blessing of God? Which of them could you 
 indulge, and not feel an increased aversion to the 
 
AMUSEMENTS, 127 
 
 more serious concerns of life? In wliicli of them 
 should you he willing to engage, if you were to be 
 assured by a messenger from the invisible world, 
 that you were spending the last month or the last 
 week of your probation ? In relation to which of 
 them can you say, that it would serve to prepare 
 you the better for your various personal and 
 relative duties ? I am sure that I need only 
 propose these interrogatories to your conscience, 
 to satisfy you that there is no superstition in the 
 advice which I have given you in respect to these 
 several amusements. 
 
 But I know you will ask, if the fashionable 
 amusements of the day are proscribed, what are 
 those in which you may safely and innocently 
 indulge ? I answer in general by repeating what 
 I have already said, that there is scarcely any 
 employment, different from your ordinary one, 
 which requires comparatively little mental effort, 
 in which you may not find legitimate recreation. 
 You may amuse yourself by various kinds of 
 reading, which, at the same time, will exert a 
 favourable influence on your understanding and 
 heart. You may amuse yourself by the study of 
 natural science j especially by arranging the flowers 
 of the field, and callingf them by their names; or 
 
128 THE lady's own book, 
 
 by carrying your curious researches into the mineral 
 kingdom, and deciphering the evidences of the 
 Creator’s handiwork in the mountain rock, and 
 the insignificant pebble, and every degree of mineral 
 existence between them. You may amuse yourself 
 by cheerful and yet useful conversation with some 
 entertaining friend, or even by walking abroad in 
 solitude, and breathing the fresh air, and looking 
 at the moon and the stars as they shine forth in 
 silent grandeur on the face of the sky, or in con- 
 templating the bright verdure that covers the 
 earth in spring, or in listening to the sound of 
 a distant brook, as it rushes down a steep moun- 
 tain, and buries itself in a deep forest. The 
 contemplation of these various objects, and of all 
 the variegated scenery of nature, opens a most 
 legitimate field for amusement, while it is fitted 
 also to enlarge our conceptions of the Creator’s 
 works, and to foster a spirit of elevated devotion 
 and rational piety. 
 
CHAPTER XL 
 
 INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD. 
 
 In several of the preceding chapters I have taken 
 for granted that yon are to mingle^ in a greater 
 or less degree, in society. It is equally essential 
 to your respectability and usefulness, that yen 
 should not live the life of a recluse. The constitu- 
 tion of your nature, and the circumstances of your 
 condition, clearly indicate that you were made to 
 be social. As it is a subject, however, in relation 
 to which there is a strong tendency to extremes, 
 and on which you will be in great danger of being 
 misled, I shall suggest a few thoughts in the 
 present chapter which may serve to aid in forming 
 your opinions and directing your conduct. 
 
 I begin my advice to you on this subject by a 
 caution that you should not make your entrance 
 into society at too early a period. It too often 
 happens that girls, long before they have completed 
 their education, and even at a comparatively early 
 stage of it, have contracted a strong relish for 
 
130 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 being in tlie world ; and unless prevented by tlie 
 influence of parents or instructors, they are found 
 thus prematurely in the gayest circles of fashion. 
 The consequence of this is, that at best, a divided 
 attention is rendered to their studies; that their 
 opportunities for intellectual improvement are 
 enjoyed to little purpose; and that the period in 
 which should be laid the foundation of a solid 
 and useful character, is perverted to the formation 
 of a habit of mental inaction, and not improbably 
 to cherish a spirit of intolerable vanity. 
 
 Now, I do not insist that you should actually 
 decline all society up to the time of completing 
 your education; but I wish that your visiting, 
 previous to that period, should be, for the most 
 part, of an informal character ; and that you should 
 not generally consider yourself at liberty to accept 
 invitations, even if you should receive them, to 
 mingle in set circles. This accidental intercourse 
 of which I have spoken, is all that will be necessary 
 during the period of your education, to aid you 
 in the formation of your manners; and anything 
 beyond it will almost inevitably interfere with your 
 intellectual improvement, and of course detract 
 from your ultimate standing in society. 
 
 Let me assure you too that you v/ill be far less 
 
INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD. 
 
 131 
 
 acceptable in society, if you make your appearance 
 prematurely, than if you wait till a proper period. 
 The common sense of the world is quick to discern 
 any impropriety on this subject; and if, v/hile 
 you are yet a child, you are seen among those of 
 mature age, virtually claiming to be as old as they, 
 you can expect nothing else but that you will be 
 set down as deficient either in modesty or good 
 sense. Better for your reputation that you should 
 come too late into society than too early; for 
 though in the one case you might lose something 
 in point of manners, yet in the other you would 
 lose more, in the estimation of the v/orld, on the 
 score of delicacy and correct judgment. 
 
 It is not more important that you should avoid 
 going into society too early, than it is, that when 
 you do enter it, you should avoid mingling in it 
 too much. One bad effect of this would be, that 
 it would leave you with too little time for the 
 discharge of your private and domestic duties. 
 The culture of your mind and heart, in connection 
 with the ordinary cares of domestic life, requires 
 that a large part of your time should be spent 
 at home; and you cannot, without great injustice 
 to yourself, and those with whom you are connected, 
 neglect these more private duties, for the sake 
 
132 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 of being always in tlie bustle of the world. It 
 is a rare thing that you will find a lady who 
 devotes an undue proportion of her time in visiting, 
 but that if you follow her into the domestic circle, 
 to the chamber and the fireside, you will find that 
 she evinces a proportional neglect of some of the 
 duties belonging to the station she occupies. She 
 is either neglecting to cultivate her understanding, 
 or neglecting to keep her heart, or neglecting to 
 use the means which Providence has put into her 
 hands for the intellectual and moral improvement 
 of those with whom she is immediately connected. 
 
 Pecollect also that the error against which I 
 am endeavouring to put you on your guard, would 
 not only prevent your attention to more important 
 duties, by occuj)ying the time which should be 
 allotted to them, but it would serve actually to 
 give you a distaste for those duties. Indulge 
 yourself in a constant round of company, even 
 for a short period, and it will be strange indeed 
 if you do not begin to feel that company is your 
 only element; if you do not, in a great degree, 
 lose your relish for the pleasures of the domestic 
 fireside; if you do not find yourself complaining 
 of ennui, when you happen for a season to be 
 providentially shut up at home. I need not stop 
 
INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD. 
 
 133 
 
 to show Ilow entirely such a habit of feeling must 
 disqualify a female for the most important relations 
 she can ever sustain. 
 
 Moreover, an extravagant fondness for society, 
 and an excessive indulgence of this inclination, 
 are almost sure to create a habit of dissipation, 
 both as it respects the intellect and the feelings. 
 The mind, by being constantly conversant with 
 the ever varying scenes of social life, loses, in a 
 great degree, the command of its own powers; and 
 the attempt to concentrate them on any particular 
 subject, were scarcely more likely to succeed than 
 v/ould be an attempt to collect every mote that 
 was floating in the surrounding atmosphere, while 
 the atmosphere was agitated by a whirlwind. The 
 moral feelings too, are subject to a similar influence ; 
 for not only is there usually an entire absence of 
 self communion, and all that secret discipline of 
 the afiections, which is essential to the right keep- 
 ing of the heart, but too often there are the levities 
 of the world, scenes from which there is a studied 
 exclusion of religion, and even a designed intro- 
 duction of much that is fltted to bring religion 
 into contempt. I do not say that this evil, in its 
 whole extent, is commonly found in any of the 
 
 walks of decent society; but I do say that it 
 K 
 
134 THE lady’s own book, 
 
 sometimes exists in tlie friglitful dimensions wMch 
 I have attributed to it; and that it commonly 
 exists in so great a degree as to render an exces- 
 sive intercourse with the world a fruitful source 
 of mischief. 
 
 You will anticipate me when I say, in this 
 connection, that it becomes you to use the utmost 
 caution in selecting the circle with which you are 
 to associate. I hardly need admonish you to set 
 it down as a fixed purpose that you will never, 
 intentionally, be found in any circle in which there 
 is anything to encourage immorality, or any lack 
 of reverence for the sacred principles and precepts 
 of religion. I would have you, moreover, beware 
 of mingling in the gay world ; in scenes which are 
 designed to produce an unnatural and feverish 
 excitement of the spirits, which are fraught with 
 no intellectual or moral advantage, and in which 
 the introduction of grave or useful discourse would 
 be the signal for disquietude or disgust. I do not, 
 by any means, insist that your associates should all 
 be from the number of those who are professedly or 
 actually pious; nor do 1 object at all to your 
 intercourse with them being of a cheerful, and 
 sometimes, if you please, an amusing character; 
 but I do insist that they should be persons of 
 
INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD. 13-5 
 
 correct moral views and habits, and that your 
 associating with them should be for some higher 
 purpose than merely to kill time, or to cultivate 
 a spirit of trifling. It were desirable, too, as I 
 have occasion elsewhere to remark concerning your 
 particular friends, that the circle with which 
 you chiefly associate, should possess a good degree 
 of intelligence; that thus your social intercourse 
 may be instrumental in improving not only your 
 heart but your understanding also. If you take 
 due precautions on this subject, the time that you 
 pass in society, instead of being lost, may subserve, 
 in a high degree, your most important interests; 
 Avhile the neglect of such precautions will render 
 the same hours a mere blank in the period of 
 your probation. 
 
 It is natural and proper that those with whom 
 you chiefly mingle should be from the same walks 
 of life with yourself. You may, however, some- 
 times providentially be thrown among those, the 
 circumstances of whose birth and education have 
 given them a rank quite superior to any which you 
 can claim; and as the case may be, persons of 
 this character may proffer you their confidence 
 and friendship. In all cases of this kind, never 
 suffer yourself to be deluded by anything that 
 
136 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 is connected with the pride or circumstance of 
 life ; and do not think it a privilege to mingle in 
 society of the most elevated worldly rank, provided 
 there be anything in it to put in jeopardy your 
 moral principles and feelings. And let me say, 
 too, that though you may very properly accept a 
 fair and honourable introduction into any circle, 
 no matter how elevated, yet you ought never, by 
 a single action, or word, or look, to signify a wdsh 
 for any such distinction. It would indicate a 
 species of ambition certainly not the most honour- 
 able, and if you should accomplish your object, 
 it is more than probable that you would meet the 
 reception which is due only to an intruder. 
 
 You would do injustice to yourself, and be want- 
 ing in the discharge of your duty, if you should 
 not occasionally, and even frequently, mingle in 
 the lower classes of society. Hot that I would 
 be an advocate for confounding or annihilating all 
 distinctions in society; nor would I have you, in 
 your intercourse with those in the humble walks 
 of life, lose sight of the mutual relations which 
 you and they sustain to each other. But I would 
 have you go among them with the benign aspect 
 of friendship; and I would have you make them 
 feel that you recognize them as fello^Vrcreatures, 
 
INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD, 
 
 137 
 
 placed in many respects on tlie same level with 
 yourself ; and I would have you leave an impression 
 upon their minds that the adventitious distinctions 
 of life are really of little moment, compared with 
 those points in relation to which all stand upon 
 an equality. The condescending yet dignified fami- 
 liarity which this species of intercourse would 
 discover, would do more than you can easily 
 imagine, to render the poor contented and cheerful, 
 and to secure for yourself their gratitude and con- 
 fidence. And let me say, too, that its influence 
 upon your own heart would be most salutary; that 
 it would serve to refine and elevate your social affec- 
 tions, and confer dignity on your whole character. 
 
 There is one other point involved in the general 
 subject of this chapter which is too important to 
 be omitted — I refer to the deportment which it 
 becomes you to maintain towards the other sex. 
 The importance of this, both as it respects yourself 
 and others, you can scarcely estimate too highly. 
 On the one hand, it has much to do in forming 
 your own character; and I need not say that any 
 lack of prudence in this respect, even for a single 
 hour, may expose you to evils which no subsequent 
 caution could enable you effectually to repair. On 
 the other hand, the conduct of every female who 
 
138 
 
 THE LADYS OWN BOOK. 
 
 is of the least consideration, may be expected to 
 exert an influence on the character of every gentle- 
 man with whom she associates ; and that influence 
 will be for good or evil, as she exhibits, or fails to 
 exhibit, a deportment that becomes her. Indeed, 
 so commanding is this influence that it is safe to 
 calculate upon the character of any community, from 
 knowing the prevailing standard of female character; 
 and that can scarcely be regarded as an exaggerated 
 maxim, which declares that women mle the world.” 
 
 Let me counsel you then never to utter an ex- 
 pression, or do an act, that even looks like solicit- 
 ing any gentleman’s attention. Lemember that 
 every expression of civility, to be of any value, 
 must be perfectly voluntary ; and any wish on your 
 part, whether directly or indirectly expressed, to 
 make yourself a favourite, will be certain to awaken 
 the disgust of all who know it. I would not re- 
 commend to you anything like a prudish or affected 
 reserve; but even this were not so unfortunate an 
 extreme as an excessive forwardness. While you 
 modestly accept any attentions which propriety 
 warrants, let there be no attempt at artful insinua- 
 tion on the one hand, or at taking a man’s heart 
 by storm on the other. 
 
 Be not ambitious to be considered a belle. In- 
 
INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD, 139 
 
 deed I liad ratlier you would be almost anything 
 else, that does not involve gross moral obliquity, 
 than this. It is the fate of most belles that they 
 become foolishly vain, think of nothing, and care 
 for nothing, beyond personal display, and not 
 unfrequently sacrifice themselves in a mad bargain, 
 which involves their destinies for life. The more 
 of solid and enduring esteem you enjoy, the better; 
 and you ought to gain whatever of this you can 
 by honourable means; but to be admired, and 
 caressed, and flattered for mere accidental quali- 
 ties, vfhich involve nothing of intellectual or moral 
 worth, ought to render any girl, who is the subject 
 of it, an object of pity. You are at liberty to 
 desire the good opinion of every gentleman of your 
 acquaintance; but it would be worse than folly in 
 you to be ambitious of a blind admiration. 
 
 I will only add, that you ought to be on your 
 guard against the influence of flattery. Eely on 
 it, the man who flatters you, whatever he may 
 profess, is not your friend. It were a much kinder 
 office, and a real mark of friendship, to admonish 
 you tenderly, yet honestly, of your faults. If you 
 yield a little to flattery, you have placed yourself 
 on dangerous ground: if you continue to yield, 
 you are not improbably undone. 
 
CHAPTER XII. 
 
 MARRIAGE. 
 
 The event of marriage marks an important era 
 in the life of a young female. It introduces her 
 to some new and most interesting relations. It 
 devolves upon her a set of cares, and duties, and 
 responsibilities, to which she has hitherto been 
 unaccustomed. It usually lays the foundation for 
 increased happiness, or for bitter, and enduring, 
 and unavailing regrets. 
 
 I begin my advice to you on this subject, by 
 suggesting a caution against forming this con- 
 nection prematurely. There is scarcely anything 
 that indicates a greater lack of discretion, than 
 for a young girl, at a time when she ought to be 
 giving her thoughts to her books, and thus laying 
 the foundation for respectability and usefulness, 
 to be giving her heart to some admirer, and 
 entering into an arrangement for speedily giving 
 liim her hand. The consequence of this is, that 
 she is only imperfectly educated, and not unfre* 
 


 THE DAU&HTER OF THE EAST. 
 
 WR.iy['?hun& Son, Publishers, 
 G-LAsoow^ nonDoir. 
 
MARRIAGE, 141 
 
 quently, is subjected through life, by her deficiencies, 
 to serious inconvenience and mortification. She 
 enters the conjugal state miserably qualified to 
 sustain its responsibilities; and not improbably 
 acquires a cast of character in that relation, which, 
 unfortunately, is too enduring, and which is alike 
 unfavourable to her own enjoyment, and that of 
 those with whom she is immediately connected. 
 
 I advise you, therefore, as you value your 
 prospects of happiness for life, that you leave all 
 matrimonial arrangements to a period subsequent 
 to the completion of your education. Even if 
 proposals of marriage should be made to you, and 
 of an eligible kind, previous to that time, it must 
 be an extraordinary case indeed in which you 
 would be warranted to accept them. The very 
 fact of your forming such an engagement, and 
 especially of your suffering it to arrest your educa- 
 tion, would be set down to your disadvantage. It 
 would be regarded as indicating at least an unfor- 
 tunate weakness in your character, which would 
 be no favourable prognostic of a solid and enduring 
 reputation. 
 
 Another evil which you should avoid, in con- 
 nection with this subject, is that of forming this 
 relation, or pledging youi-self to it, without duo 
 
142 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 deliberation. Every one knows tliat there is no 
 department of human experience which is so fruitful 
 in wonderful occurrences as this; and one of the 
 most singular of them all is the fact, that many a 
 young lady disposes of herself for life, to a man 
 with whom her acquaintance has been limited to 
 a few days, or even a few hours. I admit that 
 there may be solitary cases of this kind in which 
 the result is favourable, but no female, who makes 
 the rash experiment, has a right to calculate, either 
 from the analogy of experience, or the nature of 
 the case, upon anything else, than that the result 
 will be most disastrous. If there be one instance in 
 which there has proved to be a congeniality ol 
 thought and feeling favourable to domestic happi- 
 ness, there are many in which the most opposite 
 tempers and habits have been brought into an 
 unnatural union, and the grave of conjugal happi- 
 ness has opened beneath the very altar at which 
 the conjugal union was consummated. 
 
 I would have you then on your guard against 
 taking a rash step in relation to this important 
 matter. Bear in mind that the decision which 
 you form on this subject is to affect vitally your 
 interests for life ; and not only yours, but at least 
 those of one other individual. The consequences 
 
MARRIAGE. 143 
 
 of an erroneous decision you will not be able to 
 avoid: they will meet you^ and follow you, and 
 attend you, through the whole of the rugged path 
 which conducts you to the grave. 
 
 Another point of great importance, connected 
 with this subject, is the character of the man^with 
 whom you are to be united. There are some 
 qualities which may be desirable enough, but are 
 not indispensable: there are others which should 
 be regarded as absolutely requisite, and the op- 
 posites of which as absolutely disqualifying for this 
 connection. 
 
 It may be a pleasant circumstance, though it 
 certainly ought not to be considered indispensable, 
 that the individual with whom you are to be 
 connected, should belong to an influential family. 
 This might secure to you a more valuable circle 
 of acquaintance, and actually bring within your 
 reach more extended means, both of improvement 
 and of usefulness, than you could reasonably expect 
 under different circumstances. It is an important 
 consideration that in marriage the wife rises or 
 sinks to the level of the husband ; and this is a 
 reason why at least a respectable circle of con- 
 nections on his side, is with her a just desideratum ; 
 for if there be any blot on the character of his 
 
144 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 family which even remotely extends to him, as soon 
 as her destinies are united to his, she comes in, 
 almost of course, for her share of the odium ; at 
 least it has an influence in determining the rank 
 she is to hold in society. There are cases indeed, 
 in which an extraordinary degree of personal merit 
 completely redeems the character of an individual 
 from the deepest family disgrace ; and in such cases 
 a lady would have nothing to fear from public 
 opinion in giving her hand in marriage; but in 
 any other circumstances it were certainly desirable 
 that she should not throw herself into a circle of 
 connections of a rank greatly inferior to those with 
 whom she has been accustomed to mingle. If 
 providence should place you by marriage in a 
 more elevated condition than that to which you 
 have been accustomed, you may regard it as a 
 favour that demands your gratitude, and as a 
 means put into your hands for getting and doing 
 good. But I repeat, never consider this indis- 
 pensable. Be satisfied if the new circle of con- 
 nections hold a fair and reputable standing. 
 
 I regard fortune as it stands related to the 
 marriage of a young lady, in nearly the same 
 light as family. Great riches are desirable only 
 as a means of doing good ; as a means of enjoyment. 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 145 
 
 independently of tlie opportunity they furnish for 
 the exercise of a benevolent spirit, they are really 
 worth very little; and are in no respect to be 
 preferred to a fair competence. If I have any 
 wish that you should be rich, it is not that I may 
 see you in circumstances of splendour, but that 
 I may see you setting a noble example of bene- 
 volence; not that you may outshine those around 
 you in the magnificence of your dwelling, or the 
 costliness of your furniture or equipage, but that 
 you may deservedly bear the palm in doing good 
 to the wretched and perishing. But when I 
 remember how often riches become a snare to their 
 possessors, and how many females have been ruined 
 by a sudden elevation to a fortune, I cannot say 
 that I have a wish that you should ever encounter 
 the temptations incident to that condition. It 
 is certainly desirable that there should be a com- 
 petence on one side or the other; so much as to 
 furnish adequate means, in connection with the 
 avails of some honest and honourable calling, for 
 the support of a family; but within this limit 
 any lady may reasonably circumscribe her wishes. 
 
 Do not marry a fop. There is in such a 
 character nothing of true dignity; nothing that 
 commands respect, or insures even a decent stand- 
 
UG 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 ing in tlie community. Tliere is a mark upon 
 liim, an affected elegance of manner, a studied 
 particularity of dress, and usually a singular inanity 
 of mind, by wbicli lie is known in every circle 
 in which he moves. His very attitude and gait 
 tell the stranger who he is, though he only passes 
 him silently in the street. To unite your destiny 
 with such a man, I hardly need say, would be to 
 impress the seal of disgrace upon your character, 
 and the seal of wretchedness upon your doom. 
 
 Do not marry a spendthrift. Ho, not if he 
 have ever so extensive a fortune; for no degree 
 of wealth can secure such a man from the degrada- 
 tion of poverty. I have in my eye at this moment 
 an accomplished female (and it were easy to adduce 
 a thousand similar cases), who married a man of 
 vast wealth, but of prodigal habits; and years 
 have passed away since that immense fortune has 
 gone to the winds; and the last remains of it 
 were squandered amidst the tears, and in spite 
 of the tender earnest expostulations of a suffering 
 family. And now if I should look for that once 
 rejoicing and apparently fortunate bride, I should 
 go to an obscure cabin of wretchedness, and should 
 find her labouring with her own hands to provide 
 bread for her more than orphan children, and 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 147 
 
 she would tell me a tale of woe, which, however 
 familiar to me, would make me sit down and weep. 
 This same man, who has plunged her and her 
 little ones into so much -wi'etchedness, possesses 
 many naturally amiable qualities, and is gifted with 
 enviable powers of mind, but unhappily in early 
 life he became a spendthrift; and on this rock 
 the fortunes of himself and of his family were 
 wrecked. If you should ever give yourself to a 
 man of similar character, you need not be dis- 
 appointed if you should experience a similar 
 destiny. 
 
 Do not marry a miser. Such a man may be 
 rich, very rich, but you could expect that his riches 
 would yield you little else than misery. It is 
 not improbable that you might have the mortifica- 
 tion of being compelled not only to refuse every 
 call of charity, but to abridge, in a great degree, 
 your own personal comforts, and of knowing at 
 the same time that there were ample means within 
 your reach which yet you were forbidden to ap- 
 propriate. If you must marry a miser, I would 
 say, better marry one that is poor than one who 
 is rich ; for in the former case, to whatever incon- 
 venience you might be exposed, you would be 
 saved the disheartening reflection, that you were 
 
148 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 poor in tlie midst of abundance. As I would 
 have you always cultivate a noble and liberal 
 spirit, I beg you will never for a moment think 
 of forming a connection that shall subject you in 
 this respect to the least embarrassment. 
 
 Do not marry a man whose age is greatly dispro- 
 portioned to your own. I will not say that 
 circumstances never exist which justify a deviation 
 from this rule; or that there are no cases in which 
 it is violated, that result favourably to the happiness 
 of both parties. But I am constrained to say 
 that such connections present, at least to my own 
 eye, a violation of good taste, and seem contrary 
 to the dictates of nature. Besides, it is an exceed- 
 ingly awkward tiling for a young girl to be going 
 round with a man of triple her own age as a 
 husband, and puzzling all who see them together 
 to decide whether she is the grand-daughter or 
 the wife. And a greater evil still is, that there 
 must needs be in many respects an entire lack 
 of congeniality between them. He has the habits 
 and feelings of age, she the vivacity and buoyancy 
 of youth ; and it were impossible that this wide 
 difference should not sooner or later be painfully 
 felt. And she may reasonably expect that some 
 of her best days will be spent, not in sustaining 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 149 
 
 the infirmities of an aged father, but in ministering 
 to the necessities of a superannuated husband ; and 
 it would not be strange if the burden should be 
 increased by her being compelled to encounter 
 the spirit of complaint and petulence by which 
 old age is often attended. I confess that, whenever 
 I see a respectable female, in the meridian of life, 
 in these circumstances, I regard her with pity; 
 and though I venerate her for the affectionate 
 and faithful attentions which she renders to the 
 man whom she has accepted as her husband, I 
 cannot but wish, for the sake of her own dignity 
 and happiness, that those attentions had devolved 
 upon some other individual. 
 
 Do not marry a man who is not industrious in 
 some honourable vocation. It is bad for any 
 individual to be without some set employment : 
 the effect of it is very apt to be, that he abuses 
 his talents, perverts his time to unworthy purposes, 
 and contracts a habit of living to little purpose 
 but that of selfish gratification. A man without 
 property, and yet without business, no girl could 
 ever think of marrying, unless she had made up 
 her mind to sell herself to the lowest bidder. A 
 rich man may have retired from active business, 
 
 after accumulating an estate, and yet may find 
 L 
 
150 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOIC. 
 
 employment enougli in the supervision and man- 
 agement of it ; but if a man have become rich by 
 inheritance, and has never acquired a habit of 
 industry, and has been brought up in abundance 
 to live only as a drone, I would say that it were 
 scarcely more safe to marry him than if he were 
 actually poor; for this indolent habit is a pledge 
 of the speedy dissipation of his property. A habit 
 of industry once formed is not likely to be ever 
 lost. Place the individual in whatever circum- 
 stances you will, and he v/ill not be satisfied unless 
 he can be active. Moreover, it will impart to 
 his character an energy and efficiency, and I may 
 add, dignity, which can hardly fail to render him 
 an object of respect. I should reg?trd your prospects 
 for life as far better, if you should marry a nian of 
 very limited property, or even no property at all, 
 Avith an honest vocation and a habit of industry, 
 than if I were to see you united to one of ex- 
 tensive wealth, who had never been taught to 
 exercise his own powers, and had sunk into the 
 sensual gratification of himself 
 
 Do not marry a man of an irritable, violent, 
 or overbearing temper. There is nothing with 
 which domestic enjoyment is more intimately con- 
 nected, than a naturally amiable and affectionate 
 
MARRIAGE. 151 
 
 disposition; and the absence of this is sure to 
 render a delicate and sensitive female, in no small 
 degree, unhappy. To be compelled to witness 
 frequent ebullitions of angry passion — ^to hear her 
 well intended actions often complained of, and 
 her purest motives bitterly impeached — to feel 
 that the stern hand of power is stretched over, 
 rather than the soft arm of kindness laid beneath 
 her — this is a lot from which it would seem the 
 gentleness of female character ought to claim an 
 exemption. I say then, as you value your comfort, 
 venture not to form this connection with a man 
 of an unamiable temper. The only exception to 
 be made from this remark is the case of a man, 
 in whom the principle of religion has gained such 
 an ascendancy, as to remedy the obliquities of a 
 perverse constitution. But this is one of the 
 highest and holiest triumphs of religion itself ; 
 and you ought to gain good evidence that it has 
 accomplished this noble work, before you venture 
 to stake your happiness upon it. 
 
 Do not marry a man who is deficient in under- 
 standing, or in mental acquisitions. I do not 
 mean that you should look for an intellect of the 
 highest order, or that you should consider yourself 
 entitled to it ; but I mean that a woman of decent 
 
152 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 intelligence can never be bappy with a fool. If 
 you were united to a man of inferior endowments, 
 you would not only lose the advantage which 
 might result from an unreserved intercourse with 
 one of a different character, but you would also 
 be subject to a thousand painful mortifications 
 from the awkward mistakes and ridiculous opinions 
 which would result from his ignorance. There is 
 scarcely anything more painful than to observe 
 a lady and her husband in society, when every 
 one feels the superiority of the former to the latter; 
 and when the wife herself is manifestly so much 
 impressed with his inferiority, that the opening 
 of his lips is a signal for the dropping of her head, 
 or for a blush to diffuse itself over her countenance. 
 It were certainly a mark of imprudence for any 
 lady to marry a man whom she would be ashamed 
 to introduce into any circle to which she would 
 have access. 
 
 Do not marry a man who is sceptical in his 
 principles. If he be an avowed infidel, or if he 
 hold any fundamental error in religion, and yet 
 have every other quality which you could desire, 
 it would be an act of infatuation in you to consent 
 to become his wife. You cannot, upon any prin- 
 ciples of reason, calculate that, if you do this, you 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 153 
 
 ■will escape injury. I know an instance in which 
 a young female who had had a religious education, 
 married an infidel; and the consequence of the 
 connection has been, that she has plunged with 
 her husband into the gulf of infidelity, and now 
 openly reviles the Saviour, and ridicules the most 
 sacred and awful truths of religion. I know 
 another instance in which the husband of a lady 
 of established religious principles, and of apparently 
 devoted piety, became a zealous advocate of one 
 of the grossest systems of error that has ever been 
 baptized into the Christian name; and though at 
 first she halted, and thought she could never 
 yield, and even expostulated with her husband 
 to retreat from the verge of the precipice, yet 
 she herself at length tremblingly approached, and 
 finally took the fatal leap; and now, instead of 
 hearing her talk of her reliance on Christ, and 
 of the preciousness and the power of his atoning 
 sacrifice, you will hear her speak of him as only 
 a good moral teacher, and of her own salvation 
 as if the glory of it all belonged to herself. And 
 I doubt not that these instances furnish a fair 
 illustration of the influence of such a connection 
 on the female character. You may rest assured 
 that you cannot be the constant companion of 
 
I5i THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 an infidel, witliont breathing an atmosphere that 
 is strongly impregnated with moral corruption ; 
 and it were little short of a miracle if you should 
 breathe such an atmosphere, without inhaling the 
 elements of death. If I were to see you in these 
 circumstances, though I would still commend you 
 to a God of mercy, I could scarcely forbear to 
 weep over your lot, as if your ruin were actually 
 accomplished. ^ 
 
 Do not marry a man of questionable morality. 
 However correct may be his moral and religious 
 opinions, if he be addicted to only a single species 
 of vice, you have no security that he will not sink 
 into the vortex of profligacy. If he be a profane 
 man, he certainly cannot have the fear of God 
 before his eyes, and of course cannot be under 
 the controlling influence of moral obligation. If 
 he sufier himself to be only occasionally found at 
 the gaming table, or if he be addicted in the 
 slightest degree to intemperance, there is a melan- 
 choly probability that he will, ere long, become 
 a desperate gambler, and a shameless sot; and 
 think what it would be to be obliged to recognize 
 such a man as your nearest friend — a man whose 
 character is rendered odious by the very loath- 
 someness of depravity. I say, then, if there be 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 155 
 
 a single exceptionable point in tbe moral character 
 of the man who ofters himself to you, reject his 
 proposals without hesitation : to accept them would 
 in all probability be to prepare for yourself a 
 cup of unmingled bitterness, and possibly to exile 
 yourself from the society of your own friends. 
 
 Having said thus much in relation to what 
 should be avoided, and what should be desired, 
 in the character of a husband, I shall close this 
 chapter with a few brief directions in respect to 
 your conduct previously and subsequently to your 
 forming an engagement. 
 
 If a gentleman address you on the subject of 
 marriage, the presumption is that the proposal 
 is unexpected ; and unless you can decide instantly 
 in the negative (in which case you are bound 
 to apprize him of your decision without delay), it 
 is proper that you should make his proposal a 
 subject of immediate and serious consideration. 
 
 In ordinary cases, it is unnecessary to ask the 
 advice of any beside your parents. It is due to 1 
 filial respect that they should be consulted; and 
 as they are most deeply interested in your hap- 
 piness, you could not fail to regard their opinion 
 with suitable deference. The two great questions 
 which you have to decide in order to form your 
 
156 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 ultimate conclusion, are, whetlier, on tlie wliole, 
 you are satisfied witli his character, and whether 
 you are susceptible of that degree of affection for 
 him which will justify this connection. If, after 
 due consideration, you can answer both these 
 questions in the afi[irmative, it may be safe to 
 decide agreeably to his wishes. If you are con- 
 strained to answer either in the negative, your 
 duty to him as well as yourself demands that 
 you should come to a contrary decision. And 
 in either case, you are to lose no time in apprizing 
 him of the result. If it be that you decline his 
 proposals, make it known to him in a manner 
 which will be least likely to wound his sensibility, 
 and let the secret of his having addressed you 
 never pass your lips. Your answer in this case 
 places him in an unpleasant situation at any rate ; 
 and it were more than cruel to add to his mor- 
 tification by giving publicity to the occasion of 
 it. If, on the other hand, the result be that you 
 accept his proposals, modestly and affectionately 
 inform him of it, and from that period consider 
 yourself sacredly bound through every vicissitude 
 to become his wife. 
 
 An engagement thus deliberately formed, and 
 involving such important interests, it were an 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 157 
 
 indication of something more than weakness to 
 trifle with ; it betrays an obliquity of moral feeling, 
 a lack of generous sensibility, and a recklessness 
 of character, which might well lead any gentle- 
 man, towards whom the outrage was directed, to 
 congratulate himself upon having been the subject 
 of it, rather than to have had the same qualities 
 to encounter for life, in the nearest and ten derest 
 of all relations. The young lady, who wantonly 
 refuses to fulfil an engagement of marriage, in 
 the estimation of all whose good opinion is worth 
 possessing, subjects herself to disgrace; and you 
 will find, not unfrequently, something like a just 
 retribution rendering any subsequent connection 
 which she may form a source of continual un- 
 happiness. 
 
 There are only two cases which occur to me, 
 in which there can be any good ground for a 
 young lady to decline giving her hand in marriage 
 after it has been promised. The one is that in 
 which the person to whom she is pledged, sub- 
 sequently to an engagement, avows licentious prin- 
 ciples, or yields to any immoral practice. The 
 other is that in which she discovers that he has 
 intentionally concealed from her anything in respect 
 to his character or circumstances which, had she 
 
158 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 known it seasonably, would have prevented ker 
 forming tbe engagement. In botli these cases it 
 is manifest that she has a right to withdraw; for 
 in the one, he has voluntarily assumed a character 
 which will be sure to render her wretched, and 
 which, if he had possessed it when the engagement 
 was formed, would have led her unhesitatingly 
 to decline his proposals : in the other, he has gained 
 her consent by deception; and it were impossible 
 that she should be morally bound in a contract, 
 in which the ground on which she would have 
 acted was concealed from her. But where, instead 
 of immorality or infidelity, there has been nothing 
 but misfortune; where the evils which have come 
 upon him, however disastrous, have been the result, 
 not of his own folly or guilt, but of the ordinance 
 of Heaven, there is not the shadow of an apology 
 for her deserting him. I do not say that circum- 
 stances may not exist in which it may be best 
 for both parties that the engagement should not 
 take effect ; but if it is dissolved, let it be a matter 
 of fair understanding and mutual consent ; for her to 
 refuse to fulfil it were nothing less than a wanton 
 violation of good faith. In becoming engaged to 
 him, she of course consented to share with him the 
 lot which providence should appoint; and though 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 159 
 
 slie certainly lias a right to refuse to share the 
 consequences of vices which he may subsequently 
 have contracted^ she has no right to decline a part 
 with him in any afflictions which may be adminis- 
 tered by the righteous hand of God. 
 
 But you will ask, perhaps, whether there is 
 not yet another case in which a lady may be 
 justified in declining to fulfil a promise of marriage 
 — that in which she discovers, after she is engaged, 
 that the person to v^^hom she has come under 
 obligation, is not in a sufficient degree the object 
 of her affection. In a case of this kind, I would 
 say, let her beware how she yields to an occasional 
 freak of feeling, or take up the opinion that she has 
 no solid attachment to the individual, because in 
 some particular states of mind she feels, or imagines 
 that she feels, a sentiment of indifference toward 
 him. But if she be satisfied, after faithfidly watch- 
 ing her own feelings, that the prevailing habit of 
 her mind towards him is a habit of indifference or 
 aversion; better, perhaps, that she should honestly 
 communicate the fact to him, and no doubt his 
 consent will be readily obtained for the dissolution 
 of the engagement. But in this case, let her re- 
 member that she does not rid herself of responsi- 
 bility. She subjects herself to the imputation of 
 
IGO 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 having acted rashly, in a case which pre-eminently 
 required that she should have acted deliberately; 
 or else of possessing a fickleness of character which 
 must throw an air of suspicion around all her 
 declarations and conduct. The blame of the whole 
 transaction rests upon herself ; and the most that 
 she can do is to transfer it from her conduct at the 
 close, to her conduct at the beginning. Whatever 
 evil consequences may result to the individual 
 whom she has disappointed, she must charge, if 
 not upon her deliberate intention to injure, yet 
 upon her criminal neglect to avoid it. Let her 
 never open her lips to adduce her want of attach- 
 ment as the shadow of an apology. It amounts 
 only to an acknowledgment of her own caprice, 
 and with the discerning passes for absolutely 
 nothing. 
 
 During the period that intervenes between 
 forming an engagement and consummating the 
 connection, let your deportment towards the indi- 
 vidual, to whom you have given your afiections, 
 be marked by modesty and dignity, respect and 
 kindness. Never, on the one hand, give him the 
 least reason to question the sincerity of your regard, 
 nor on the other, sufier your intercourse with 
 him to be marked by an undignified familiarity. 
 
MARRIAGE. 
 
 161 
 
 Do all tliat you can to render him happy; and 
 while you will naturally grow in each other’s 
 confidence and affection, you may reasonably hope 
 that you will be helpers of each other’s joy, in 
 the most endearing of all human relations. 
 
CHAPTER XIIL 
 
 FOEMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS, 
 
 I HAVE now gone through with a consideration 
 of a number of those topics which I deem important 
 to you in practical life. There is one subject, 
 however, which concerns you more deeply than 
 any other, which remains to be considered. It 
 is the subject of Religion. It is this which is 
 identified with all your interests as an immortal 
 creature. A deficiency in other respects may 
 indeed occasion you much inconvenience in the 
 world ; but a radical deficiency here must extend 
 its influence beyond the grave, and be felt in 
 the unmitigated joangs of an eternal perdition. 
 
 The first branch of this momentous subject to 
 which I wish to call your attention is the formation 
 of your religious sentiments. It has been a doctrine 
 unhappily current in modern times, that our 
 religious characters do not, in any imjoortant sense, 
 derive their complexion from our religious opinions; 
 and the practical influence of this doctrine has 
 
FOKMING RELiaiOUS SENTIMENTS. 
 
 163 
 
 been exhibited in confounding the most important 
 distinctions in religion, and in annihilating, in 
 a great measure, the importance of Christian faith. 
 There are no doubt some truths in religion, con- 
 cerning which, a mistake does not constitute a 
 fundamental error; but it is equally true that 
 there are other great and commanding truths which 
 form the very soul of piety, the belief of which 
 must enter radically into our claim to Christian 
 character. For why have the truths of the Bible 
 been revealed, if it is not that they should be 
 believed ; and of what use can a revelation be to 
 us, if it be not so explicit that, with the proper 
 application of our faculties, we can ascertain what 
 are its leading and essential features? Moreover, 
 it is the system of divine truth that is the basis 
 of the whole fabric of practical religion. If religion 
 consist exclusively in being a good neighbour, 
 and in discharging the duties arising from our 
 social relations, I will admit that faith in its 
 doctrines may be dispensed with, and yet no very 
 perceptible chasm be made in the system. But 
 if it be vastly more comprehensive in its demands ; 
 if it have respect to the manner of our recon- 
 ciliation with an offended God ; if it embrace all 
 the mighty machinery of Providence with respect 
 
164 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 to our redemption, and all the duties which we 
 owe to God as well as man ; then it were as 
 absurd to suppose that you can discharge the great 
 duties of practical religion, while you are indifferent 
 to the truths of the Bible, as that the man should 
 calculate the distances of the planets, or conduct 
 a ship through the ocean, who was either ignorant 
 or incredulous in respect to the elementary prin- 
 ciples of navigation or astronomy. It is the prac- 
 tical reception of truth that constitutes the very 
 essence of piety ; and though there may be a 
 speculative belief of it without a particle of vital 
 godliness, be assured there can be no such thing as 
 genuine practical religion without an intellectual 
 assent to the truth of its doctrines. So far from 
 being unimportant, then, faith is one of the esential 
 elements of piety. 
 
 It is then a question of great moment, in what 
 manner you shall become possessed of a correct 
 system of religious opinions. To aid you in this 
 important matter, let me suggest the following 
 brief directions. 
 
 Let your opinions be drawn directly from the 
 Bible. I know it is the ordinance of Heaven that 
 the first impressions of divine truth which children 
 receive, should ordinarily be from their parents; 
 
FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 165 
 
 and it becomes parents to take heed that those 
 first impressions are correct; but even if your 
 parents should inculcate error, you can no longer 
 be innocent in holding it than while you are 
 incapable of referring their opinions to the law 
 and the testimony. The fact that certain doctrines 
 may have been taught you by the lips of parental 
 tenderness, is certainly a reason why you should 
 not lightly cast them from you; but it is due 
 to your own personal responsibility that you should 
 receive no doctrines ultimately on mere human 
 authority. So also you may derive much advantage 
 from studying the writings of uninspired men ; 
 but you are to bear in mind that they are fallible 
 like yourself, and that in adopting their opinions 
 as your own, without examination, you not only 
 refuse the privilege which God has given you, of 
 thinking for yourself, but you needlessly run the 
 hazard of embracing error. Having satisfied your- 
 self that the Bible is a revelation from God, you 
 are to receive implicitly whatever it contains, 
 however humbling to the pride of the intellect, 
 or opposed to the strongest propensities of the 
 heart. 
 
 But you will perhaps ask whether, inasmuch 
 
 as great minds have arrived at different and 
 M 
 
166 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 opposite conclusions in respect to v.^liat tlie Bible 
 contains, it be not a difficult matter to ascertain 
 its genuine doctrines; so difficult even as to dis- 
 courage exertion, and furnisli some apology for 
 an indolent acquiescence in human authority. I 
 answer, the fact to which I have adverted may 
 indeed be a reason for not taking up any opinions 
 rashly, but it is also an important argument for 
 not taking them upon trust; for if equally gifted 
 minds have rushed into opposite extremes, it is 
 certain that fine intellectual powers, unless guided 
 by a proper moral influence, do not furnish the 
 shadow of a security against error. The best 
 interpreter of Scripture, and the only safe one, 
 is good common sense, under the direction of a 
 humble and teachable temper. Let there be an 
 honest desire to know the truth, and let that 
 desire be directed to the Author of all spiritual 
 illumination, and let it be accompanied with a 
 diligent use of the means which are within our 
 reach, and we need have no fear of being left to 
 any fundamental error. If a powerful intellect 
 were essential to the right understanding of Scrip- 
 ture, you perceive at once that to the mass of 
 the world, who possess only common minds, it 
 would be a mere dead letter: but as no higher 
 
FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS, 
 
 167 
 
 intellectual powers are necessary than fall to the 
 common lot of man^ in connection with the spirit 
 of docility and dependence on divine illumination, 
 which all may, if they will, possess, it is manifest 
 that the Bible is fairly open to all j and that every 
 individual is as truly responsible for his religious 
 opinions as for his moral conduct. 
 
 In endeavouring to ascertain the doctrines of 
 the Bible, it were desirable that you should bear 
 in mind that the obvious meaning of a passage is 
 generally the correct one; for if it were not so, 
 it would be impossible for mankind in general 
 ever to gain an intelligent conviction of its truth. 
 And, if I mistake not, one of the most fruitful 
 sources of error is found in a disposition to over- 
 look the obvious meaning and search for something 
 hidden ; something that shall bear the impression 
 of novelty or of mystery. Far be it from me to 
 question that the Bible is an inexhaustible treasury 
 of wisdom ; and it is one of its glorious peculiarities 
 that it will supply materials for reflection to the 
 noblest intellect, and v/iil reward its most diligent 
 researches, through every period of its existence. 
 FTevertheless, its leading doctrines are fairly within 
 the reach of common minds in common circuin- 
 stances; and if you approach it, satisfied to receive 
 
1G8 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 the obvious sense as the true sense, there is no 
 danger that you will be left to adopt the specula- 
 tions and vagaries of a false theology. A system 
 of error is never deduced from the Bible easily 
 and naturally: it is only by being subjected to 
 the torture of a false construction. 
 
 The true system of religion must, in every 
 respect, correspond with the character of God. 
 As religion includes the great system of the divine 
 administration, it is impossible but that every part 
 of it must be agreeable to his infinitely perfect 
 nature. Any system of doctrine then which 
 tarnishes any of the divine attributes, which is 
 inconsistent with the highest exercise of wisdom, 
 goodness, justice, faithfulness, or holiness, cannot 
 be true, and of course can never have been revealed 
 by a God of truth. I admit that in the mani- 
 festation of these perfections there may be depths 
 which the line of no human understanding can 
 fathom ; and hence the Bible may and does, in a 
 certain sense, contain mysteries; but any doctrine 
 which is perceived to be irreconcilable with the 
 free and perfect exercise of any of these attributes, 
 any doctrine which exhibits them at variance with 
 each other, and which would of course leave the 
 divine character to sufier in the view of the in tel- 
 
FOBMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 
 
 1G9 
 
 ligent creation, must be the product of proud and 
 erring reason. It will be well for you to inquire 
 in respect to every doctrine that is proposed to 
 your faith, what is its bearing upon the character 
 of God ? Is it honourable or dishonourable to any 
 or all of the divine perfections ? And if you can 
 decide this question satisfactorily, you need not 
 hesitate as to the ultimate conclusion. 
 
 But if the true system of religion must be agree- 
 able to the perfections of God, equally certain is 
 it that it must be accommodated to the condition 
 of man; for one grand design of it is to secure 
 and perfect human happiness. To say nothing of 
 man as a social being, and of the fact that the 
 Gospel might be expected to supply rules for the 
 regulation of his conduct in this capacity — it re- 
 quires but little knowledge of one’s self, and little 
 observation on the conduct of others, to arrive 
 at the conclusion that man is a sinner, and as 
 such has exposed himself to the displeasure of 
 God. Most unquestionably, then, no system of 
 religion could be suited to the actual exigencies 
 of human nature, but one that should offer a two- 
 fold deliverance — a deliverance from the punishment 
 of sin, and from the dominion of sin; for even if 
 the sinner’s guilt were cancelled, yet if he were 
 
170 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 still left tlie slave of evil propensities^ forgiveness 
 itself would be no blessing. You perceive that a 
 system of religion which should merely prescribe 
 a course of external morality, however it might 
 be accommodated to man as a social being, would 
 be very inadequate to the higher necessities of 
 his condition; any system short of that which 
 brings peace to the labouring conscience, and sancti- 
 fication to the polluted soul, in consistency with 
 the honour of the divine character and government, 
 as it could never answer the purpose for which 
 religion was designed, were no better than a mockery 
 of human woe. I need not say that a God of 
 love has never thus trifled vdth the wants of his 
 creatures. 
 
 The true system of religion must also be rational. 
 There may be, and there are, as I have already 
 intimated, doctrines, which in some of their lofty 
 and intricate bearings we may not be able to com- 
 prehend; but even these doctrines, so far as they 
 are practical in the present state of our existence, 
 commend themselves both to the understanding 
 and the conscience. That they are above human 
 reason certainly cannot be questioned; but that 
 they are contrary to it never has been, and never 
 can be shown. God addresses us in the Bible 
 
FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 171 
 
 as rational beings; of course the truths which he 
 reveals and requires us to believe must be con- 
 formable to the reason which he has given us, 
 and to which he primarily addresses the revelation. 
 To receive any doctrine that is contrary to reason, 
 were to insult the dignity of our own nature; 
 to reject any doctrine merely because it is above 
 reason, were to claim a right to sit in judgment on 
 the decisions of the highest. 
 
 The true system of religion must be consistent 
 with itself. Truth is always consistent; and as 
 we have a right here to assume that whatever 
 the Bible contains is truth, it follows that there 
 must exist a perfect harmony among its various 
 doctrines. There are indeed some portions of Scrip- 
 ture which may be hard to be understood, and 
 may seem susceptible of some variety of interpreta- 
 tion; but in every such case the true rule is to 
 judge of what is doubtful by what is clear. And 
 if there be some passages which seem at first view 
 to be inconsistent with the leading doctrines of 
 the Gospel, it is right to presume that these con- 
 stitute an exception from the general remark that 
 the obvious meaning is the true meaning ; and 
 in every such case it is probable that a more 
 attentive examination of the passage in its con- 
 
172 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 nection will disclose some other sense than that 
 which lies most upon the surface, which is con- 
 sistent with the general tenor of revealed truth. 
 
 The true system of religion must be adapted 
 to make men better. It is impossible but that 
 an infinitely holy God should desire that his in- 
 telligent creatures should be holy; and it were 
 absurd to suppose that he should have given them 
 a system of religion which is not adapted to make 
 them so. Accordingly, one grand argument for 
 the divine origin of Christianity is found in the 
 holiness of its doctrines ; in the fact that it ex- 
 hibits the lines of moral purity in such boldness 
 and strength, that it could have been no other 
 than a heaven-born system. If this be so, it follows 
 that no doctrine which is fitted in any way to 
 loosen the bands of moral obligation, or to license 
 any of the evil propensities of the heart, either 
 directly or indirectly, can be a genuine doctrine 
 of the Bible. It is safe to presume that that 
 system which fosters a habit of indifference to 
 practical godliness, and supplies the human heart 
 with arguments for sinful indulgence, is a system 
 of error. It is equally safe to conclude that that 
 system which makes men humble and meek before 
 God, benevolent and useful to their fellow-creatures, 
 
FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS. 
 
 173 
 
 which exerts an influence, silent indeed, but certain 
 to bring up the human character toward the stan- 
 dard of divine perfection, is the system which 
 bears the signature of heaven, and in tlie prac- 
 tical reception of which men become wise unto 
 salvation. 
 
 Before I close this chapter, let me urge you 
 in the adoption of your religious sentiments, to 
 keep in view the solemnities of a dying hour. 
 Nothing will be more likely than this to guard 
 you against fatal error. If your opinions are formed 
 not only in the season of health, but with reference 
 to the continuance of health and of life, there 
 is great danger that they will prove to be another 
 gospel, and will be so many thorns in your dying 
 pillow. There is danger that you will take up 
 with some wretched system of error, which will 
 serve as a present opiate to the conscience, but 
 wliich will leave conscience to rise upon you at 
 last, when you can do nothing to silence her accu- 
 sations. But if in all your inquiries for the truth, 
 you keep in view the last hour of your probation ; 
 and if, before adopting any doctrine or system 
 of doctrine, you ask yourself how you will be 
 likely to regard it when the current of life is 
 ebbing away- — whether it will come up to your 
 
174 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 mind tlien as a minister of peace or a minister 
 of wratli — I say, if you deal tlius lionestly witli 
 yourself, you can liardly fail to draw from the 
 Bible those precious truths which holy men of God 
 spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost. 
 
CHAPTEE XIV. 
 
 PROPEH MODE OF TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR. 
 
 Notwithstanding I have advised you to search 
 the Scriptures as the only infallible standard of 
 religious faith, and to admit no doctrine into your 
 creed, merely upon human testimony, you cannot 
 suppose that I am indifferent as to the result 
 of your religious inquiries. I have indeed no fear, 
 if you read the Bible with an honest heart, and 
 with a sincere desire to know the truth, that 
 you will fall into any fundamental or dangerous 
 error : but after all it must be acknowledged that 
 not a small number of those who have made the 
 word of God their constant study, and have em- 
 ployed all the power of genius, and all the apparatus 
 of criticism, in their biblical pursuits, have given 
 us the result of their labours in systems of religion 
 which have nothing to sanctify or elevate the 
 affections; nothing to hush the clamours of con- 
 science; nothing to illumine the cheerlessness of 
 affliction, or the desolation of the grave. As the 
 
17G 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 Gospel is designed to furnish the means of restora- 
 tion and salvation to ruined man, I am persuaded, 
 if you examine it with a teachable temper, that 
 you will find its cardinal doctrines to be, atone- 
 ment by the blood, and sanctification by the Spirit 
 of a Divine Saviour. All the other truths which 
 it reveals you will find to be in perfect consistency 
 vdth these fundamental ones ; making in their 
 combination a system which, while it brings glory 
 to God in the highest, secures to the repenting 
 sinner all and more than all the blessings which 
 sin has forfeited. 
 
 But if the result of your examination should 
 be a conviction that the system to which I have 
 adverted is that which the Gospel reveals, you 
 will find that the world abounds with other systems, 
 some of which have scarcely anything in common 
 with that which you adopt. There is one system 
 which exhibits the Gospel as only the religion of 
 nature in a more attractive dress; which pours 
 contempt upon the impressions of the awakened 
 sinner, and blots out the precious doctrine of atone- 
 ment, and cuts off the only hope of forgiveness, 
 and leaves the mind to wander over a dark, blank 
 waste, collecting as it wanders nothing but im- 
 pressions of despair. There is another system which 
 
MODE OF TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR. 177 
 
 perverts the doctrine of redemption, by representing 
 the sacrifice of Christ as cancelling the obligations 
 of holy obedience ; substituting for that living faith 
 which purifies the heart and controls the life, the 
 naked impression that Christ died for us in parti- 
 cular. And there is another system still, which 
 completely neutralizes the most awful sanctions 
 of our religion; which represents all its terrors 
 as a fable, and throws wide open the doors of 
 heaven to all the impenitent and unholy. And 
 yet, after all, each of these systems professes to 
 bear the impress of divinity, to be the true and 
 genuine Gospel; and their respective advocates ex- 
 pect you to hail them as fellow- disciples of a 
 common Master. To assist you to a proper decision 
 on this subject, let me request your attention to 
 the following hints. 
 
 Make it a rule never to withhold your charity on 
 any slight or equivocal evidence. To declare your 
 conviction that a person holds another gospel, is 
 a thing of too much moment to be hazarded on 
 any grounds wliich are not the most satisfactory. 
 Better far to err on the extreme of forbearance 
 than intolerance. Mild measures are much better 
 fitted to exert a reclaiming influence than severe 
 ones. A little severity may place a religious 
 
178 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 errorist for ever beyond your reach; whereas a 
 condescending treatment of him may be the means 
 of dissipating his errors, and establishing him in 
 the truth. 
 
 Moreover, I would advise you never to impute 
 to others doctrines which they disavow, because 
 they may appear to you to form an essential part 
 of their general system. Cheerfully give them 
 credit for every truth they will acknowledge; and 
 be very slow to decide that the connection between 
 a fundamental doctrine, and one which is not so, 
 is so close, that the latter may not be given up, 
 while the former is with some degree of consistency 
 retained. The system of religious truth is indeed 
 perfectly harmonious; but its parts are not all 
 equally important. It is a structure from which 
 you may remove some remote appendage, and you 
 vdll only injure its proportion, or deface its beauty ; 
 but take away one of its main pillars, and the 
 whole fabric tumbles to ruins. 
 
 Set it down as a principle, tlierefore, that all 
 minor differences in religious opinion are to be 
 treated with candour and lenity. It is a reproach 
 to the Christian cause, that the jealousy and 
 intolerance of its professed advocates have erected 
 so many v/alls of partition to . exclude each other 
 
MODE OP TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR. 179 
 
 from the affectionate interchange of Christian offices; 
 and it is a fact upon which my eye novr fastens, 
 as the day-star of millennial glory, that the little 
 strifes and jealousies which have prevailed among 
 different denominations, to the distraction of the 
 church, are beginning to lose themselves in a 
 growing attachment to the common cause. It is 
 our duty indeed to endeavour to reclaim the wan- 
 dering from every species of error; but the boun- 
 dary of our Christian charity must be nothing less 
 than that sacred line which encircles the fund- 
 amental doctrines of the Gospel. If we deliberately 
 exclude from Christian fellowship those who hold 
 the grand peculiarities of our faith, we do it at the 
 peril of rejecting those whom God has accepted. 
 
 But while I make all these concessions in favour 
 of Catholicism, far be it from me to leave an 
 impression on your mind, that it were safe to 
 receive to the hallowed embrace of Christian charity 
 those who reject any of the fundamental truths of 
 religion. With Christian forbearance in respect 
 to doctrines that are not fundamental, you must 
 combine Christian independence with respect to 
 those that are ; and every Christian ought to shrink 
 from any act which implies indifference to the 
 great foundation of the Gospel scheme, as he Vv^ould 
 
180 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 shrink from the guilt of betraying his master wuth 
 a kiss. The only consistent course for those who 
 build their hopes of heaven upon the great truths 
 of the Bible — the only course which their own 
 principles will justify — is to take their stand by 
 the cardinal doctrines of the Gospel ; and whoever 
 may lift the standard of persecution^ or whoever 
 may chaunt the praises of liberality, to guard these 
 truths with the most sacred vigilance. You may 
 as well think to blend the darkest shades of mid- 
 night with the blaze of the noonday sun, without 
 dissipating the gloom of the one, or softening the 
 radiance of the other, as to attempt a compromise 
 between systems of religion, one of which admits, 
 and the other rejects, the great doctrine of redemp- 
 tion, by the atoning blood and life-giving spirit 
 of Christ. 
 
 But notwithstanding you are to be decided in 
 your treatment of fundamental error, you should 
 be on your guard, even in respect to this, against 
 every approach to a bitter and censorious spirit. 
 It is not the spirit which will recommend your 
 religious views to others, or which can furnish to 
 yourself any evidence of their correctness from 
 their practical tendency. Besides, as I have already 
 intimated, no person was ever reclaimed from error 
 
MODE OP TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR. 181 
 
 by being insulted or reproached; but not a few 
 have, by such a course, been steeled against con- 
 viction, and driven to the extreme of heresy. The 
 person whom you may not be able to recognize 
 as a Christian, you may still treat with the kindness 
 and courtesy of a friend: you may mingle with 
 him in the kind offices and charities of life; you 
 may cautiously avoid reproaching him with his 
 errors; you may go like an angel of mercy to his 
 sick bed ; and you may keep him constantly under 
 the influence of your gentle and winning deport- 
 ment; and who knows but that in this way you 
 may save a soul from death and hide a multitude 
 of sins ? 
 
 I will only detain you further on this subject 
 with one word relative to religious controversy. 
 I do not care how much theological knowledge 
 you acquire, and I will not say that circumstances 
 may never occur, in which it may be proper for 
 you to use it in defence of the truths of the Gospel ; 
 but I beg that nothing may ever tempt you need- 
 lessly to enlist in any religious dispute. When a 
 woman takes up the weapons of theological warfare, 
 unless at the imperative call of duty, the native 
 loveliness of female character is instantly eclipsed. 
 The modest and retiring virtues which are the 
 N 
 
182 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 peculiar ornament of your sex, can never find a 
 place amidst tlie din and clashing of religious 
 combatants. It was my lot^ not long since, to 
 encounter a sturdy female polemic in a stage coach; 
 and I must confess that, after a little while, she 
 succeeded in driving me effectually from the field; 
 not because I was apprehensive of being crushed 
 by the weight of her arguments, but because, when 
 I came to reflect, it cost me less mortification to 
 yield to her the honour of an apparent triumph, 
 than to keep the attitude which I had incautiously 
 taken of discussing the most momentous of all 
 subjects, in such circumstances, with a talldng 
 female, whose element was controversy. I con- 
 fidently trust that the time will never come, when 
 the cause of truth will require the polemic influence 
 of females. 
 
 I have dwelt thus minutely on the several points 
 involved in the subject of this chapter, not from 
 a conviction that they would all be of the same 
 importance to you as they might be to a minister 
 of the Gospel, but because I wish you, on every 
 subject connected with practical life, to have some 
 fixed principles, which will always be ready for 
 application. 
 
CHAPTER XV« 
 
 PEACTICAL EELIGION. 
 
 In a preceding chapter I have endeavoured to 
 impress you with the importance of correct views 
 of the great truths of religion. Such views unques- 
 tionably lie at the foundation of every right exercise 
 of the affections, and of whatever is truly good 
 in the life. Nevertheless, correct opinions are in 
 themselves of comparatively little importance, unless 
 they are suffered to exert their legitimate influence 
 in forming and elevating the character. You 
 may have all knowledge and all faith f you may 
 be unwavering in your conviction of the truth, 
 and even be able to confound gainsayers, and yet 
 if in all this there be nothing that reaches the 
 heart and influences the conduct, your character 
 in the eye of God is but little removed from that 
 of an unbeliever. You may indeed pass for a 
 Christian with the world, or at least with the 
 undiscerning part of it, and possibly you may 
 imagine yourself one: but the hour of affliction, 
 
184 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 and tlie hour of death, and above all, the light of 
 eternity, which will put your Christianity to the 
 test, will prove it to be a mere name- — an ineffi- 
 cient speculation, not a practical and sustaining 
 principle. 
 
 I have said that practical religion has its begin- 
 ning in the understanding. Beligious truth being 
 apprehended by the mind, spreads its influence over 
 the afiections, and through them that influence is 
 carried out into every department of action. There 
 is no mystery in all this — no departure from the 
 common operation of the principles of human 
 nature : on the contrary, it is conformed to all the 
 analogies of experience. You believe that a beloved 
 friend is wandering unconsciously on the verge 
 of a precipice, and liable every moment to an 
 irrecoverable and fatal plunge. This conviction 
 operates irresistibly upon your aflections, stirring 
 up in your bosom the deepest compassion and 
 anxiety. And these same feelings which cause 
 your heart to throb on account of the danger of 
 your friend, will lead you to rush towards the 
 fearful precipice, and admonish your friend of her 
 perilous circumstances; and if need be, even to lay 
 hold of her, and rescue her from destruction. Now 
 this is a fair illustration of what I mean by practi- 
 
CONTEMPLATION. 
 
 W'RM': Piim 3t Son, Publishers . 
 G-LASGOW, LOOT ON- 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION, 185 
 
 cal religion. You read in the Bible, and your own 
 conscience certifies you of the fact, that you are a 
 sinner; and you read that God has given his Son 
 to die for your redemption; and that in virtue of 
 that redemption the horrors of hell may be escaped, 
 and the glories of heaven attained. These truths 
 you intelligently believe ; and the first effect of this 
 belief is uj)on the affections — to induce humility, 
 and penitence, and gratitude; and these cannot 
 remain dormant, but must have their operation in 
 the life in producing obedience to all God’s com- 
 mandments. I ask again, is anything more simple, 
 more intelligible, more rational than this? And 
 yet this is practical religion — the Christianity not 
 of the understanding only, but especially of the 
 heart and life. 
 
 It is important here to remark, that it belongs 
 to genuine practical religion to control alike the 
 affections and the external conduct. There are 
 those who will have it that to be religious is merely 
 to be susceptible of a v/arm glow of feeling, to be 
 able to weep profusely under the solemn and affect- 
 ing truths of the Gospel, and to talk with fervour 
 and sensibility of the progress or the decline of 
 religion around them ; while the every-day duties 
 of the Christian life, which require action as well 
 
18G 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 as feeling, are unhappily regarded as not among 
 the weightier matters of the law. And there are 
 those, on the other hand, who seem willing to have 
 their hands put in requisition, while yet they prac- 
 tically claim a dispensation for the heart; who 
 cheerfully perform every deed of justice and charity 
 which devolves upon them in their intercourse with 
 their fellow-men, and are even models of external 
 morality, who nevertheless seem to regard repent- 
 ance, and faith, and devotion, as works of supe- 
 rerogation — at least as not being essential to the 
 religious character. Now, both these classes are 
 equally in a mistake. Practical religion does not 
 assert its claims exclusively either over the heart 
 or the life; but alike over both. The truths which 
 you believe must exert their influence in the pro- 
 duction of holy affections ; and those affections must 
 exert their influence in leading to a holy life. If 
 you make your religion consist merely in feeling, 
 or merely in action, it is at best a partial religion, 
 and will never answer the great purpose of your 
 acceptance with God. 
 
 It is a consideration not to be overlooked in 
 connection with this subject, that practical religion 
 never exists independently of the operation of the 
 Holy Spirit. Such is the natural perverseness of 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION. 187 
 
 the liearfcj that it never yields up its rebellion^ and 
 becomes transformed into the divine likeness, until 
 it is wrought upon by the almighty agency of God. 
 Eut this agency, let it be always remembered, is 
 of such a character as not to supersede but to in- 
 volve the exercise of the human faculties. iNot- 
 vvdthstanding it is sovereign in its nature (for the 
 very idea of salvation by grace implies sovereignty), 
 it is in perfect accordance with all the laws of moral 
 action; so that the sinner actually makes his very 
 highest efforts precisely at the time when he is the 
 subject of the most powerful divine agency. The 
 moral actions he performs at the period of his 
 transformation into the divine image, are as truly 
 his own as if* he were in every sense an independent 
 agent; and yet God works as really, though not 
 in the same manner, as he did in the original 
 creation. This is the uniform doctrine of Scrip- 
 ture; and perhaps there is no single passage in 
 v/hich^ it is more clearly contained, than that in 
 which the apostle exhorts the Christians, to whom 
 he v/as writing, to work out their own salvation 
 with fear and trembling, giving it as a reason that 
 it was God who worked within them, both to will 
 and to do of his good pleasure. 
 
 But you will ask, perhaps, whether there is not 
 
188 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 here something of mystery; and will inquire for an 
 explanation of this coincidence between the agency 
 of the Creator and the agency of the creature, in 
 the production of this wonderful result. I answer 
 unhesitatingly, that I know nothing on this subject, 
 and expect to know nothing in this world, beyond 
 the simple fact. That it is so is amply proved, 
 not only by Scripture but experience; but how it 
 is so is a problem which, to say the least, must be 
 reserved to exercise the faculties in a higher state 
 of existence. To reject a fact of which we have 
 all the evidence of which it is susceptible, merely 
 because we cannot explain everything that is 
 connected with it, were certainly the height of 
 infatuation. Upon this principle we should resign 
 ourselves to a universal scepticism; for what object 
 is there in nature, which, when subjected to a 
 rigid examination, does not present mysteries, 
 before which the highest human reason must own 
 itself confounded. 
 
 Practical religion is begun and sustained through 
 the influence of the truth — the doctrines and pre- 
 cepts of the Bible, and retains a perfect identity 
 of character in every variety of circumstances. I 
 do not mean that it confounds all the distinctions 
 of society; for such was never intended to be its 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION. 189 
 
 effect; but it does, in the most important sense, 
 lay a foundation for a community of interest and 
 feeling. It conforms the human character every- 
 where to the same standard. Everywhere, it is 
 accompanied by the same joys and sorrows, the 
 same fears, and hopes, and aspirations. You may 
 bring together persons from the most opposite 
 walks of society, and if you please from opposite 
 sides of the globe; persons whose feelings and 
 habits on other subjects have little or nothing in 
 common, and let each of them have a principle of 
 genuine religion, and if they speak the same lan- 
 guage, they will recognize each other as brethren, 
 and they will be able to report a common expe- 
 rience, and the same spirit of love to their Master, 
 and love to each other, and love to their fellow-men 
 will glow in the bosom of each, and they will be 
 looking forward alike to heaven as their final home. 
 The most cultivated mind, and the most unculti- 
 vated, may be brought together, and, supposing 
 both to be deeply imbued with genuine religion, 
 they will feel at home in each other’s society : there 
 will be one point, though there be only one, at 
 which they can meet on the same level, and hold 
 intelligent and delightful communion. 
 
 It is another attribute of practical religion, that 
 
190 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 it is enduring. Wlio does not know how fugitive 
 and uncertain are the possessions of the world — • 
 how riches take to themselves wings to fly away — • 
 how the voice of human applause is often changed 
 almost in an instant into the voice of execration — 
 how pleasure turns into pain in the very moment 
 of enjoyment — how even natural aflection itself 
 Vfill grow cold and shy, and Anally give place to 
 deep rooted enmity and bitter resentment? But 
 not so with religion. Let the change of external 
 circumstances be what it may, let the fate of other 
 possessions be as it will, this is sure to remain 
 through every vicissitude. A principle of religion, 
 once implanted in the heart, can never be eradi- 
 cated, and can never cease to exert its influence. 
 It will live in every clime; it will survive every 
 calamity; and it will brighten into a higher and 
 holier perfection in better worlds. 
 
 But not only is practical religion something that 
 will endure, but something which, even here, is 
 destined to increase. The principle when flrst im- 
 planted in the heart is indeed feeble in its opera- 
 tions ; and if we were to form our opinion without 
 the aid of experience, and without recourse to the 
 divine testimony, we should decide unhesitatingly 
 that there was little reason to expect that this 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION. 
 
 191 
 
 principle could ever reach a full and strong matu- 
 rity. But it is the ordinance of God that it should 
 be so; and the truth is illustrated and confirmed 
 by every Christian’s experience. There may indeed 
 be seasons of occasional declension, and there may 
 be seasons of so much darkness as to create the 
 most painful apprehension that the heart has never 
 yet practically recognized the claims of religion. 
 ^Nevertheless, on the whole, there is a constant pro- 
 gress in the Christian’s experience ; though his steps 
 may be feeble and faltering, he is still gradually 
 rising towards perfection, gradually gaining new 
 victories over indwelling corruption, enlarging the 
 sphere of his benevolent activity, and coming nearer 
 and nearer the standard of perfect holiness. It is 
 said by an inspired writer, with equal truth and 
 beauty, that ^^the path of the just is as the shining 
 light, shining more and more unto the perfect day.” 
 
 There are two distinct views in which we may 
 regard practical religion, as it stands connected 
 with the trials of life; as triumphing over them, 
 and yet as being advanced and strengthened by 
 them. When you talk of human suffering, there 
 is a chord in every bosom that vibrates in a re- 
 sponse to the truth of what you say. The trials 
 of mankind are indeed almost infinitely diversified ; 
 
192 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 there are scarcely two individuals whose cup of sor- 
 row is composed of precisely the same ingredients; 
 but there is not a solitary individual whose personal 
 experience does not furnish ample testimony that 
 this world is a vale of tears. There are those^ it 
 may be, who, to the surrounding world, always 
 bear a cheerful aspect, and who might almost leave 
 an impression, by the uniform gladness of the coun- 
 tenance, that the sorrows of life had never invaded 
 their hearts. But if you could know all that passes 
 within — if you could, even for a single week, have 
 access to every secret thought and feeling, you 
 would no doubt find that, though the countenance 
 seemed always to beam with joy, yet the heart was 
 often overburdened with sadness. There are com- 
 paratively few who do not, at some time or other, 
 become the objects of sympathy from being 023enly 
 bufietted by the storms of adversity; but there are 
 few, too, who do not experience trials, and some- 
 times those which bring into the heart the keenest 
 anguish — of which the world knows nothing. Now 
 I say with confidence, that practical religion confers 
 upon its possessor a glorious triumph amidst the 
 sorrows of life. Suppose jooverty come with its 
 train of calamities; or suppose detraction point its 
 barbed arrows against a blameless character; or 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION. 193 
 
 suppose bereavement cast a withering shade upon 
 the best earthly hopes and joys; or suppose disease, 
 which mocks the highest efforts both of friendship 
 and of skill, impress itself upon the countenance 
 and make its lodgment in the very seat of life — or 
 suppose, if you please, that this whole tribe of evils 
 come marching in fearful array to assail an indi- 
 vidual at once, I am sure that I do not say too 
 much for practical religion, when I declare to you 
 that it will enable its possessor to meet them all 
 in serenity and triumph. To do this must require 
 a high effort of faith, I acknowledge ; but only such 
 an effort as has been exemplified in the experience 
 of thousands. Oh ! when I have stood amidst such 
 scenes, and witnessed the sweet aspirations of hope, 
 and seen the bright beams of joy irradiate the 
 countenance over which sorrow had thrown her 
 deepest shades, just as the bow casts its brilliant 
 hues upon the dark cloud in the going down of the 
 sun, I have looked upon religion as a bright angel 
 come down from heaven to exercise a sovereign 
 influence over human calamity; and if I have 
 formed a wish or offered a prayer in respect to you 
 at such a moment, it has been that this good angel 
 may be your constant attendant through this vale 
 of tears. 
 
194 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 But while there is an energy in religion to sus- 
 tain the soul amidst the calamities of life^ this 
 energy, instead of being lessened, is increased by 
 the influence of these calamities. Let religion 
 emerge from a scene in which she has kept some 
 child of distress from sinking in the deep waters, 
 or in which she has bound up some heart that has 
 been smitten by the rod of God, and you shall see 
 her more healthful and vigorous for having per- 
 formed these ofSces of mercy. In other words, 
 nothing is so well adapted to purify and brighten 
 the Cliristian graces as the furnace of affliction. 
 And hence we look for the noblest specimens of 
 Christian attainment, not among those who have 
 been always surrounded with the sunshine of jDros- 
 perity, but among those who have had to struggle 
 hard vfith the calamities of the world. Hot every 
 one, not even every Christian, whose lot is pecu- 
 liarly marked by adversity, experiences, at least in 
 the degree which he might, the benign effects of 
 which I have spoken; but the reason is, that he 
 does not receive his afflictions with a right spirit : 
 every Christian who is severely tried, may and 
 ought to be the better for it ; and if he be not so, 
 I do not say that he may not be saved, but let him 
 take heed lest it should be so as by fire. 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION, 195 
 
 I liave spoken of tlie triumpli of religion in 
 affliction; but sbe triumphs still more gloriously 
 in death. Yes, in that hour when the clustering 
 symptoms of dissolution proclaim that all is over; 
 when friends sit down and weep in silence because 
 they have done everything, and yet the beloved 
 object must die; when there is nothing now 
 thought of either by the dying or the mourning, 
 but the winding-sheet, and the grave, and the 
 region that lies beyond it; I say in that hour, 
 dark, and portentous, and terrible as it seems, 
 religion still triumphs. You may trace her foot- 
 steps amid that scene of desolation in expressions 
 of hope, and peace, and joy, and not unfrequently 
 in the serene and seraphic smile which she has left 
 upon the countenance, after she has ascended with 
 the spirit to a brighter world. Infidelity may be 
 brave in life, but she is a coward in death. True 
 I'eligion is never more courageous than when she 
 is acting as a guide in the dark valley; when with 
 one hand she opens the door of the sepulchre, as 
 a safe though temporary resting-place for the body, 
 and with the other, the gate of the heavenly city, 
 as the everlasting residence of the soul. 
 
 There is still more to be said for religion — for 
 her noblest triumph is in eternity. In the religion 
 
196 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 of the heart and life^ as it exists here, there is the 
 germ of that exceeding and eternal weight of glory, 
 which is to be the Christian’s portion hereafter. 
 Let no one talk of the brilliancy of an earthly 
 crown, when compared with the immortal splen- 
 dours of a crown of life. Let no one value earthly 
 treasures, when compared with the incorruptible 
 treasures which religion secures at God’s right 
 hand. Let no one set a high estimate upon the 
 intercourse of earthly friendship, when viewed in 
 comparison with an everlasting communion with 
 the spirits of the just made perfect, and with the 
 angels that burn before the throne, and even with 
 the infinitely perfect and redeeming God. When 
 we speak of the joys of heaven, we speak of that, 
 the full extent of which it hath not entered the 
 heart of man to conceive. It is in that world that 
 religion will sit enthroned, in the majesty of a 
 benign and perpetual triumph. 
 
 I have rarely seen the legitimate operations of 
 true religion in forming the character so sublimely 
 exemplified, as in the case of a reverend friend, 
 whom, not many years ago, I followed to the grave. 
 He was a man upon whom nature had bountifully 
 bestowed her choicest gifts, and who combined 
 every intellectual and moral quality which was 
 
PRACTICAL RELIGION. 
 
 197 
 
 necessary to stamp upon his character the seal of 
 greatness. But above all, he was a practical Chris- 
 tian. I knew him when his locks were silvered 
 with years, and his eyes were dim with age, and 
 his limbs tottered beneath their burden. On his 
 furrowed cheek sat the smile of contentment, the 
 living image of peace and joy. He could hardly 
 open his lips but in some expression of penitence 
 for his sins, or of thankfulness for his mercies. 
 While he was cheerful in the enjoyment of tem- 
 poral blessings, the eye of faith and hope was 
 fixed on heaven. I saw him when the impressions 
 of disease had fastened upon his countenance; when 
 the symptoms of dissolution were advancing in 
 slow but certain progress, and when eternity was 
 opening its doors to receive his almost disen- 
 thralled spirit. I watched him to see if I could 
 discover a symptom of terror or agitation, anything 
 like the shrinking back of the soul from the gTasp 
 of death : but all was calmness and triumph. J ust 
 as he had reached the boundary between earth and 
 heaven, I said, ^^My father, art thou dying in 
 peace?” and his animated expression told me that 
 the songs of seraphs were already trembling on his 
 ear. His dying eye shot forth a beam of rapture, 
 
 and told, in language more than mortal, the vigour 
 
 o 
 
198 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK* 
 
 of a oi^irit on tlie v/ing for immortality. Never 
 before did I bebold Christianity march with so 
 much triumph into the territories of death. The 
 scene is imprinted upon my memory, and I would 
 fain carry the impression of it to the grave. 
 
CHAPTER XYL 
 
 SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 I HAVE already endeavoured to inculcate upon you 
 tlie importance of your becoming a proficient in 
 various branches of useful knowledge. There is, 
 however, one branch of which I have hitherto said 
 nothing, which is incomparably more important to 
 you than all human science — I mean the know- 
 ledge of yourself. To this deeply interesting subject 
 suffer me now, in a few brief hints, to direct your 
 attention. 
 
 In self knowledge I include, in the first place, a 
 knowledge of your intellectual powers. It implies 
 that you understand the particular bent of your 
 own mind; in which of the faculties, if any, you are 
 especially deficient, and in which of them, if any, 
 you are particularly gifted; whether there is a 
 good degree of harmony naturally pervading the 
 powers of your mind, or whether there is reason 
 for special efibrt to give to those powers their due 
 balance. It implies also that you understand for 
 
200 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 wliat department of mental action your constitution 
 is best adapted, and in what field your efibrts 
 will be most likely to be successful. 
 
 In the knowledge of which I am speaking there 
 is also included an acquaintance with your moral 
 dispositions. There is perhaps as great a variety 
 of temper among mankind, as of countenance; 
 there being scarcely two individuals whose natural 
 feelings, when subjected to a rigid analysis, are 
 not found to be, in some respects, different. These 
 original qualities constitute, in a great degree, the 
 germ of the character; and in most instances, 
 whatever good or evil is accomplished, whatever 
 happiness or misery is experienced, no doubt is to 
 be traced, either directly or indirectly, to the leading 
 tendencies of our nature. With these tendencies, 
 as it respects yourself, you should be familiarly 
 acquainted: you should know what evil disposi- 
 tions you are most prone to indulge; at what 
 point you are most susceptible of being successfully 
 assailed by temptation; and at what point you 
 are capable of encountering temptation with the 
 best hope of success. 
 
 In self-knowledge is farther implied a knowledge 
 of your conduct. It would seem at first view 
 that every individual must know this as it respects 
 
SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 201 
 
 himself, whether he desires it or not; but the 
 real fact is, that there is much in the conduct 
 of most persons, of which, though it be perfectly 
 open to the world, they contrive to keep themselves 
 in ignorance. Not that they are unconscious of 
 their actions as they perform them; but they suffer 
 them to pass out of remembrance, and never make 
 them a subject of deliberate review, and still less 
 do they think of connecting them with each other 
 with a view to ascertain the habit of their life. 
 If you would know yourself, you must be familiar 
 with the tenor of your conduct from day to day — 
 of your conduct in all the circumstances in which 
 you are placed, and in all the relations which 
 you sustain. Whether it be such as conscience 
 approves or condemns, it must not be suffered to 
 escape your observation, or to slide prematurely 
 out of your remembrance. 
 
 You must know your motives also — the prin- 
 ciples by which your conduct is governed. Not 
 only the general habit of feeling, but the particular 
 motives which prompt to particular actions, should 
 be well understood; for it is possible that many 
 an action which, with the world, passes for a 
 splendid deed of benevolence, may, with Him who 
 inspects the motive, be nothing better than an 
 
202 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 act of gross hypocrisy; and on the other hand, 
 that actions which, to the world, bear a suspicious 
 character, may, to the Searcher of the heart, appear 
 praiseworthy and excellent. In short, every action 
 derives its moral character, not from the external 
 form which it may happen to assume, but from 
 the motive by which it is dictated. If you are 
 ignorant of the motive then, your ignorance is 
 radical. If you do not know this, you probably 
 know less of yourself than those who have an 
 opportunity of inspecting only your external 
 conduct. 
 
 You must know the various duties which devolve 
 upon you in the different relations of life; duties 
 which you owe both to God and man; and the 
 momentous considerations by which these duties 
 are enforced. In a ^vord, whatever relates to your 
 character as an intellectual, moral, or immortal 
 being, you ought distinctly to understand ; and 
 the whole extent of this enters into idie true idea 
 of self-knowledge 
 
 It is the tendency of self-knowledge to promote 
 your usefulness and assist you to select a proper 
 field for your activity. If an individual hajopen 
 to get into a sphere for which he is particularly 
 disqualified, let his intentions bo as good as they 
 
SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 203 
 
 may^ and let liis activity be ever so great^ it is 
 not improbable tliat greater injury than benefit will 
 result from Iiis exertions; whereas tlie same amount 
 of efibrt in a field for which Providence had fitted 
 him, might exert a blessed influence on many 
 successive generations. Self-knowledge is the grand 
 security against mistaking in this matter. If you 
 know well the peculiarities of your own mind 
 and temperament, the weak as well as the strong 
 points in your character, you will be in little 
 danger of engaging in enterprises for which God 
 never designed you; and on the other hand, you 
 vfill be likely to employ your powers on the most 
 suitable objects, and with the best effect. 
 
 Self-knowledge is fitted, moreover, to promote 
 your usefulness, as it imparts to you stability of 
 character. If you know little of yourself, you will 
 almost of course be liable to a sudden adoption 
 of opinions respecting truth and duty, and to an 
 equally sudden abandonment of them; and this 
 will produce a habit of instability both of feeling 
 and action, which will injure your usefulness by 
 weakening the confidence of others in your judg- 
 ment, and by rendering your efforts feeble and 
 inefficient. On the other hand, an intimate acquain- 
 tance with your own heart, as it will keep you from 
 
204 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 engaging in rash enterprises, will also make you 
 resolute and stable in respect to those in which you 
 actually engage ; and your facilities for doing good 
 will be increased by the favourable regard which 
 this habit of stability will secure to you from the 
 surrounding community. Is it not manifest then 
 that self-knowledge is one of the best pledges for 
 well directed activity and usefulness? 
 
 But how is this most desirable attainment to 
 be made? It is within the reach of every indi- 
 vidual, and yet there is reason to fear that the 
 multitude remain strangers to it. The reason is, 
 that they shrink from the effort necessary for 
 knowing themselves on the one hand, and dread 
 the result of an examination on the other. 
 
 If you would know yourself, it is essential that 
 you should habitually and faithfully perform the 
 duty of self-communion. You must not be con- 
 tented with looking merely at the external act, 
 but faithfully investigate the motives and principles 
 of your conduct. You must compare your actions, 
 not with any human standard, but with the rule 
 of duty which God has revealed in His Word. 
 You must let your examination be conducted 
 with great vigilance, with due deliberation, with 
 unyielding resolution, and with entire impartiality. 
 
SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 205 
 
 You must examine tlie operations of your mind 
 and heart in different states of feeling, and in 
 every variety of circumstances; and must compare 
 the result at one time with the result at another; 
 that thus you may be able to ascertain the general 
 tenor of your thoughts and feelings. A superficial 
 and occasional inspection of your heart will con- 
 tribute little to your stock of self-knowledge, and 
 may even expose you to fatal self-deception; but 
 an examination, conducted in the manner which 
 I have described, cannot fail in the end to render 
 you intimately acquainted with yourself. 
 
 Judicious and free conversation with Christian 
 fiiends is another important means of acquiring 
 self-knowledge. The truth is, that we often by 
 our conduct exliibit feelings and traits of character 
 which we are not conscious of possessing ; and 
 thus putting it in the power of our friends to 
 reveal to us the secrets of our own hearts. And 
 though this is a matter upon which we ought 
 not to converse too indiscriminately, yet it may 
 very safely and properly become a subject of 
 conversation with those in whom we repose special 
 confidence; and they may be of immense advantage 
 to us by giving us their honest impressions in 
 respect to that part of our conduct which falls 
 
206 ’ THE lady’s own book. 
 
 under tlieir observation. 'Nsij, we may often learn 
 important lessons in respect to ourselves by watch- 
 ing the conduct of others towards us; for it is 
 more than probable, if they know us intimately, 
 that they judge correctly respecting our character, 
 and their treatment of us will almost certainly 
 reveal their true opinion. If, for instance, the 
 careless world treat a professing Christian habitu- 
 ally as if he w^ere one of themselves, you may 
 calculate, with absolute assurance, that he has 
 become a backslider; and many a professor, no 
 doubt, if he would, might learn from the treat- 
 ment which he receives from the world, that 
 he is beginning to wander, while he has scarcely 
 begun to suspect it from observation upon his 
 own conduct, or from an examination of his ovm 
 heart. 
 
 Heading the Scriptures and prayer are among 
 the most important of all the means of self-know- 
 ledge. The former, by exhibiting in the divine 
 law a perfect standard of duty, and by exhibiting 
 the character of man in every variety of condition 
 and under every kind of influence, brings us 
 acquainted, more than all other books, with the 
 most secret springs of human action. The latter 
 secures God’s blessing upon eveiy other effort, 
 
SELF-KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 207 
 
 while it brings to our aid a direct divine illumin- 
 ation. Study the Bible, then, daily and diligently, 
 and pray -without ceasing for the enlightening 
 influence of God’s Spirit, and you will soon be a 
 proficient in self-knowledge. 
 
CHAPTER XYIL 
 
 SELF-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 Perhaps there is nothing in which religion displays 
 a more heavenly triumph, than in the power which 
 she gives us of controlling ourselves. The shock 
 of the apostacy has given to the moral principles 
 of our nature a wrong direction; and all the 
 power which reason and conscience can exert, 
 without the influence of religion, is insufiicient 
 to subdue and control our native propensities. 
 Practical Christianity, however, is powerful enough 
 to deliver us from this unhappy thraldom. It is 
 by her omnipotent and all-j)ervading influence that 
 the thoughts are disciplined to flow in a proper 
 channel, the passions and appetites subjected to 
 the control of reason, and the tongue bridled against 
 sinful levity and unhallowed reproach. 
 
 But inasmuch as religion ]*egards you as a 
 rational and accountable being, she accomplishes 
 this redemption not by any magical or arbitrary 
 process, but by subjecting you to laws which are 
 
SELF-GOVERNMENT. 209 
 
 altogether fitted to your moral nature. If then 
 you will escape from the dominion of unhallowed 
 thoughts and tempers, you must surrender yourself 
 to the practical influence of the Gospel ; you must 
 resolutely break away from the enchanted ground 
 of temptation ; you must be daily conversant with 
 that Almighty Power, which alone can arm you for 
 a conflict with yourself ; you must learn to detect 
 the deceitful and wandering imagination, and sta- 
 tion a vigilant sentinel at every watchtower of your 
 heart. To think of acquiring a habit of self-govern- 
 ment independently of the influence of religion, 
 were as wild as to think of assuaging the elements 
 by a word, when they are wrought up to the fury of 
 a tempest. 
 
 An important part of self-government respects 
 the thoughts. It is a delusion into which we easily 
 fall, that if our external deportment be correct and 
 exemplary, it matters little what are the secret 
 operations of the mind. The thoughts, because 
 they are invisible, are regarded as being scarcely 
 within our control; and no doubt many a mind 
 finds an apology for gross and habitual wanderings, 
 in a sort of indefinite conviction that the imagina- 
 tion was made to have its own way, and therefore it 
 is in vain to attempt to restrain it. , So long as the 
 
210 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 tongue is kept from giving utterance to the evil 
 thoughts which occupy the mind, it is most unwar- 
 rantably concluded that they may be indulged with- 
 out injury. But the thoughts^ let it be remembered^ 
 are among the primary elements of moral action. 
 If they are habitually wrong, the feelings will be so 
 also ; and the thoughts and feelings together consti- 
 tute, in the view of God, the whole moral character. 
 The moment you yield to the conviction that no 
 restraint is needed here, you resolve on a course 
 which must make you odious in the sight of Hea- 
 ven j and nothing but the well sustained and unde- 
 tected character of a hypocrite can save you from 
 being odious in the view of the world. 
 
 I acknowledge that the duty to which I am 
 urging you — that of exercising a suitable control 
 over your thoughts — ^is one of the most difficult to 
 which you can be called ; and it were in vain to 
 think of discharging it without severe effort. You 
 should endeavour habitually to realize that you are 
 as truly responsible to God for the indulgence of a 
 vain imagination, as you would be if every evil 
 thought that rises in your heart were embodied in 
 the form of a palpable action. You should guard 
 against the beginning of such a habit; for if it were 
 once firmly established there is scarcely any other 
 
r 
 
 SELF-GOVEKNMENT. 211 
 
 liabit wliicli miglit not with less difficulty be broken 
 up ; for this reason especially, that this is invisible, 
 and of course not to be affected by any considera- 
 tions drawn from external circumstances. You 
 should guard against all those scenes and occasions 
 which may be likely to throw you into the power of 
 these invisible tyrants, or to lead you even in the 
 smallest degree to relax your circumspection. You 
 should especially guard the senses; for these are 
 the principal avenues through which vain thoughts 
 find their way into the soul. Eut let the effort 
 necessary to this branch of self-government be as 
 severe as it may, let nothing tempt you to neglect 
 it; for you may rest assured that it constitutes, 
 in an important sense, the keystone to a virtuous 
 character. 
 
 But you must not only look well to the govern- 
 ment of the thoughts, but also of the passions and 
 affections. This especially is the department of the 
 soul in which motives operate, and where are fixed 
 all the springs of human accountability. It is in- 
 deed at the torch of the imagination that the pas- 
 sions are usually kindled ; and this is a reason why 
 the imagination should be kept with all diligence ; 
 but the passions will never be held in subjection, 
 unless there be employed in reference to this object 
 
212 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 a great amount of direct effort. So active and 
 powerful are tliey that they will often plead their 
 own cause, not only eloquently but successfully, 
 against reason, conscience, and character; and many 
 an individual has sacrificed at the shrine of passion 
 everything dear on earth, everything glorious in 
 eternity. 
 
 As there is a great variety in the human consti- 
 tution, the different passions will be found to exist, 
 in different individuals, with very unequal degrees of 
 strength; insomuch that what constitutes the ruling 
 passion of one, may operate with comparatively 
 little strength in another. It becomes therefore a 
 matter of no small moment to each individual to 
 apply the most active restraint Avhere it is most 
 demanded ; not indeed to be negligent in respect to 
 any of the passions, but to be specially armed for a 
 conflict with those which are the most formidable. 
 
 Guard against the improper indulgence of anger. 
 The evil of giving way to hasty and violent resent- 
 ments is always great, and sometimes irretrievable. 
 You thereby deprive yourself for the time of the 
 power of regulating your own conduct, while yet 
 you must be responsible for all its consequences; 
 for neither common sense nor conscience, the law of 
 God nor the law of man, excuses a bad action, 
 
SELF-GOVERNMENT, 213 
 
 because it lias been performed in a paroxysm of 
 passion. You may, by a single word, spoken at 
 such a moment, leave a sting in tlie heart of a 
 friend, which no acts of subsequent kindness may 
 be able fully to extract ; — a friend too, it may be, 
 for whom, in an hour of reflection, you would have 
 done or sufiered anything. Or you may needlessly 
 subject yourself to the ridicule and sneers of those 
 who are below you ; of those who are upon the look- 
 out for your foibles, and stand ready to make the 
 most of them. ISTay, you may bring yourself into 
 sad disrepute with all around you, and may greatly 
 cloud your worldly prospects, and prepare for your- 
 self a scene of mortification and disgrace which will 
 last while you live, and then be entailed upon your 
 memory. In short, if you exercise little or no self- 
 control in this respect, you can have no security for 
 your comfort — no security for your character. 
 
 If I were to prescribe one of the best remedies 
 for a hasty spirit, I should say, accustom yourself to 
 be silent under provocation. It is a maxim with 
 some that the best way of encountering insult is to 
 speak out whatever is in the heart, and thus let an 
 angry spirit exhaust itself in a torrent of reproach. 
 Precisely the opposite of this is the course which I 
 
 would recommend. If you begin to talk while you 
 P 
 
2U 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 are in a passion, tlie effect will almost certainly be 
 tliat yonr feelings will become more and more ex- 
 cited ; for while there is a tendency to such a result 
 in the very act of uttering your feelings, you will 
 be in danger of saying things which will bring back 
 upon you still heavier provocation. If, on the con- 
 trary, when you feel the first risings of resentment, 
 you make it a rule to pause and refiect on the evil 
 consequences of such a spirit, and on the guilt as 
 well as the folly of indulging it, you will probably 
 have occasion to pause but a moment before reason 
 will assume her dominion, and you can converse 
 Avith composure and dignity. And it is worthy of 
 remark, that while such recourse will exert the 
 happiest influence upon yourself, it will, more than 
 anything else, disarm others of a spirit of provoca- 
 tion, and thus secure you from insults and injuries. 
 Mark it as often as you will, and you will find that 
 the individual who is most calm and patient in the 
 reception of injuries is the very one who has the 
 fewest injuries to endure. 
 
 In connection with a spirit of anger, I may men- 
 tion a kindred passion — that of revenge ; for expe- 
 rience proves that revenge sometimes deforms and 
 blackens even the female character. Anger is most 
 commonly the exercise of a rash and hasty spirit ; 
 
SELF-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 215 
 
 and it often happens that^ though it may he fol- 
 lowed by the most lasting evils, yet it passes away 
 in an hour or even in a moment. Eevenge is more 
 thoughtful, more deliberate ; its purposes are indeed 
 usually conceived in anger ; but often executed with 
 coolness, and sometimes even in the dark. What- 
 ever injuries you may receive, never allow yourself 
 for a moment to meditate a purpose of retaliation. 
 You are not indeed required tamely to surrender 
 your rights to every one who may choose wantonly 
 to invade them ; for that would be little less than 
 to court injuries ; but you are never, under any cir- 
 cumstances of provocation, to depart from the 
 golden rule ; never to form a design, nor even to 
 harbour a wish, to return evil for evil. IsTothing is 
 more noble than to be able to forgive an injury, 
 instead of inflicting injury again. You remember 
 that most beautiful and touching instance in which 
 the Saviour, in the action of death, commended to 
 the forgiveness of his Father, his enemies and mur- 
 derers. Whoever contemplated this incident in 
 his life, without a deep impression of reverence and 
 moral sublimity ? Who ever doubted that the imi- 
 tation of such an example would not confer true 
 dignity of character ? 
 
 There is envy too— one of the meanest of all the 
 
216 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 passions^ and yet it too often gets a strong lodgment 
 in the breast. You mistake if you imagine that 
 this is confined chiefly to persons in the lower walks 
 of life ; it is^ for ought I know, just as common 
 among the more elevated as the more obscure ; and 
 there is nothing in external circumstances that can 
 prevent its operation. It is alike offensive in the 
 sight of God and of man. If the object towards 
 which it is exercised be wealth, or splendour, or 
 anything connected with the pride and circumstances 
 of life, it is unreasonable, because nothing of all this 
 is essential to human happiness ; and if God in his 
 providence place these temporal possessions beyond 
 our reach, we ought to conclude that it is best that 
 they should be withheld from us. If the object be 
 intellectual strength or cidture, this passion is unrea- 
 sonable still; for it implies either a dissatisfaction 
 with the powers and opportunities which God has 
 given us, or else an unwillingness to use the exertion 
 necessary for making the best of them. And even if 
 the object be moral excellence, the unreasonableness 
 of indulging this feeling is not at all diminished ; 
 for whatever is elevated in moral or Christian char- 
 acter, every individual is commanded to attain ; 
 and to each one God is ready to give the necessary 
 helps for doing so. And it is not only an unreason- 
 
SELF-GOVERNMENT. 217 
 
 able but a malignant spirit. It looks with an eye 
 of hatred upon a brother, for no other reason than 
 because he is, or is sujDposed to be, a special fa- 
 vourite of Providence. If this hateful passion ever 
 rise in your breast, banish it as one of the worst 
 enemies of your happiness, your character, and your 
 soul. Or, I would rather say, cultivate such a habit 
 of feeling as shall be an effectual security against it. 
 Think how many reasons there are why you should 
 delight in the happiness of your fellow-creatures ; 
 and let those considerations operate not only to 
 keep you from being envious, but to make you 
 grateful, when those around you are in any way the 
 special objects of the divine goodness. 
 
 The various appetites which have their seat in 
 the animal nature, ought also to be kept in rigid 
 subjection. These appetites were given us for im- 
 portant purposes ; but who does not know that in 
 a multitude of instances, instead of accomplishing 
 the end for which they were designed, they actually 
 become the ministers of death? Many, even of 
 your own sex, and those too, the circumstances of 
 whose birth and education might have been ex- 
 pected most effectually to shield them from such a 
 calamity, have resigned themselves to a habit of 
 intemperance, and have ultimately sunk to the 
 
218 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 lowest point of degradation. Once they would 
 have been startled with horror by the thought of 
 their present condition; but the almost impercep- 
 tible indulgence with which they began, gradually 
 increased, till they plunged into gross dissipation, 
 and exiled themselves not only from decent society, 
 but from the affections of their own kindred. What 
 young female can contemplate examples like these, 
 and quietly repose in the conviction that she is 
 beyond the reach of danger ? 
 
 I must not omit to speak here of the government 
 of the tongue ; though much of what appropriately 
 belongs to this branch of the subject has been an- 
 ticipated in a preceding chapter. If your thoughts, 
 and passions, and appetites, are kept in due subjec- 
 tion, the proper regulation of the tongue will be a 
 matter of course ; for out of the abundance of 
 the heart the mouth speaketh.” There is the de- 
 ceitful tongue, which deals in misrepresentation and 
 falsehood. There is the loquacious tongue, that 
 monopolizes the conversation of every circle, and 
 tires by its perpetual garrulity. There is the vulgar 
 tongue, that throws out indecent allusions, and finds 
 its element in grovelling subjects. There is the 
 inflamed tongue, that busies itself in the propaga- 
 tion of scandal, and loves to array friends against 
 
SELF-GOVERNMENT. 
 
 219 
 
 each other, and keep neighbourhoods in commotion ; 
 and there is the flattering tongue, which would 
 pour into your ears the sweetest strains of applause, 
 and would make you think that you are too good 
 for this world, and are as lovely and beautiful as an 
 angel. Take heed that your tongue is never prosti- 
 tuted to any of these unworthy purposes. And 
 recollect that v/hile the thoughts, and passions, and 
 appetites, control the movements of the tongue, the 
 tongue in its turn exerts an influence upon them 
 either for good or evil. If you cherish an habitual 
 impression of the presence of God, and in all that 
 you say endeavour to keep yourself subject to the 
 dictates of an enlightened and -wakeful conscience, 
 your tongue will indeed be the glory of your frame, 
 and a source of blessing to yourself and others ; 
 but if not, take heed lest it should prove a world of 
 iniquity, and should be the instrument of bringing 
 upon you a fearfully aggravated condemnation. 
 
 In respect to the importance of self-government, 
 I surely need not enlarge. You cannot fail to per- 
 ceive that it is essential to all true dignity of char- 
 acter, and to' all that enjoyment which is worthy of 
 your rational and immortal nature. Without it, 
 you may imagine yourself free, but you are really 
 in the most degrading vassalage. Without it, you 
 
220 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 may consider yourself respectable^ but all virtuous 
 beings will regard your character with pity and 
 abhorrence. With it^ you will rise up to the true 
 dignity of a rational being, and act in consistency 
 with your immortal hopes. 
 
CHAPTER XYIII. 
 
 HUMILITY. 
 
 It is one of the most distinguishing and lovely fea- 
 tures of Christianity, that it not only inculcates, 
 but actually produces and cherishes the grace of 
 humility. So remote is this from the spirit of 
 paganism, even in its least exceptionable forms, that 
 the language of the nation more enlightened than 
 any other at the time of the advent of Christ, did 
 not supply a word expressive of what we mean by 
 humility. It belongs to the Gospel to have made 
 the discovery that there is a species of self-abase- 
 ment which, while it is befitting our character as 
 sinners, is intimately connected with the highest 
 moral dignity. 
 
 There is, however, much that passes more or less 
 current in the world for humility, which does not 
 deserve the name ; and in respect to this, as of all 
 the other graces of the Christian, it is important 
 that you should be able to detect its counterfeits. 
 There is, for instance, an abject spirit, which is 
 
222 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 grovelling in its nature, and finds its appropriate 
 element amidst a corresponding set of objects ; 
 whereas true humility lifts the soul from the dust, 
 and brings it in contact with some of the most 
 glorious objects in the universe. There is also a 
 desponding spirit, which lives upon doubts and 
 anxieties in respect to personal religious experience, 
 and turns away from the promises as if they were 
 made only for those who could appropriate them 
 with absolute assurance : this cannot be genuine 
 humility; for it is the legitimate offspring of un- 
 belief j and humility is always connected with living 
 faith. There is, moreover, a timid spirit, which 
 attempts little, and therefore accomplishes little, on 
 the ground, perhaps, that there may be danger of 
 overrating one’s own powers j but humility is per- 
 fectly consistent with forming large plans, and en- 
 tering upon the most extensive field of action, 
 provided it be from Christian motives. It is a 
 mistake into which many persons fall, that pride is 
 always the accompaniment of rank, and that humi- 
 lity is found almost of course among the lower 
 classes. There may be more, I acknowledge, in tho 
 one case than the other, to foster a spirit of pride ; 
 though even in this respect, on account of the dif- 
 ferent standards that exist ainono: various classes. 
 
HUMILITY. 
 
 223 
 
 there may be less difference than might be imagined; 
 but the truth undoubtedly is^ that you may be very 
 humble in any station to which Providence can raise 
 you ; or you may be very proud in the obscurest 
 situation to which you can be reduced. 
 
 But there is nothing in which a spirit of false 
 humility discovers itself more decisively than in 
 speaking more unfavourably of one’s self than facts 
 will warrant. Expressions of this kind almost 
 uniformly fail of their object ; for it requires but 
 little discernment to detect the unworthy motive. 
 If you attribute to yourself faults with which you 
 and the world know that you are not chargeable, 
 instead of being taken as a mark of humility, it 
 will be regarded as an indication of a weak mind, 
 and an unworthy attempt to provoke commendation 
 which you do not deserve. 
 
 One of the most common, and to me one of the 
 most painful exliibitions of this spirit, consists in 
 the indiscriminate and often somewhat public con- 
 fessions of professed Christians in respect to their 
 own coldness and neglect of duty, when they mani- 
 fest no disposition to be more active and faithful. 
 All this kind of self-righteous gossipping is often 
 found a most convenient substitute for doing one’s 
 duty; and, if I mistake not, many a lukewarm 
 
22i 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK, 
 
 Cliristiaii has found in these unmeaning confessions 
 an opiate to liis conscience^ in the strength of which 
 he has gone many days. And I am constrained to 
 express my conviction that this same spirit not 
 unfrequently operates in prayer ; and that acknow- 
 ledgments of grievous backsliding are attempted to 
 be poured into the ear of mercy, which are really 
 very little felt, and which are scarcely designed to 
 answer any other purpose (I almost shudder to say 
 it) than to lessen the remorse which attends a habit 
 of sinning. Wherever you see active efforts to for- 
 sake sin and to rise to a higher tone of religious 
 feeling and action, there you may take it for granted 
 is true humility ; but where nothing appears but 
 confessions of delinquency, however deep or often 
 repeated, you may rely on it, the genuine grace is 
 not there. 
 
 True Christian humility is one of the effects of 
 divine grace operating upon the heart. The apostle 
 has beautifully described it in few words, as a dis- 
 position which leads us not to think more highly of 
 ourselves than we ought to think. It discovers 
 itself in heartfelt expressions of abasement before 
 God, and in the modesty of our appearance, conver- 
 sation, and pursuits, before the world. 
 
 The motives for the cultivation of humility are 
 
IIUMILITY. 
 
 225 
 
 SO numerous that I can only glance at a few of them. 
 One of them is to be found in the fact that this 
 grace is an essential and prominent part of Christian 
 character ; and that you have so much and only so 
 much of true religion as you have of true humility. 
 One of the fathers said, “ If I were asked what is 
 the first grace of the Christian, I would say. 
 Humility. If I were asked, what is the second, I 
 would say. Humility. If I were asked, what is 
 the third, I would say. Humility for ever.” No 
 doubt pride in some form or other is the ruling 
 principle of the corrupt heart ; if then you would 
 reach a high point in sanctification, guard against 
 pride in all its forms, and be always clothed with 
 the garments of humility. 
 
 And if this be so important a part of Christian 
 character, I hardly need say that it is essential to 
 the Christian’s comfort. Everything in the uni- 
 verse is part of a system; and when it is in the 
 place appointed for it, it is either at rest or in har- 
 monious motion. This is true of ourselves : but 
 pride disturbs this harmony, and by removing the 
 soul out of its proper sphere, makes it restless and 
 unhappy. The great secret of true happiness in 
 any station is to have a principle introduced, and in 
 exercise, which will restore harmony to the passions, 
 
226 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 and will relieve us from tlie conflicts and tumults 
 they occasion. 
 
 ISTot a small part of the unhappiness that exists 
 in the world results immediately from the operation 
 of pride. Where in the annals of woe will you 
 find characters that have been subjected to deeper 
 sufiering than Pharaoh, and Nebuchadnezzar, and 
 Herod ? But, in each of them, pride was em- 
 phatically the ruling passion, and to it they sacri- 
 ficed everything valuable in time and eternity. 
 And a similar result we have seen in many cases 
 that have fallen under our own observation : 
 persons who have gloried in their fancied superi- 
 ority to those around them — a superiority perhaps 
 which has been conferred by the glitter of wealth, 
 or the breath of applause — have at length been 
 permitted to fall, not only into entire insignifi- 
 cance, but the deepest degradation ; thus verifying 
 the divine declaration that he that exalteth him- 
 self shall be abased.” On the other hand, wher- 
 ever genuine humility appears, whatever the ex- 
 ternal circumstances may be, there you may look 
 with confidence for true happiness. Even under 
 the darkest cloud of adversity, humility diffuses a 
 sweet peace, and sometimes an unutterable joy, 
 through the soul. Who has not seen the liumble 
 
HUMILITY. 227 
 
 Christian breathing out his life in triumph ? Who 
 has not seen the proud worldling dying without 
 consolation, and without hope h 
 
 Let me say too that a spirit of humility will go 
 far towards rendering you acceptable and useful in 
 your intercourse with the world. The conduct in 
 which a proud spirit discovers itself, is almost sure 
 to revolt even the proud themselves, when they 
 witness it in others ; and as for the humble, they 
 cannot fail to regard it as an odious quality, though 
 they may pity those who are the subjects of it. 
 The usefulness of the proud man must be limited, 
 not only because his pride will probably keep him 
 within a narrow sphere, but because the efforts 
 which he actually makes, being prompted by a 
 wrong spirit, will not be likely to draw down upon 
 them the blessing of God. It were worth while to 
 be humble, if it were only for the advantages which 
 humility secures in the present life. 
 
 Lemember that a proud spirit cannot be con- 
 cealed. If it exists in the heart, all the means you 
 can use to conceal it from the world will be in vain. 
 It will discover itself in your conversation and de- 
 portment, and will give a complexion to your whole 
 character. I have known instances iu which the 
 manners of persons have been formed in the morn- 
 
22S THE lady's own book. 
 
 ing of life under tlie influence of a principle of 
 pride ; and tliougli they afterwards gave evidence of 
 true piety, the naughty and overbearing manner 
 which they had early acquired, in spite of all their 
 exertions to the contrary, continued to the close of 
 life. Wherever this spirit is anted out in the man- 
 ners, it is always odious ; but where it appears in 
 the manners of a female, it receives, from the world 
 at least, a double condemnation, 
 
CHAPTEE XIX. 
 
 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. 
 
 The subject upon which I am now to address you, 
 may be considered as including in a general sense 
 much to which I have already directed your atten- 
 tion ; for you will instantly perceive that, as your 
 time is given you to be filled up with the discharge 
 of duty, so the right improvement of it must in- 
 volve a faithful attention to all the duties connected 
 with your various relations. The general subject, 
 however, is of so much importance, that I do not 
 feel willing to pass it over without bringing it 
 distinctly before you. 
 
 There is a fashion wliich prevails too extensively 
 among all classes, of killing time ; and as this is an 
 evil into which many persons fall without being 
 aware of it, it may not be amiss that I should put 
 you on your guard, by mentioning some of the ways 
 in which life is frittered away without the accom- 
 plishment of its object. 
 
 One very effectual means of killing time is by 
 Q 
 
230 
 
 THE lady’s OWjn' BOOK, 
 
 sleep. It is true indeed tliat a certain degree of 
 sleep is necessary alike to the physical and intel- 
 lectual constitution ; it is the kind restorer of the 
 human faculties from a state of exhaustion ; and is 
 an evidence alike of the wisdom and goodness of 
 God. No doubt also an individual may err in 
 taking too little repose; as he may thus not only 
 abridge his period of usefulness^ but his amount of 
 exertion during that period ; for if he bring to his 
 work faculties that have lost their elasticity through 
 the want of sleep, he may indeed keep himself busy, 
 but there is reason to fear that he will be busied 
 in a way that will be little better than killing time. 
 But the error to which I designed here to refer, is 
 that of excessive indulgence in sleep. And the 
 evil of this in respect to the loss of time is twofold : 
 not only the time which is occupied by sleep is lost, 
 but the mind acquires a habit of drowsiness or in- 
 dolence, which greatly abates the vigour of all its 
 operations. That different constitutions may require 
 different degrees of rest there can be no doubt; 
 liow much is necessary in any given case is to be 
 ascertained only by experiment ; and every one 
 ought to make it a matter of conscience to consume 
 as little time in this way as is consistent with th& 
 most healthful and vigorous state of the hiculties. 
 
IMPKOVEMENT OP TIME, 231 
 
 Anotlier means not less effectual of killing time 
 is the indulgence of a wandering imagination. It 
 is an employment to which some minds are exceed- 
 ingly attached, to suffer their thoughts to wander 
 uncontrolled, in any direction they may happen to 
 take. Sometimes they may fall into one channel, 
 and sometimes into another ; but let them assume 
 whatever course they may, no effort is made to 
 direct or restrain them. To say nothing of the fact 
 that where such a habit exists there must be many 
 trains of thought which could not be uttered with, 
 out an offence to the purity and even the decorum 
 of virtue, there can be no doubt that nearly all 
 these operations of the mind partake deeply of 
 vanity, and are unworthy of an accountable and 
 immortal being. At the same time, useless and 
 sinful as this employment is in itself, it occupies the 
 fleeting moments of man’s probation — moments that 
 were given him to prepare for eternity. 
 
 I may instance vain conversation as another 
 means of frittering away time. The social j)i*iE.- 
 ciple, which was implanted for the most important 
 purposes, is too often brought into operation for 
 purposes which God, and reason, and conscience, 
 unitedly condemn. But to say nothing of the more 
 flagrant vices of the tongue, who does not know 
 
232 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 Ilow strong is the tendency, I may say, in most 
 persons, to indulge in idle and frivolous discourse ? 
 Such a habit is exceedingly fitted to dissipate the 
 mind; but the least you can say of it is, that it is 
 attended by a criminal waste of time. It is robbing 
 one’s own understanding and heart; it is robbing God. 
 
 And the same evil is accomplished by light and 
 foolish reading. I have elsewhere dwelt so much 
 upon this, that I allude to it here only as it stands 
 connected with the loss of time. And there are no 
 persons probably who are more liable to fall into this 
 error than young females. Many of them will even 
 consent to deprive themselves of sleep for the sake 
 of going through with some ridiculous love story, 
 or following out the fortunes of some imaginary 
 hero, as they are depicted in a novel. If you should 
 ever find yourself engaged in this miserable employ- 
 ment, just pause, at least long enough to inquire of 
 your conscience whether that be the purpose for 
 which you/precious time was given you. 
 
 But if you would do your whole duty on this 
 subject, you must not only avoid the evil of which 
 I have been speaking, but you must actually use 
 your time to the best advantage. Here, again, suffer 
 me to give you two or three directions. 
 
 Be careful that your time is employed upon ob- 
 
IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. 233 
 
 jects of real utility. It is possible that an indivi- 
 dual may be very active, and, in a certain way, may 
 bring much to pass, and yet after all may have no 
 good account to render of his time, inasmuch as it 
 has been bestowed upon objects of little or no mo- 
 ment. It is not enough that the object to which 
 your efforts are directed should not directly interfere 
 with the interests of any of your fellow-creatures, 
 or that it should exert no positively bad influence 
 upon yourself : it should be something from which 
 you or they may reap some positive advantage. In 
 selecting a sphere in which to occupy your time, 
 you ought indeed to have respect to your peculiar 
 talents ; but you should be certain that it is a 
 sphere of real usefulness. 
 
 If you would use your time to the best ad- 
 vantage, I hardly need say that you must form a 
 habit of persevering diligence. This is essential, 
 not only because you thus crowd into a given 
 period the greatest amount of useful exertion, but 
 because the faculties are thereby improved, and 
 rendered capable of more vigorous and successful 
 exercise. Make it a rule, therefore, never to allow 
 yourself to be idle, when your health and circum- 
 stances will permit you to be active. If you once 
 form an industrious habit, you will never after- 
 
234 
 
 THE lady’s own book. 
 
 wards be able to content yourself in a state of 
 inactivity ; and on the otlier hand, if you begin 
 life with a habit of indolence, you will probably 
 never after acquire a relish for vigorous exertion. 
 In whatever circumstances Providence may place 
 you, take care that the whole of yoiir time be 
 employed : and consider the first inroads of in- 
 dolence as a melancholy harbinger of the wreck 
 of your usefulness, and the loss of your reputation. 
 
 There is one caution, however, which I would 
 suggest in connection with this point — it is that 
 you should never suffer yourself to be in a huny. 
 Let the demands upon your time be ever so nu- 
 merous, endeavour to keep your mind perfectly 
 composed, and address yourself to your various 
 avocations as calmly as if you were insensible of 
 their pressure. The moment you become agitated 
 by care, you well nigh lose the power of doing any- 
 thing to purpose. Your thoughts, under such an 
 influence, will fly off to the winds, and a distracted 
 state of feeling will ensue, which will effectually 
 palsy every effort. Be as diligent as your health 
 will admit, but never suffer your exertions to be 
 embarrassed by the apprehension that you have 
 more on your hands than you shall be able to 
 accomplish. 
 
IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. 
 
 235 
 
 And tills leads me to say that very much will 
 depend on your having your duties, so far as pos- 
 sible, reduced to system. There is a way which 
 many good people have of taking things at random ; 
 seeming to be satisfied, if they are only in a field of 
 usefulness, whether they are labouring to the best 
 advantage or not. Instead of taking a deliberate 
 survey of the field into which they are cast, and 
 the various duties which devolve upon them, and 
 assigning to each set of duties an appropriate time, 
 they take everything as it happens to rise ; and as 
 a matter of course, not unfrequently find them- 
 selves overwhelmed by such an accumulation of 
 cares, that they are in precisely the state of which 
 I have just spoken — they know not to which duty 
 to give the precedence. If you take care to cul- 
 tivate order in the discharge of your duties, you 
 Vvfill not only accomplish more, and accomplish it 
 with greater ease, but there will grow out of it a 
 beautiful consistency of character, which will of 
 itself be an important means of usefulness. 
 
 If you need motives to urge you to the faithful 
 improvement of your time, let me remind you of 
 your responsibility to God. Your time is one of 
 the talents which He has intrusted to you, and for 
 which He will ere long call you to an account. 
 
236 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 Each moment is part of the precious deposite ; and 
 it bears its rej)ort for or against you to the bar of 
 your final Judge. Eemember that He requires that 
 your whole time should be spent in His service, 
 and to His glory. If you would meet Him to render 
 an account of your stewardship with confidence 
 and joy, see to it that you practically recognize His 
 claim, and live under an abiding sense of your 
 obligation. 
 
 Kecollect too that the improvement of your time 
 is immediately connected with the improvement of 
 all your other talents. If your time be wasted, so 
 also is the vigour of your intellect ; your powers of 
 speech are perverted ; your moral and religious 
 privileges abused ; and your whole infiuence turned 
 into an improper channel. If you waste your 
 whole time, you of course th^ow yourself into a 
 current that will bear you rapidly to perdition ; 
 just in proportion as you waste your time, you 
 accumulate materials for a fearful reckoning, and 
 if you are a professed Christian, you render it 
 probable that your hope will be as the giving up 
 of the ghost. 
 
 Remember, further, that the time is short. 
 Should your life be protracted to the period of 
 old age, you will say, at its close, that it was 
 
IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. 
 
 237 
 
 only a watch of the nighty as a dream when 
 one awaketh.” But of this you can have no as- 
 surance j and the only conclusion which analogy 
 warrants is, that you will probably not reach an 
 advanced period. And need I say that even now 
 some of your last moments may be on the wing 1 
 Has the improvement of your past life been such 
 that you can review it with peace and approbation ] 
 
CHAPTER XX. 
 
 PEEPAKATION FOR DEATH. 
 
 There is scarcely any tiling in liiiman experience 
 wliicli at first view strikes tlie mind as so difficult 
 to be accounted for, as tire utter insensibility wliicb 
 tlie mass of mankind manifest on tire subject of 
 deatli. That death is an event of most solemn and 
 momentous import, wlietlier it be regarded in its 
 physical or its moral bearings, no rational mind can 
 question. Nature herself renders a testimony to 
 this truth in that shrinking and shuddering which 
 the spirit feels, when it is actually entering into 
 communion with this king of terrors. But who, 
 with an eye upon the world, can fail to perceive 
 that this event is but little thought of ; and though 
 the grave itself is continually speaking forth its 
 rebuke to human thoughtlessness and infatuation, 
 and though friendship, strong and tender in death, 
 often pours out its earnest expostulations to the 
 living to prepare to die, yet the mass of the world 
 slumber on till they ai-e startled by the footsteps of 
 
PREPARATIOJS' FOR DEATH. 
 
 239 
 
 that messenger whose mandate they cannot 'resist. 
 This surely is not wisdom. It shows the desperate 
 madness of the human heart. It sIioy/s that man 
 is guilty, that he is afraid to hold communion with 
 the future, to enter into the secret chambers of his 
 own soul, and ponder the prospect of a retribution. 
 
 But if the great majority of mankind manifest 
 an absolute aversion to the contemplation of death, 
 it must be acknowledged that even those wlio 
 profess to be the disciples of Christ, and to regard 
 death as gain, do not live as might be expected in 
 view of it. They think of it too little, converse 
 about it too little, prepare for it too little. Here, 
 again, the secret of this is, that they love this 
 world too well, and even though they are partially 
 sanctified, they have too little sympathy with the 
 objects, and interests, and glories of the world 
 which the eye of faith sees beyond it. 
 
 There is a preparation for death which devolves 
 upon the unforgiven sinner, of mighty import. 
 There is charged against him in the book of God’s 
 remembrance an awful catalogue of crimes, which 
 he can do nothing in the way of merit to expiate. 
 His heart is the seat of corrupt propensities and 
 affections, which render him utterly incapable of 
 the joys of holiness. If he die 'with this character, 
 
240 
 
 THE lady’s own BOOK. 
 
 notliing awaits him but that indignation and wrath 
 which the Bible has denounced upon the ungodly. 
 His preparation for death therefore must consist 
 in having his offences cancelled — in other words, 
 in a compliance with the requisitions of the Gospel, 
 by repentance toward God, and faith in the Lord 
 Jesus Christ. These requisitions once obeyed, he 
 is in the most important sense prepared to die. 
 It is not indeed certain that%e will die triumph- 
 antly or even die peacefully ; for he is yet but a 
 babe in Christ ; but it is as certain as the testimony 
 of the Highest can make it, that he will die to 
 live and reign with the Bedeemer on his throne for 
 ever. 
 
 There is also a preparation for death, though of 
 a somewhat modified character, that devolves upon 
 the Christian. For notwithstanding the soul which 
 has once experienced the transforming power of the 
 Holy Spirit is sealed to the day of redemption, 
 yet it has still much of remaining corruption to 
 struggle with, and is far from being adorned with 
 the beauty of perfect holiness. With the Christian, 
 then, preparation for death consists not merely in 
 possessing a principle of grace, but in keeping it in 
 lively exercise ; not merely in being able to recur 
 to seasons in which the love of Christ was shed 
 
PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 
 
 241 
 
 abroad in bis hearty but to feel tlie precious in- 
 fluence of this love, daily and babitually. It is 
 true, as I have said, that every believer dies a safe 
 death ; but it is not true that every one dies in the 
 exercise of a triumphant and elevated faith ; and 
 some, no doubt, as a chastisement for their neglect 
 of duty, are left to die under a cloud ; and perhaps 
 are in actual horror, till they emerge from the 
 gloom which their own guilt has spread over them, 
 into the bright light of an everlasting day. Every 
 believer ought, every believer may, avoid the evil 
 of dying in darkness. Let him keep his lamp 
 trimmed and burning, and his passage through the 
 valley of death will brighten into a scene of hea- 
 venly illumination. 
 
 You cannot fail to perceive that it is a matter of 
 infinite moment that you are prepared to die — pre- 
 pared in such a sense that the thought of death 
 shall never be unwelcome, and the approach of it, 
 however unexpected, instead of filling you with 
 alarm, shall be hailed as the harbinger of heavenly 
 glory. I am sure that you aim at something higher 
 than even to die safely : you desire that your death 
 may speak forth the all-sustaining power of the 
 Gospel ; that in dying you may bring some honour 
 to Him whose death is the price of all your hopes 
 
242 THE Lx^DY’S own book. 
 
 • 
 
 and joys, of your entire redemption. Let me 
 then give you two or three brief directions to aid 
 you in making this most desirable attainment. 
 
 Meditate frequently and solemnly upon death. 
 If it come up before the mind only occasionally, 
 and at distant intervals, the certain consequence 
 will be, that it will be regarded with chilling appre- 
 hension ; and your thoughts will be likely to fly 
 from it, even though reason and conscience strive 
 to detain them. Let no day, especially let no 
 evening pass, which does not witness to your 
 visiting in thought the grave. Endeavour to be- 
 come familiar with this subject in its various parts 
 and bearings. Meditate on the certainty of a 
 change; on the nearness of its approach; on the 
 circumstances which will probably attend it; the 
 parting with friends, the dropping of the earthly 
 tabernacle, the pains, the groans, the dying strife^ 
 which may be crowded into the last hour ; on the 
 amazing scenes which must open upon the spirit 
 the moment death has done its work, and on the 
 riches of that grace which secures to the believer a 
 complete victory in his conflict, and a triumphant 
 entrance into heaven. Let this course of medita- 
 tion be conducted in the most practical manner 
 possible ; let it all come home to your own bosom 
 
PREPARATION FOR DEATH. 
 
 243 
 
 as a matter of personal concern ; and the effect of 
 it will be to make the world appear in its true 
 light, and to transfer from time to time some new 
 affections from earth to heaven. 
 
 Beware of the world. Beware of its seductive 
 flatteries, its pestilential maxims, its unhallowed 
 practices. Bemember that the spirit of the world 
 is directly opposed to the spirit of the Gospel ; and 
 that both cannot find a permanent lodgment in the 
 same bosom. If the world attempt to seduce you by 
 its smiles, dally not with the tempter for a moment. 
 If it attempt by its frowns to wither your good 
 purposes and bring you into subjection, in the 
 strength of Almighty grace march forward to the 
 conflict, and the world will retire and leave you the 
 victory. Have as little to do with the grovelling 
 and polluted scenes of earth as you can, in con- 
 sistency with your duty. Bise above the world, 
 and try to breathe the atmosphere of heaven. 
 Thus you will use it as not abusing it ; and all you 
 have to do with it, instead, of retarding, will 
 actually advance your preparation for the grave. 
 
 DUNN AND WRIGHT, PRINTERS, GLASGOW.