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 Latest Date stamped below. 
 
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 L161— O-1096
 
 EMILY) 
 
 A MORAL TALE, 
 
 INCLUDING 
 
 LETTERS 
 
 FROM 
 
 A FATHER TO HIS DAUGHTER, 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 MOST IMPORTANT SUBJECTS. 
 By the Rev. HENRY RETT, 
 
 FELLOW OF TRINITY COLLEGE, OXFORD, 
 
 AND AUTHOR OF THE ELEMENTS OF GENERAL 
 
 KNOWLEDGE, &C. 
 
 IN TWO VOLUMES* 
 VOL. I. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR MESSRS. RIVIXGTOXS, 
 no. 62, st. paut/s church-yard; 
 
 PAYNE, PALL-MALL; LUNJJ, SOHO SQUARE 
 EGERTON, CHARING-CROSS ; AND 
 HATCHARD, PICCADILLY. 
 
 1809.
 
 Printed by Law and Gilbert, St. John's Square, CleTkenweli.
 
 o K-j 
 
 iL, 
 
 I 
 
 TO 
 
 THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESSES THE PRINCESSES 
 
 AUGUSTA, 
 ELIZABETH, 
 
 MARY, 
 
 ■ 
 
 SOPHIA, 
 
 AND 
 
 X* AMELIA, 
 
 i 
 
 THE FOLLOWING WORK, 
 
 INTENDED TO RECOMMEND 
 
 THE CULTIVATION OF THOSE VIRTUES, 
 
 AND THE 
 
 ACQUIREMENT OF THOSE BRANCHES 
 
 OF USEFUL KNOWLEDGE, 
 
 WHICH THEY GRACE 
 
 BY 
 
 THE ELEGANCE OF THEIR MINDS, 
 
 AND DIGNIFY 
 
 BY THEIR EXALTED RANK, 
 
 IS, WITH THEIR PERMISSION, 
 
 HUMBLY DEDICATED 
 
 BY THEIR ROYAL HIGHNESSES, 
 
 MOST RESPECTFUL AND DEVOTED SERVANT, 
 
 HENRY KETT.
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE very favourable reception which 
 " The Elements of General Knowledge" 
 have met with, has encouraged the Author to intro- 
 duce another Work to public notice, defigned more 
 particularly for the fervice of the Ladies. 
 
 In the courfe of the following narrative he has en- 
 deavoured to inftruft his Readers by the importance, 
 and to amufe them by the variety of his fubje&s ; with 
 this view he has united Converfations and Letters 
 with Sketches of original Characters, curious Ad- 
 ventures, and Descriptions of interefting Places. 
 
 To point fevere and indifcriminate cenfures againft 
 the times in which we live, is perhaps rather the 
 
 part
 
 VI ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 part of an ill-natured fatyrift than of a candid ob- 
 ferver of mankind ; for every age, like every indi- 
 vidual, is marked by chara6teriftic virtues and de- 
 fects. But we cannot, it is prefumed, take a view 
 of the prefent Hate of fociety, without obferving 
 that too many young perfons of both fexes are dif- 
 pofed to look upon the reitraints of parental autho- 
 rity as an intolerable check to the freedom of their 
 actions ; to relt their claims to diftinftion and praife 
 too much upon trifling accomplishments ; and to 
 think that conftant appearance in public, and a con- 
 tinual round of amufements are effential to their well- 
 being. 
 
 If fuch be, in any refpecl, a true description of 
 the fentiments and the manners of the young, that 
 writer cannot be fairly cenfured as aiming at an un- 
 worthy, or a trivial object, — as mifemploying his 
 time, or degrading his talents, who endeavours to 
 correcl fuch difpofitions by difplaying the advantages, 
 and defcribing the pleafures that remit from the pel- 
 levering cultivation of filial love, from the acquire- 
 9 ment
 
 ADVERTISEMENT. Til 
 
 ment of elegant and ufeful knowledge, and from the 
 exercife of fuch virtues as are calculated to fhed 
 luftre upon the walks of domeftic and private life. 
 
 The Author of this Work, during many years, 
 has been attempting to find the road that leads to 
 Happiness, and he leaves the candid and the ju- 
 dicious to determine how far the methods he recom- 
 mends are likely to aflift his young Readers in 
 making this mod important, and molt defirable of 
 all difcoveries.
 
 EMILY. 
 
 ■< w » 
 
 CHAP. I. 
 
 — — • — How could my tongue 
 
 Take pleafure to be lavifh in thy praife! 
 How could I fpeak thy noblenefs of nature, 
 Thy open, manly heart, thy courage, conftancy, * 
 And inborn truth unknowing to diflemble ! 
 
 Rowe, 
 
 Colonel Lorton was defcerided from 
 one of the moft antient and refpectable fami- 
 lies in the north of England. He had en- 
 joyed the advantages of a liberal education, 
 and paffed fome time at the Univerfity ; but 
 as he was of an active and enterprizing tem- 
 per, his father purchafed a commimon for 
 him in the army, and he ferved for fome 
 time, both at home and abroad. Naturally 
 of a quick and inquifitive difpofition, he im- 
 proved every opportunity of feeing the world ; 
 vol. i. b and
 
 LM1LY. 
 
 and as he belonged to a regiment, In which 
 the officers were intelligent and well-edu- 
 cated, he mado it his ftudy to keep pace 
 with them upon all fubjecte of ufeful informa- 
 tion. He was itationed, for fome time, with 
 his regiment at Gibraltar, during the me- 
 morable and long liege by the Spaniards, 
 when that impregnable garrifor* was com- 
 manded by Governor Elliot, afterwards raifed 
 to a peerage by the title of Lord Heath- 
 iield. In the fortie made by the BritifU 
 troops upon the Spanilh camp, Colonel Lor- 
 ton received a wound, not fo fevere as ano- 
 ther in his face, given him at Naples, where 
 he laved the life of a ftranger from the 
 affault of affalfms. 
 
 This fecond wound compelled him to quit 
 his. profeffion, and try the beneficial effect of 
 his -native climate. Still in the prime of life, 
 lie retired to his paternal eftate in Cumber- 
 land, and lhortly after married a lady of a 
 good family, who had from his earlieft youth 
 been the object of his ardent affection. She 
 had very- precarious health, and after mak- 
 
 ing
 
 EMILY. 3 
 
 ing him happy by the birth of a daughter, 
 whose name was Emily, fell a prey to a lin- 
 gering illness. 
 
 The place of Colonel Lorton's refidence was 
 at a ihort diftance from Kefwick in Cumber- 
 land. This county is well known to abound in 
 the romantic beauties of lofty mountains^ pic- 
 turefque rocks, gleaming lakes, rapid rivers, 
 and fertile vallies. It prefents various 
 changes of landfcape, as often as the tra- 
 veller purfues the common roads, or ftrikes 
 into the devious tracks ; and there are few 
 parts of Europe which difplay fo many fub^ 
 lime and beautiful fcenes, within the fame 
 extent of ground. 
 
 The views indeed prefented amid the Lakes 
 in the north of England are wild as nature 
 can produce, and various as imagination can 
 form. The endlefs combinations of wood 
 and water, mountain, and valley, if beheld 
 at the proper feafon of the year, when the 
 fun diffufes the ftrength and beauty of his 
 magic influence ; the gleams of light fpread 
 over the bold rocks, or illuminating the ex- 
 
 b 2
 
 4 EMILY. 
 
 paniive lakes, the mountains half concealed 
 in the clouds, or thrown into dark fhadow, 
 during the folitude and ftillnefs that reign 
 around at noon-day as deep as at midnight — 
 thefe objects give the eyes fuch entertain- 
 ment, and awaken in the mind fuch de- 
 lightful enthufiafm, as thofe who live on 
 plains, or are confined to cities, are not in a 
 lituation to experience, and cannot fully 
 conceive. 
 
 Lorton houfe, an old but convenient man- 
 lion, was beautifully fituated : in its front was 
 an extenfive and verdant lawn, interfperfed 
 with clumps of flowering Hi rubs, and where 
 mountain allies, planes, birch, fir, and other 
 trees difpofed with great tafte, flour iftied in a 
 toil well known to be highly favourable to 
 their rapid and luxuriant growth. 
 
 The houfe was fheltered from the north 
 by a hill covered with a Hoping wood, at the 
 bottom of the lawn flowed a meandering 
 river, for fome diftance foaming and rapid, 
 in other parts gliding in a clear and tranquil 
 ftream. On the oppoiite hill ftood the vil- 
 lage
 
 EMILY. 5 
 
 lage church, and not far diftant the parfonage 
 houfe, partly concealed by tall fycamores ; 
 around this eminence were numerous fmall 
 inclofures, chiefly of pafture divided by wav- 
 ing lines of hedge rows ; a few cottages 
 checkered the profpecl;, which was termi- 
 nated by a bending chain of mountains, and 
 among them, far pre-eminent rofe the ma- 
 jeftic Skiddaw. 
 
 The diftance at which many of thele 
 mountains were placed, made them feem 
 fmaller than they really were ; in fummer they 
 appeared of an aerial azure colour; in that fea- 
 fon of the year the profpe6t from Lorton houfe 
 was picturefque in the higheft degree, particu- 
 larly when the fun brightened the landfcape 
 with a foft and golden light, and its rays 
 ftreamed between the openings of the moun- 
 tains upon the verdant and flowery vale.
 
 CHAP. II. 
 
 As the vernal flov/r 
 
 Cut by the plough-mare hangs its head, and dies, 
 Amelia finks in fading beauty's prime, 
 And virtue's blofibm ; whom th' Almighty loves, 
 He calls with early mandate to himfclf. A. 
 
 Mrs. Lortok was a lady of a good fa- 
 mily ; me had been well educated, and her 
 mind took a religious turn ; but her piety 
 was neither auftere, gloomy, nor enthufiaftic : 
 it was of an unaffected and moft amiable 
 caft, and was far from fouring her temper, 
 or deprefimg her fpirits, although it occa- 
 fionally checked a little of her natural viva- 
 city. The genuine precepts of the gofpel 
 accorded with the feelings of her tender and 
 benevolent heart ; her religion was vital and 
 practical ; its fphere of action was her own 
 houfe, and her own village, or wherever the 
 
 helplefs
 
 EMILY. i 
 
 helplefs infant, the decrepid labourer, the tle- 
 ierted orphan, or the forlorn widow required 
 her ready affiftance. 
 
 Her soodnefs was active without oftenta- 
 tion, and unnoticed by the voice of fame, 
 was perceived only in its falutary effects. 
 Thus does the ftream of the valley purfue its 
 iilent courfe, and imparts it limpkl and re- 
 freshing waters to the thirfty ihepherds and 
 their flocks. 
 
 At the village church, where Mrs. Lofton 
 was a conftant attendant, as long as her 
 health permitted her to appear there, jier un- 
 affected and fervent devotion gave a pejfua- 
 five example to her own houfehold, and to 
 the whole pariih. This publick exercife of 
 piety on a Sunday was a certain prelude- to 
 the discharge of her more active duties on 
 the other days of the week, and her general 
 conduct was a full difplay of chriftian exceL 
 lence. Her example was not difregarded by 
 any one, and leaft of all was its effect loft on 
 Colonel Lorton, who well knowing the fin- 
 cerity of her difpofition, and the ftrength of 
 
 )ier
 
 EMILY. 
 
 her underftanding, which always gave a right 
 direction to her conduct, loved her the 
 more for her ferious turn of mind, and was 
 the more ftrongly inclined to tread the path 
 of religion, from having a perfon lb ineftima- 
 bly dear to him his zealous affociate in the 
 performance of its commands. 
 
 But their happinefs increafed by fuch pure 
 and exalted caufes was too great to be laft> 
 ing. The health of Mrs, Lorton, as has 
 been before oblerved, began to fail ; a neg- 
 lected cold brought on a continued fever, 
 which terminated in a rapid decline, The 
 aid of phyficians and change of air to a 
 milder part of the kingdom were tried in 
 vain : the waters of Briftol Wells raifed her 
 hopes of recovery, but afforded no effectual 
 relief. On her return to Lorton houfe, the 
 ibrrowful looks of her family too plainly 
 betrayed their opinion, that the patient fuf- 
 ferer was far worfe than when ihe left them, 
 and her own increafed weaknefs convinced 
 her, that ihe had revifited her beloved home, 
 only to bid a laft farewell to its formerly de- 
 lightful
 
 EM IVY. 9 
 
 lightful fcenes. The time was nmv arrived, 
 when fhe wifhed more than ever to fpeak her 
 mind at large upon a fubject moft dear to 
 her heart, and Hie thought herfelf happy al- 
 moft beyond expreffion, that a fufpenfion of 
 pain gave her power to converfe in the fol- 
 lowing manner : 
 
 <l The indiipofition," laid Mrs. Lorton to 
 the Colonel, " that has fo long affiicred me, 
 gains ftrength every hour ; alas, I fear, my 
 itay in this world will be very fhort." 
 
 " Take comfort," faid the Colonel, ten- 
 derly embracing her, 
 
 " For your fake I wifh to live," conti- 
 nued Mrs. Lorton, with greater emotion, and 
 increafed difficulty of utterance : " and for 
 the fake of that dear child now playing in 
 the room, unconfcious of her mother's feeble 
 ftate ; but not on my own account, for in 
 fuch an illnefs as mine, extended life will 
 only be extended mifery; my feelings too 
 plainly tell me what will foon happen — the 
 Father of mercies will fliortly take me to 
 
 himfelf.
 
 10 EXILY. 
 
 hitnfelf. I pray that you may have the con- 
 folations of his grace, to enable you to bear 
 our reparation !" 
 
 Here ihe paufed, being cxhaufted by the 
 great exertion flie had made to fpeak ; and 
 after a fhort interval of iilence, interrupted 
 by the fighs of the Colonel, and his lifter, 
 Mrs. Lorton riling fuperior to her own fufFer- 
 in^s, and living as me had always done for 
 the good of others, thus in a more feeble 
 tone proceeded :— 
 
 " To clofe my eyes on the light of the fun, 
 to behold no more the fweet profpe&s that 
 formerly gave me fuch delight ; to be fepa- 
 rated from my hufband, my child, and my 
 fifter, is affliction inexpreffiblc ; but although 
 it is the will of the Almighty that I mult 
 fhortly leave you, I am perfuaded we fhall 
 meet again in heaven, to part no more. To 
 your efpecial care I commend Emily, the 
 darling, the fole pledge of our love. It is 
 my ardent, my anxious wiih, that you and 
 her aunt fhould undertake the charge of her 
 
 education.
 
 EMILY. 11 
 
 education. Let it be your delight, as it 
 would have been mine, to exercife a con- 
 ttant care over her ; to check every difpon- 
 tion to anger, vanity, pride, and ill-nature ; 
 teach her to love truth, and to hate falthood 
 and deceit ; educate her not merely as a be- 
 ing born to exift for a few Ihort years in this 
 vain world, but as one whofe greater! and 
 beft intereit, even that of her precious and 
 immortal foul is placed beyond the grave." 
 
 She ceafed, unable to fay more ; for her 
 ihort interval of eafe was like the lively but 
 fleeting gleam of an expiring taper. The 
 flufh of fever glowing upon her face as fhe 
 was fpeaking, gradually faded away, fhe 
 turned pale, and clofed her languid eyes ; and 
 while the Colonel and his fifter hung over 
 her in filent anguiih, fhe funk down feeble 
 and opprefled by the deep of death. 
 
 The Colonel ftood liftening as if he ftill 
 heard that voice, which had for fo many- 
 years been the voice of his comfort, peace, 
 and joy. Tears of agony ftarted from his 
 
 eyes,
 
 12 EMILY. 
 
 eyes, as he retired from the chamber, leading 
 out his child and fifter ; his grief was filent 
 and deep, he treafured every word of his de- 
 parted wife in his memory, and how far he 
 complied with the tenour of her laft requeit, 
 the following narrative will prove.
 
 CHAP. III. 
 
 Delightful talk to rear the tender thought, 
 To teach the young idea how to moot, 
 To pour the frefli inltru&ion o'er the mind, 
 To breathe th' enlivening fpirit, and to fix 
 The generous purpofe in the glowing bread. 
 
 Thomson's Spring. 
 
 I he paternal eftate of Colonel Lorton con- 
 futed of a confiderable portion of land, chiefly 
 extending along the borders of Kefwick 
 Lake. The beauties of the country, as 
 well as his fondnefs for agricultural purfuits, 
 were no fmall inducements to him to fettle 
 there. He had found the dwelling; houfe and 
 other buildings in fo ruinous a condition, 
 when he nrlt fucceeded to the property, and 
 the land required fo much expenfe for drain- 
 ing, and bringing it into proper cultivation, 
 that he was obliged to borrow a confiderable 
 
 fum
 
 14 tintr. 
 
 fum of money from Mrs. Wilfon, a diftant re- 
 lation to Mrs. Lorton. He had lived fo 
 much in the buflle of the world, that retire- 
 ment furnifhed him with the moft gratifying 
 fourccs of enjoyment ; with his fequeftcred 
 refidence he arlbciated the painfully pleafing 
 remembrance of his departed wife, and here 
 he thought he could beft attend to a con- 
 cern, now the only one dear to his heart — 
 the education of Emily his only child, his 
 beloved daughter. 
 
 To this object he devoted a large portion 
 of his time, and the belt efforts of his dili- 
 gence and care. Whatever his own obfer- 
 vations and experience did not afford, he was 
 relblved to fupply by all the aids that able 
 inftr actors, friends, and books could give. 
 lie had never wholly laid afide his clamcal 
 ftudies, and he was a proficient in the beft 
 modern languages, and thus he was qualified 
 to examine every author likely to aflift him 
 for the execution of his pleafing but arduous 
 talk. 
 
 He
 
 EMILY. 15 
 
 lie thought that Roufieau's plan of edu- 
 cation, founded as it is upon no good prin- 
 ciple, can be conducive to no good end. It 
 mows great ignorance of human nature, be- 
 caufe it is evident if a child is left to the un- 
 rcftrained exercife of its own caprice and 
 paflions, it is likely to be more wild and mif- 
 chievous than any other young animal. Co- 
 lonel Lorton rejecting without hesitation all 
 fuch fanciful fchemes of education, confidered 
 moral difciplinc as effentially conducive to 
 the right conduct of the human mind, and he 
 was firmly pcrfuaded that this moral difci- 
 pline ought to be enforced by all the power- 
 ful and falutary aids which Christianity can 
 fupplv ; he therefore began at a very early 
 period of her life to inftil into the tender 
 mind of his daughter the important truths of 
 revelation. 
 
 Equally in compliance with Mrs. Lorton's 
 laft requeit, and from his own conviction of 
 its reafonablenefs, he was determined to 
 make the education of his daughter dGmefiic, 
 for as girls are defigncd by nature for retired 
 
 life, 
 8
 
 lG EMILY, 
 
 life, and boys for public fituations in the 
 world, he thought their early habits and in- 
 {mictions ought to be adapted to their re- 
 ipeclive destinations. 
 
 He derived confiderable afiiftance in the 
 execution of his plans from his fifter Mrs-. 
 Mapleton, who had refided with him for 
 fome time before the death of Mrs. Lorton. 
 Mrs. Mapleton' s temper was gentle, and her 
 understanding excellent; fhe loved Emily, 
 and was beloved by her; ilie viewed with 
 delight the expanding powers of her nieceV 
 mind, and was eager to contribute all ihe 
 could towards her improvements. 
 
 The time fet apart for Emily's inftrucYion 
 was divided into equal portions, during 
 which Hie alternately attended her aunt and 
 her father. The former taught her to read, 
 write, ufe her needle, and play on the forte 
 piano ; the latter gave her leffons in gram- 
 mar, arithmetic, French, geography, and 
 drawing;. The whole bufmefs was conducted 
 with fpirit and cheenulnefs ; the leiTbns were 
 rather frequent than long, fo as not to be 
 
 fatiguing
 
 EMILY. 17 
 
 fatiguing to the Scholar, nor interfering with 
 the other occupations of the teachers. 
 
 The mind of Emily Mas iharpened by this 
 quick alternation of ftudy and repofe ; and as 
 no fe verity was neceflary, ftie did not learn to 
 connect the idea of books with hardfhip, but 
 ran to them with as much pleafure, as to 
 her other fources of amufement and paitimc. 
 Although never harfhly reftrained, flic was 
 kept in a conftant ftate of control and de- 
 pendence upon the will of her father and 
 aunt ; whatever indulgence me was al- 
 lowed was the reward of her good behavi- 
 our only, not a conceffion to her tears, en ■ 
 treaties, or blandilhments : no fault was 
 fuffcred to pafs unnoticed, and flic was fel- 
 dom praifed in her own hearing. A gentle 
 and a fteady curb was kept upon her tem- 
 per and difpofition ; and ihc felt the happy 
 effects of this mild and prudent difcipline, 
 throughout the whole courfe of her life. 
 
 vol. i. c CHAP.
 
 CHAP. IV. 
 
 For feveral virtues 
 
 Have I lik'd feveral women, never any, 
 With fo full foul, but fome defect in her, 
 Did quarrel with the nobleft grace fhe ow'd, 
 
 And put it to the foil. But 3^011, O you, 
 
 So perfect and fo peerlefs are created, 
 Of every creature's bell ! 
 
 The Tempest. 
 
 Colonel Lorton procured for his daughter 
 a companion of her own age, whole name 
 was Fanny Flowerdale, the youngeft child of 
 a virtuous family in the. next [Village. Fanny 
 was a girl of a fweet and gentle temper, and 
 Emily foon liked her fo well, that iar from 
 treating her with unkindnels or caprice, and 
 obliging her to aft the part of a timid and 
 
 artful
 
 KMILY. 1<? 
 
 artful attendant, ilie coniiclered her as in- 
 tfuftcd to her protection, and behaved to 
 her rather as a relative, than a miitrefs. She 
 endeavoured to teach Fanny every one of her 
 own lellbns, fo that as foon as ihe had been 
 inltructed by her aunt to fpell a hard word, or 
 repeat one of Watts's hymns, or had finifhed 
 a talk of writing or arithmetic, fhe was always 
 anxious for Fanny to attempt to do the fame. 
 She had great pleafure in acting the part of 
 the govcrnefs, and Fanny thought it an ho- 
 nour to be her icholar. Mrs. Mapleton en- 
 couraged this practice of her niece, as me 
 law it was greatly conducive to her improve- 
 ment, and Ihortened her own labour of in- 
 ftruc~tion ; being well convinced of what may 
 appear to be a paradox, that it is an excellent 
 method of underfianding any thing perfectly \ 
 after you have gained a proper knoxvledge of its 
 principles, to become a teacher of it yourfelf. 
 
 Fanny Flowerdale, fo far from abufmtr the 
 indulgence fhowed her by the family, con* 
 fcious of her humble rank in life, always be- 
 haved as a dependant upon their bounty. 
 
 c % She
 
 20 LMILY. 
 
 She cfcaped much of the jealoufy likely te 
 be attached to the favourite of her young 
 miitrefs by the fervants, as flic conducted 
 herfelf towards them all in an obliging and 
 unarmming manner. 
 
 Improved by the example of her aunt, as 
 well as by her inftruc~rions, Emily derived 
 from her the moft ufeful habits of activity 
 and diligence. She learned to be a great 
 economift of her time, particularly by ac- 
 quiring an extraordinary quicknefs in drefl- 
 ing; but her appearance was always neat 
 and pleafing, and fimplicity was the charac- 
 teriitic of her attire. Her dilpatch in drefl- 
 ing was promoted by her father's impatience 
 to have her as much in his prefence as pofii- 
 ble, and was confirmed into a conftant prac- 
 tice by her folicitude to be punctual upon all 
 occaiions. Among her other ufeful acquire- 
 ments fhe excelled in all kinds of needlework. 
 She occafionally fupcrintcnded the domeftic 
 concerns of the iamily, perfectly learned from 
 her aunt what the duty of the fervants was, 
 and commended and valued them, not merely 
 8 for
 
 EMILY. 21 
 
 for their attention to hcrfelf, but becaufe they 
 were honeft, faithful, and diligent. 
 . Her relaxations from ftudy confifted in 
 little excurfions with her father or her aunt 
 into the neighbouring villages. Often in 
 purfuit of Fanny, with her eheeks glowing 
 with exercife, and her heart bounding with 
 joy, flie ran round the lawn with the fpeed 
 of an Atalanta. In the winter ihe fed the 
 red-breafts that every morning flew to her 
 window ; in the fpring ihe watched the firft 
 opening of the fnow-drop, crocus, and prim- 
 rofe, and enjoyed the fongs of the various 
 birds that frequented the plantations. She 
 was furprized that the boys of the village 
 could be fo cruel as to rob the fweet warblers 
 of their eggs, and even of their young. 
 
 A neft of young linnets was given to her ; 
 Cue placed them in a cage, and fed them 
 every day with the greateft care, till they 
 were futficiently grown to fly : {he then con- 
 futed with Fanny what ihould be done with 
 them. Fanny wiihed them to be kept pri- 
 foners, for the pleaflire of continuing to 
 
 feed
 
 22 EMILY. 
 
 feed them, and hear them fing in the cage. 
 Emily urged, that it was cruel to confine 
 them, as they would be much happier in 
 their native fields. When her father told 
 her me might difpofe of them as fhe pleafed, 
 ihe inftan.tly ran with the cage into the gar- 
 den, and opened the door. It would be dif- 
 ficult to defcribe her joy, and how much fhe 
 laughed and danced with delight, when ihe 
 faw all the young linnets wing their way 
 over the lawn, and efcape to the woods. 
 
 When Emily had reached her feventeenth 
 year,, me began to accompany her father in 
 his vifits to the neighbouring families, and 
 difplaying at this interefting feafon of life the 
 bloom of her charms, fhe became an obje6t 
 of regard and love wherever fhe went. In 
 ft-ature fhe was rather above the middle fize, 
 her features were delicate and regular, her 
 fine and full auburn locks fhaded her face, 
 her complexion was fair, her cheeks were 
 tinged with the roles of health, and her dark 
 bright eyes beamed with foft and benignant 
 luftre. 
 
 No
 
 EMILY. U3 
 
 No one who is fufceptible of the enjoy- 
 ment of fweet founds can be indifferent to 
 the voice of female youth and iimplicity. 
 The voice of Emily was melodious and fort; 
 her manner of fpeaking was fometimes Co 
 plaintive and tender as to border upon me- 
 lancholy, particularly when lhe talked earn- 
 eftly upon any fubjecl: : her tone was capa- 
 ble of thofe fine modulations, which under 
 the direction of a ikilful mailer would have 
 rendered her an accomplilhed finger. 
 
 The mind of Emily was no lefs bountifully 
 gifted by nature than her perfon : her me- 
 mory was retentive, and her lively imagina- 
 tion was regulated by an accurate judgment: 
 flie had an eager defire for every kind of 
 ufeful knowledge, and her curiofity was al- 
 ways directed to proper objects of inquirv. 
 In mixed parties flie talked little ; her re- 
 marks were ihort and pertinent, and often 
 mowed a degree of propriety beyond her 
 years. Her temper was fweet and inge^ 
 nuous, me admired in others the franknefi 
 which marked her own difpofition; her great 
 
 diffi-
 
 £4 EMILY. 
 
 diffidence induced her to think humbly of 
 hericlf, and highly of others : ilie attributed 
 every attention paid to her to the indulgence 
 of her friends, and never to her own merit. 
 
 Gentle as the dove was Emily, and fo 
 eaiily affected that a harfli word failed not to 
 bedew her eyes with tears. If the malevo- 
 lent ever made any remarks upon, her, for 
 the flies will fometimes fix upon the faireft 
 fruits, they mull have been wholly unmerited, 
 as it was her conftant endeavour to give 
 pleafure, and communicate kindnefs by every 
 w r ord and action of her life : her heart was as 
 enlarged as it was warm and iincere ; (he 
 willied to iliare the fprrows, and increafe the 
 happinefs of all within the circle pf her fo- 
 ciety, and her benevolence was extended to 
 every creature. 
 
 Affability and fweetnefs fhone in her eye?, 
 and gave the livelieft animation to her face : 
 when her looks were grave and ferious, ihe 
 commanded that attention from her admirers 
 which might occafionally wander to other 
 objects, but it was impollible not to have that 
 
 attention
 
 EMILY. c 25 
 
 attention fixed executively upon herfelf, by the 
 fafcination of her fmiles. 
 
 Such beauty, much as it may be heightened 
 by vivacity, cannot be complete without fen- 
 tifnent: to fee it then exerting all its power, 
 we mult have beheld Emily bending in pa- 
 tient fufferance under pain, fympathifing in 
 the generous folicitudcs of friendfhip, or 
 warmed with the foft tranfports of filial 
 affe£tion. 
 
 Unhappily for her, many of the occur- 
 rences of her future life gave too much fcope 
 for the trial of her fenfibility ! 
 
 The power of affection is the greateft when 
 it has few objects to fix upon ; it is then like 
 the rays of the fun brought to a focus, the 
 ftronger for being concentered. Emily was 
 fond of her aunt and her companion, but 
 flie loved her father with a kind of enthu- 
 fiafm. As flie grew up to the age of reflection, 
 ihe faw flie owed every thing to his kind- 
 nefs — her fubfiftence, many of her inftruc- 
 tions, and even many of her amufements. 
 As often as he embraced her with a warm 
 
 exclamation,
 
 26 EMILY. 
 
 exclamation, " How exactly you refemblc 
 your mother !" there was a conflict between 
 grief and joy depictured in his countenance — 
 grief for the lofs of an invaluable wife, and 
 joy, that the child ilie had bequeathed to his 
 cfpecial care was the image no lefs of her 
 fweetnefs of diipofition, than of the beauty of 
 her perlbn. 
 
 To teach Emily to fpeak and write her 
 own language correctly and elegantly — to 
 form proper and edifying notions of the 
 Chriitian Religion and its divine Author, 
 and to fix her mind upon the beautiful and 
 fublime works of creation, were the leading 
 topics of her father's inftru6tions. They be- 
 came at various times the fubjects of the 
 following Converfations. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. V, 
 
 THE ADVANTAGES OF A KNOWLEDGE Ofr 
 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 
 
 CONVERSATION 1. 
 
 AFTER Emily had carefully gone through 
 the molt important parts oiLindhy Murray's 
 EngUfn Grammar, and tranfcribed many of 
 its rules, her father had the following con- 
 verfation with her upon the fubje6h 
 
 Emily. As you are fo kind as to teach me 
 Grammar, I hope you will tell me the ufe 
 of it. 
 
 Colonel Lorton. The knowledge of Gram- 
 mar will enable you to fpeak and write in a 
 proper manner. This knowledge marks the 
 diftinction between the well informed and the 
 illiterate, and is the certain proof of a polite 
 education. 
 
 Emily.
 
 28 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 
 
 Emily, What is the meaning of Or i ho- 
 graphy^ the firft part of Grammar ? 
 
 Colonel Lorton. It is the method of fpell- 
 ing with correclnefi. Faults in fpelling are 
 deemed inexcufable in peribns who have had 
 a good education. Accuracy in this refpeel:, 
 it is true, will not entitle you to praife, but 
 it will fecure you from blame. Faults may 
 be avoided by confulting a fpelling dictionary, 
 and you had much better take the trouble of 
 turning over a few leaves to find a word, than 
 
 o ■ ■ ■ 
 
 expofe yourfelf to the cenfure or the ridicule of 
 your correfpondents. The dictionary of Dr. 
 Johnfon is the beft in our language, You have 
 the oclavo edition, which is an abridgment of 
 the original work, and is very convenient for 
 a lady's ufc. You will find it qf great fervice 
 in the definitions, that is, in explaining the 
 meaning of words. 
 
 Emily, Does Dr. Johnfon always fpllow 
 the lame rule in fpelling ? 
 
 Colonel Lorton. lie fpellcd many words 
 originally derived from Latin like the French 
 becaufe it was his opinion, that we tpok them 
 
 from
 
 from the latter language ; for example, he 
 wrote favour and /io?<our f and yet he always 
 fpelled author without an a. He wrote m* 
 quire not enquire; and yet he recommends 
 entire from the French entier, initead of intire 
 from the Latin word integer. The prefent 
 mode of fpelling requires us to omit the u in 
 all words of more than two fyllablcs, as in 
 ambaflador, governors, protector, &c. 
 
 E. I am at a lois how to fpell words that 
 are fometimes ended with k, and fometimes 
 without it. 
 
 C. Dr. Johnfon preferves, I believe al- 
 ways, the mode of ending ilich words as 
 mutic, critic, ruitic, and profaic, with a k. 
 One who doubts of every thing mult furely 
 be a very ftrange being ; and how unpieafing 
 to. the eye does the word appear which ex- 
 pre lies thefe ideas, when reprefented thus — ■ 
 Skeptick — fuch is Dr. Johnfoifs manner of 
 fpelling it in his Dictionary. Partiality to 
 this letter cxifts no longer, though we retain 
 it indeed in /tick, and its compounds candle- 
 
 ftick,
 
 30 ENGLISH GRAMMA ft. 
 
 luck, Sec. and in words of one fyllable, as in 
 iick, Sec. 
 
 E. What is the meaning of Etymology, 
 the iecond part of 'Grammar? 
 
 C It treats of the different kinds of words, 
 and the words from which others are derived. 
 
 E. What is its ufe? 
 
 C. Without fome knowledge of Etymology, 
 you will be liable to make frequent, and fome- 
 times ridiculous miftakes, by uling one word 
 inftead of another which refembles it. This was 
 the cafe with the perfon, who after having feen 
 an obeli/ky which means a pillar, faid he had 
 feen a bafili/lc, which means a make ; and 
 complained that he was confined to a ftric~t 
 regiment, which means a number of foldiers 
 under a colonel, inftead of regimen, which 
 means a manner of Irving according to rule. 
 
 E. I believe the words Orthography and 
 Etymology are derived from the Greek; is 
 our language derived from others as well as 
 Greek ? 
 
 C. Yes, for we have words derived from 
 2 Latin,
 
 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 31 
 
 Latin, German, Italian, and French. You 
 may recollect fome inftances of the truth of 
 this observation as far as French and Italian 
 arc concerned ; and you may rely on the af- 
 furance, that many of our words of two or 
 more Syllables are derived from Latin or 
 Greek. This is more particularly the cate 
 with refpeefc to the terms of fcience. 
 
 E. Are there not many words in our lan- 
 guage that have the fame meaning ? 
 
 C. No, very few. Grammar is very ufc- 
 ful in teaching the distinctions which fubfift 
 between words, and you will find few in any 
 language that are Strictly fynonymous, that is, 
 that have exactly the fame meaning. T: 
 may indeed agree in expreiiing one principal 
 idea, but they dirfer in fome particulars, and 
 the more vou can difcover this difference, the 
 greater progrefs you will make in knowledge, 
 and the more accurately you will exprefs 
 yourfelf ; and you will have the fame advan- 
 tage over a perfon who confounds the dis- 
 tinctions of w r ords, that a painter has who 
 inftantly difcovers the different iliades of co- 
 lours,
 
 3£ ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 
 
 lours, which efcape the notice of the carelcfs 
 fpec~httor: 
 
 E. Pray tell me what is the difference 
 between pride and vanity ? 
 
 C» A proud man values himfelf for things 
 comparatively great, fuch as his antient fa^ 
 mily, title, or property. A vain man for 
 little things, fuch as his drefs, his liveries, 
 &c. 
 
 E. I heard you fay the other day you were 
 fiirprized and aftonijhed; could you not as 
 properly have laid you trere amazed and 
 confounded t \ 
 
 d By no means : I am furprized at what. 
 is new or unexpected, I anl aitonifhed at 
 what is great, I am amazed at what I can- 
 not underftand, atld I am confounded with 
 what is frightful. 
 
 Some very common words cannot be ofed 
 for others without impropriety : for example, 
 the verb to learn, inftead of the verb to teach; 
 If I fay, I will learn you a leflbrt, I exprefs 
 myfelf improperly, for I ought to ufe the 
 word teach. In order to fee the diitin&ion, 
 
 recollect
 
 ENGLISH GRAMMAR* 3S 
 
 recollect, that the mqfter teaches, and the 
 fcholar learns. Similar is the miitake with 
 refpect to the verbs lay and lie* To lie has 
 a variety of fenfes ; the prevailing one is, 
 to reft, as in bed ; to lay, is to caufe to lie. 
 The accuracy of the Scripture language 
 may lead you to fee clearly the diftin&ion 
 here pointed out. The ruler of the fyna- 
 gogue, mentioned by St. Mark, faid to our 
 Saviour, " My little daughter lieth at 
 the point of death, I pray thee come and 
 lay thy hands upon her, that file may be 
 healed?' 
 
 Take care you do not confound ingenious 
 with ingenuous, as the former means ikilful ; 
 for initancc, we fay, tc an ingenious artift; ,> 
 the latter means open, or candid, as we fay, 
 " a perfon of an ingenuous difpofition." 
 Preferve the diftinction between to fit and to 
 jet ; for example, " I fit in a chair, the gar- 
 dener fcts plants in the garden." Never ufe 
 the prefent tenfe of the verb to Jhew for the 
 paft tenfe. You may fee the diftinetions 
 
 vol. i. d this
 
 34 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 
 
 this verb requires in the following fcntence. 
 " Ijhew you my book to-day, as you Jhewed 
 yours to ine yefterday ; but it was not Jhexvn 
 to me before." It is become more the 
 cultom of late to ufe the verb to Jhoxo the 
 paft tcnte Jkowedy and the paffive participle 
 flown. 
 
 Counfel is advice, council is an affembly of 
 perfons ; prejident is a perfon who has the 
 chief authority, a precedent is an example : 
 principal, an adjective, means the chief, 
 principle a fubftantive, means a conitituent 
 part. 
 
 Remember my Emily, that thinking as 
 well as expressing our thoughts, is the pro- 
 perty of a rational being. Be careful there- 
 fore neither to talk nor to write without re- 
 flecting on the true mean ine of vour words, 
 left the volubility of the tongue, or the rapi- 
 dity of the pen mould betray you into 
 miftakes. 
 
 E. I think I know the accidence, which 
 you and my aunt taught me was the 
 
 third
 
 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 35 
 
 third part of grammar, and included all the 
 different parts of fpeech ; but pray explain 
 to me what is meant by Syntax ? 
 
 C. Accidence treats of fingle words, and 
 Syntax of the right arrangement of words in 
 a fentence. Syntax confifts of two parts, 
 concord and government. 
 
 E. What is concord ? 
 
 C. It is the agreement of one word with 
 another, in gender, number, cafe, and 
 perfon. 
 
 E. How many concords are there ? 
 
 C. Three. The firft concord confifts in 
 making the verb agree with its nominative 
 cafe in number and perfon, as " I love." 
 The fecond confifts in making the adjective, 
 whether a noun, pronoun, or participle 
 agree with its fubftantive in cafe, gender, 
 and number, as " the fwlft flight of wingzd 
 time." The third confifts in making the re- 
 lative agree with its antecedent in gender, 
 number, and perfon, as " the man is bleffed 
 who fears the Lord : whom the Lord loveth, 
 he chafteneth," 
 
 d2 E, What
 
 36 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 
 
 E. What is government ? 
 
 C. It is that power which one part of 
 fpeech has over another, in determining its 
 particular number, gender, cafe, perfon, 
 mood, or tenfe. 
 
 The chief object of fyntax is to teach due 
 method, in writing or fpeaking, and method 
 is not lefs an advantage than an ornament 
 to whatever fubject it is applied : 
 
 Thus \ifcful arms in magazines we place, 
 All rang'd in order, and difpos'd with grace ; 
 But lefs to plcafe the eye, than arm the hand, 
 Still fit for ufe, and ready at command. 
 
 Pope. 
 
 E. How can I learn to read well ? 
 
 C. By pronouncing every word diftincHy, 
 attending to your ftops, or paufes ; by lay- 
 ing a proper emphafis, and reading in a 
 proper tone. 
 
 E. How do ftops mark the different parts 
 of time? 
 
 C, The Comma reprefents the fhorteft 
 panic, the Semi-colon is double that of the 
 
 comma ;
 
 ENGLISH GRAMMAR. 37 
 
 c omma ; the Colon double that of the femi- 
 colon ; and the Period double that of the 
 Colon. 
 
 E. What is emphafis ? 
 
 C It is a ftronger exprefTion of the voice 
 by which we diitinguifh fome word or words 
 in a fentence from all the others, fo as belt 
 to convey the writer's meaning. 
 
 E. What is the beft general rule for read- 
 ing ? 
 
 C. That which was given by Dean Swift; 
 I hope you will never forget it ; 
 
 Learn to read flow ; all other grace? 
 Will follow in their proper places. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAR VI. 
 
 THE RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE OF A 
 CHRISTIAN, 
 
 CONVERSATION II. 
 
 J he application of Colonel Lorton to reli- 
 gious ftudies, was encouraged, as has been 
 before hinted, by his deiire to gain fuch in- 
 formation as would enable him to give to 
 nis daughter proper notions of her duty. If 
 the extent to which he carried his refearches, 
 as will be fhown in the following converfa- 
 tions, and his acquaintance with the Holy 
 Scriptures be thought extraordinary for a lay^ 
 man, let it be confidered, that other perfons 
 have made farther advances in the ftudy 
 of religion, who were more engaged in the 
 active and more public bufinefs of the world, 
 
 than
 
 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 39 
 
 than the Colonel. The works of Addifon on 
 the general iubjects of Chriftianity, of Nelfon 
 on the Feftivals, of George Lord Lyttelton 
 on the Conveiiion of St. Paul, of Weft on 
 the Refurreclion, of Waldo on the Sacra- 
 ment, and Burgh on the Trinity, have done 
 honour to the pens and the piety of laymen. 
 Colonel Lorton well acquainted with all 
 thefe excellent works, was encouraged by 
 fuch examples, to make fimilar attainments, 
 but for a different purpofe ; he had no am- 
 bition indeed to give public proofs of his 
 zeal in the beft of all caufes, but he was ac- 
 tuated by motives truly amiable and praife- 
 worthy — a fenfe of duty to his daughter ; 
 and that duty preffmg more ftrongly upon 
 his mind, from the conltant recollection of 
 her mother's final and moft earned requeft. 
 
 When we are vifiting the cottages in the 
 village, faid Emily to her father, it makes 
 me forry to hear the peafants complain lb 
 much ; and even among perfons of better 
 condition, there feems to be a great deal of 
 
 discon-
 
 40 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 
 
 diicontent. What is the reafon, mankind 
 are not happier than they are ? 
 I C. Becaufe they are not better; their 
 vices and irregularities are the chief caufes 
 of their mifery, 
 
 E. How could they become better ? 
 
 C By being better Chriftions, 
 
 E. What can make men fo? 
 
 C. The practice of what they profefs to 
 believe ; a life palled in the diligent dif- 
 charge of their refpeclive duties, whether 
 they relate to God, their neighbour, or them- 
 felves, that the good tree may he known by 
 its fruits, and their faith in our bleffed Sa- 
 viour may be known by their works : this is 
 the conduct which proceeds from truly chrif- 
 tian principles. 
 
 E. What is a principle ? 
 C. It fometimes means a conftituent part 
 of any thing, but I now ufe the word to fig- 
 nifv a reafon or ground for action. 
 
 E. Why do you think the principle of a 
 Chriftian fo excellent ? 
 
 C. Becaufe
 
 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 41 
 
 C. Becaufe it is agreeable to the will of 
 God, and is a certain rule to which we can 
 refer our thoughts, words, and actions. It 
 is the only fafe guide to conduct us through 
 life with a 2;ood confeience. 
 
 E. Pray tell me what will be my advan- 
 tage in this world to be a £ood chriltian ? 
 
 C. The practice of the chriltian virtues, 
 fuch as faith, temperance, charity, patience, 
 produces health of body and peace of mind, 
 the love and refpect of ail whofe good opi- 
 nion is truly valuable ; and our holy religion 
 gives too in every fituation of live ; even the 
 moil painful and diftrelTmg, the greateft en- 
 couragement to norE, the fweeteft cordial of 
 the human breaft. 
 
 E. What expectations are raifed by this 
 hope ? 
 
 C. That God approves, and will reward 
 a life conducive to his honour, and devoted 
 to his fervice : that for the good Chriltian 
 are prepared heaven and a crown of glory, 
 the company of the angels, and faints — the 
 prefence of God ; at zvho/e right hand there 
 
 are
 
 42 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 
 
 are plea fur es for evermore, furpafling all our 
 prefent ideas of enjoyment, for they are fuch 
 as eye hath not feen, nor ear heard, neither 
 hath it entered into the heart of man to 
 conceive. 
 
 Suppofe there were perfons, my Emily, 
 fo weak or fo wicked as to baniih. from their 
 minds fuch hopes of future happinefs as thefe, 
 I am firmly perfuaded that no means can be 
 found fo effectual to reconcile the evils, and 
 calm the forrows of life. Suppofe fuch perfons 
 were to fall into diftrefs, to be reduced very 
 low in their circumftances, to be deprived by 
 death of their neareft relations and moft in- 
 timate friends, any or all of which events 
 may happen in the courfe of human life, to 
 what could they look for comfort? To the 
 refources of their own minds ? Alas ! they 
 would rather fupply new fubjecls for regret 
 and lamentation, from the melancholy re- 
 flection that their pleafures were gone to re- 
 turn no more. Would they look to the 
 world for companion ? The world is a flat- 
 terer, which only worfhips the rifing fun, 
 
 pays
 
 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE, 43 
 
 pays its homage to the prosperous and gay, 
 and abandons the mourner to the unrelieved 
 indulgence of fighs and tears. In Such a Situ- 
 ation as this, high is the value, and great 
 the power of our holy religion, and the moft 
 compoSed, refigned, and dignified Sufferers 
 are thoSe, who are Supported by its conSola- 
 tions. And that a Christian finds Substantial 
 comSort in the moSt trying of all Situations, 
 in his laSt SickneSs, and the hour of death, 
 has been proved by witnefTes of the Solemn 
 Scene. He looks forward to his Suture un- 
 tried State oS being with pious confidence in 
 the merits oShis Redeemer ; his thoughts are 
 full of immortality ; faith Supports his mind, 
 and enables him to pierce the gathering 
 (hades of death — It ihows him his Saviour 
 ready to receive him — he dies, and goes to 
 heaven. 
 
 E. You remind me of a paffage you read 
 the other day to my aunt and me, relative to 
 the death of Mr. AddiSon. 
 
 C. Your hint is much to the purpoSe. 
 When that excellent author and amiable 
 
 man
 
 4<t UELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE, 
 
 man was near his end, lie requested Lord 
 Warwick, a thoughtlefs and irregular youth, 
 to approach his bed, and, grafping his hand, 
 bade him obferve with what calm relignation 
 and firm hope a Chriitian could leave the 
 world. 
 
 " lie taught us how to live, and O too high 
 The price for knowledge ! taught us how to die." 
 
 You may likewise remark the other paf- 
 fages we read in Lindlcy Murray's " Power 
 of Religion'' that related to Lady Jane Grey, 
 Lady Rachel Rufiel, and Mrs. Rowe. They 
 were all true Chriftians, and were fupported 
 by the aid of that Religion, which they had 
 made the guide of their lives. 
 
 E. What is the advantage to perfons in 
 high life and to the rich of being good Chril- 
 tian s ? 
 
 C. Our Religion renders them more con- 
 fiderate, and lets proud and prefumptuous 
 than they would otherwife be. They are 
 exprefsly informed from the higheft autho- 
 rity, that God is no refpcBer of perfons — ■ 
 
 that
 
 UELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 45 
 
 that he rejifteth the proud, and they are cau- 
 tioned not to be high-minded, but to confer 
 I vend to men of low ejlatc. And they are 
 warned not to trujl in uncertain riches, but 
 to lay up treaiures in heaven. 
 
 E. Plow is Chriitianity ufeful to the 
 poor ? 
 
 C. That the poor do not poffefs a larger 
 ihareof the comforts of life is, in fonie cafes, 
 owing to their idlenefs, or extravagance. 
 Yet of much comfort and much enjoyment 
 they muft unavoidably be deprived. What 
 then can fo amply fupplv their wants, and 
 administer to their relief, as the conizations 
 of Religion? Wretched indeed would many 
 of them be, and partial would appear the 
 ways of Providence, if all their profpe&s 
 were bounded by the grave, and they could 
 extend their hopes no farther than the green 
 turf, which " in many a mouldering heap*' 
 diitinguiflies our village church-vard. But 
 they are inftructcd by their fpiritual teachers 
 to look forward to a better and happier 
 world, where there will be no want, and no 
 
 diftin&ion
 
 46 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE, 
 
 diftinclion but in virtue ; where all tears 
 will be wiped from all eyes, and the voice of 
 Penury will be heard no more ! It is this 
 hope which enables the inhabitant of the 
 cottage to endure his earthly diftrefs with 
 patience, and to eat the bread earned by his 
 daily toil with thankfulnefs ; to contemplate 
 his own condition with content, and to look 
 without envy upon his wealthy neighbours. 
 
 jG. If it be defirable to be good Chriitians 
 ourfelves, is it not equally fo that our friends 
 mould refemble us ? 
 
 C. Certainly ; for who are the friends you 
 would truft in the moft important concerns 
 of life? Upon whofe honour and promifes 
 would you place entire dependence? Surely 
 not upon thofe perfons who are known to 
 act from felhlh motives only, nor upon thofe 
 who although they are thought to have great 
 knowledge of the world, have nothing elfe to 
 recommend them to our efteem. But do we 
 not prefer trufting, without hcfitation, our- 
 felves and our affairs to thofe who fear God, 
 and keep his commandments, and whofe ac- 
 tions
 
 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 47 
 
 tions are the fruits of a religious educa- 
 tion ? 
 
 E. How is Chriftianity ufeful in promot- 
 ing the ends of education ? 
 
 C. No part of the fyitem of education can 
 be properly carried on without obedience to 
 parents, and there is only one firm bafis, for 
 that obedience to reft upon. If children are 
 taught from their earlicft age to woriliip their 
 great Creator, to .pray to him as the Author 
 and Giver of all good; and if they are afTured, 
 that he has commanded them to honour their 
 parents ; their obedience is then, and only 
 then, founded upon the firmeft ground. If 
 it be not thus fixed, tiiey mult be preferved 
 in their fubmiffion, either by the authority 
 of parents, which is frequently defective ; or 
 by their own inclination, which is fometi: 
 perverfe, and often changing. 
 
 E. As fuch are the benefits of a religious 
 education, I rejoice to think I have been 
 pioufly brought up ; but how am I to act 
 when I go into the world ? I have heard you 
 and my aunt complain of the many bad per^ 
 
 fons
 
 48 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE, 
 
 ions who are to be found there, arid you 
 have told me the reigning purfuits are wealth 
 and pleafure. I am afraid I ihall be milled 
 by bad examples, and fo hurried away by a 
 love of pleafure, as to forget my duty. To 
 continue a good Chriftian, muft I not re- 
 nounce all amufements and gaiety, and live 
 a life of felf-denial — if fo, had I not better 
 pafs all my life at home, and not go at all 
 into the world ? 
 
 C. Miftakc not fo much the nature of our 
 holy Religion. It requires you neither to 
 imitate the folitary hermit, nor the cloiltered 
 nun. If it was not founded upon a focial 
 principle, how could its rules be practifed ? 
 Our Saviour lived in lbciety, and intended 
 his followers to do fo likewife. A ftate of 
 folitude is inconfiftent with the duties of huf* 
 bands, wives, parents, children, and 'neigh- 
 bours — duties which form the main fubjecls 
 of chriftian morality. 
 
 An infpircd apoitlc advifes us to nfe the 
 world as not abufing it, and how can we ufe 
 it at all, if from miftaken or contracted no- 
 
 tions
 
 KELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 49 
 
 tions of religious obligation, we were to de- 
 iert that poit of duty, which thole very obli- 
 gations, rightly underftood, require us to 
 maintain. 
 
 Chriftianity is not defigned to deftroy, but 
 to regulate our defires — not toleffen, but to in- 
 creafe our real pleafures : it warns us indeed 
 not to purfue them too eagerly. It confines 
 us to that moderation, which is the eflence of 
 rational enjoyment. It makes the things of 
 this world fubjecl to us, inftead of our being 
 fubjecl; to them : it gives Reafon and Con- 
 fcience their juft controul over the paffions; 
 and while it allows us proper liberty of ac- 
 tion, it guards us againft thofe follies, vices, 
 and crimes, which are the certain and fatal 
 effects of unreftrained indulgence. 
 
 Your fituation, like that of every other 
 young perfon juft going to enter into the 
 world, is, I confefs, not without its difficul- 
 ties — but it cannot be otherwife, as life is a 
 fcene of trial and probation for every fon and 
 daughter of Adam. Virtue can only mine 
 in exertion, and the crown of glory cannot 
 
 vol. i, e be
 
 50 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 
 
 be obtained if we decline the neceilary con- 
 teft. Avail yourfelf of all the aids which 
 Ileafon and Religion fupply to overcome 
 temptation, and ftrengthen your good refo- 
 lutions. Often read the Holy Scriptures, 
 and take every proper method to underftand 
 their meaning. Have frequent recourfe to 
 prayer, both in public and private : afk de- 
 voutly for the aid of Divine Grace " to fur- 
 ther you with continual help." Seek a plea- 
 fure in doin<? vour dutv, and you may de- 
 pend upon me you will find it, for the ways 
 of Religion arc ways of pleafantnefs, and all 
 her paths are peace. Often think on the 
 juft views which the Scriptures give of our 
 mortal ftate — that we are jtrangers and pil- 
 grims — that this world, expofed as it is to 
 the ravages of time, and the inroads of de- 
 cay, is not our continuing city — that we feek 
 one to come, which will afTuredly be perma- 
 nent and everlafting, bccaufe its builder and 
 maker is God. 
 
 You know, my deareit Emily, that I re- 
 ceive a very great pleafure in feeing you 
 
 drelled
 
 RELIGIOUS PRINCIPLE. 51 
 
 dreffed with neatnefs and tafte; but very 
 culpable indeed ihould I think myfelf, i£ 
 while I am attending to the ornaments of 
 your perfon, I forget thofe which are proper 
 for your mind. Ihe ornament of all the 
 molt defirable and the molt valuable is found 
 religious principle; it is the richeft jewel you 
 can poffefs ; it is neither fubieft; to the decay 
 of age, nor the changes of fafhion, but rifes 
 in value by length of time ,* its beauty will 
 never be impaired ; it is bright and moft be- 
 coming in this world, and will mine with in- 
 creafmg luftre throughout all eternity. 
 
 * 2 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. VII. 
 
 THE EXAMPLE AND INSTRUCTIONS OF OUR 
 BLESSED SAVIOUR. 
 
 ^v^v>>,r^ 
 
 CONVERSATION III. 
 
 JE. I have often heard you fay that many 
 pictures upon facred fubjects, executed by 
 the beft maiters, are well calculated to con- 
 firm religious impreflions. Which do you 
 think gives the moft lively idea of any action 
 of our bleffed Saviour's life ? 
 
 C. I never read that gracious and af- 
 fectionate invitation, Suffer the little chil- 
 dren to come unto me, and forbid them 
 not, for of fuch is the kingdom of heaven, 
 without recollecting a picture by Rubens in 
 
 the
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 53 
 
 the Duke of Marlborough's collection at 
 Blenheim. 
 
 jE. Pray give me a particular defcription 
 of the fubjec~t of that picture. 
 
 C. The fubject. is our Saviour blefling 
 the children. The painter has reprefented 
 the icene with admirable effect; the prin- 
 cipal figures are our Lord, a father and 
 mother, and their children of different ages. 
 The countenance of our Saviour is expref- 
 five of dignity, ibftened by the mildeft be- 
 nevolence : he lays his hand upon the 
 head of the eldeft child, whofe eyes are 
 downcaft, and his hands are clafped together 
 as in devout reverence : another little boy 
 ftands eager to take his brother's place, and 
 expreffes impatience mixed with fvveet timi- 
 dity ; and a third young child is liftening at- 
 tentively to the bleffmg pronounced by our 
 Saviour. The father of the children, a manly 
 iigure, appears much pleafed ; and pious gra- 
 titude and heartfelt delight animate the fea- 
 tures of the mother. If the painter intended 
 to convey a complete idea of the amiable con- 
 
 defcenfion
 
 54 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. • 
 
 flefcenfion of out* Lord, hie could not, I think, 
 have effected hispurpofe in a happier manner. 
 Take notice, my Emily, this Condefcenjion is 
 the firft excellence to be obferved and ad- 
 mired In our blefled Saviour ; it flowed from 
 his infinite love to mankind, and it appeared 
 in every part of his conduct in completing the 
 great work of our redemption. 
 
 E. Did not our blefled Lord with the 
 fame condefcenfion inftruct all perfons with- 
 out regard to their rank or fituation in life? 
 
 C. He difplayed the power of divine truth 
 and the moil profound knowledge of Scrip- 
 ture in his converfations with the haughty 
 Priefts, the learned Scribes, the hypocritical 
 Pharifees, and the infidel Sadducees. He 
 laboured to convince them of their preju- 
 dices, to remove their errors by the founded 
 arguments, and to enlighten their minds with 
 the knowledge of his fublime doctrines. With 
 Publicans, that is, with tax-gatherers, and 
 even with Sinners, he converfed, in order to 
 produce their reformation ; and to the capa- 
 cities of the mean and illiterate, the peafants 
 
 of
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 55 
 
 of Galilee, and the populace of Jeruialein, 
 he adapted his heavenly precepts. He 
 preached to the poor, and defired his fol^ 
 lowers to fuffer the little children to come 
 unto him. as thinking them not beneath his 
 attention and care. His initructions were 
 addrefled to all peribns without exception, 
 whenever ignorance was to be removed, and 
 fouls were to be faved. 
 
 E. Did not our Lord act as well as teach in 
 the very beft manner? 
 
 C. He did. What rendered him fo ex- 
 traordinary, and railed him fo far above other 
 teachers, was, that he was a perfeel model 
 of confiftencv. His conduct was the exacl; 
 copy of his inftruclions. He prefented to 
 the world that lively image of moral perfec- 
 tion, which Plato, one of the celebrated phi- 
 lofophers of antient Greece, laid if it could 
 be made vifible to man, would excite the 
 moft aftonifhing love of wifdom. 
 
 With refpeel to his inftructions, the ftriking 
 allufions by which he illuftrated, and the very 
 impreffive manner in which he inculcated 
 
 them,
 
 56 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. * 
 
 them, not only rendered him fuperior to all 
 other teachers ; but in order to unite the beft 
 example with the pureft precepts, he was the 
 unerring guide to all that was truly good, 
 and all that was really noble and praiie- 
 worthy; to fuch a degree of perfection in- 
 deed, that you may be allured his character 
 is without an equal in the hiftory of mankind. 
 
 E. Is there any part of his inftructions to 
 which you wifh to guide my particular atten- 
 tion? 
 
 C. Yes, to the Difcourfe on the Mount, 
 as recorded in the Gofpel of St, Matthew; 
 for I confider it as a fummary of chriftian 
 morality ftated with all cle-arnefs, and re-* 
 commended with all authority. Our blefled 
 Saviour teaches us in this firft- and beft of 
 fermons, that the divine bleffing will attend 
 the meek, the pure in heart, and the compaf- 
 fionate — thofe who are eager for fpiritual im- 
 provement, and thofe who fufFer for their 
 adherence to his fervice. He initructs us 
 that his is a Religion of the heart, in- 
 tended to regulate all its movements ; its ge- 
 nuine
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. ,57 
 
 nuine fruits are acts of tmoftcntatious piety 
 to God, and unfeigned benevolence to man. 
 Convinced of the uncertain nature of worldly 
 poffeflions, it is our beft intereft to lay up 
 treafures in heaven, and diilnifling too much 
 anxiety to procure the comforts of life, we 
 ought to place a firm reliance on the Divine 
 Providence for the fupply of our future wants. 
 As a tree is known by the quality of its 
 fruit, fo is our chriftian profeffion brought 
 to the teft by our actions : if it be founded 
 upon folid principles, we mall be able to re- 
 fill the attacks of periecution and temptation 
 with as much firmnefs, as a houie built on a 
 rock withftands the violent winds, the beat- 
 ing rains, and the ruining torrents. 
 
 E. Does not the Sermon on the Mount 
 include the Lord's Prayer? 
 
 G. I am much pleafed with you for recol- 
 lecting fo important a particular, and I hope 
 you will never repeat the Lord's Prayer with 
 levity or hafte, or without carefully attending 
 to its full fcope and meaning. It is replete 
 with piety, wifdom, humility, and charity, 
 
 that
 
 58 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. ' 
 
 that I cannot hefitate to pronounce it the 
 offence of all devotion. Such is the admi- 
 rable felection of topics, that it is truly 
 worthy of its divine author, and coniidering 
 by whom it was compofed, it muft. be the 
 moft acceptable facrifiee of fupplication, that 
 can be offered by mortal man to the throne 
 of grace. 
 
 Thus are we beft inftrucled in what man- 
 ner to worfhip in " fpirit and in truth*' the 
 great Author and Difpofer of our being, 
 whom we are allowed, with the affectionate 
 reverence of dutiful children, to addrefs with 
 the endearing name of " our Father :" — we 
 render to him the honour and praife due to 
 his adorable name; we exprefs an anient 
 defire that his holy will may be executed on 
 earth by men, with the fame cheerful obedi- 
 ence, as it is by the angels in heaven ; and 
 that his fpiritual reign over the hearts of all 
 men may foon be eftablilhed : we alk for 
 the fupply of our daily wants, and entreat 
 the pardon of our offences, upon the only 
 condition on which he is pleafed to grant it — 
 
 a con-
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 59 
 
 a condition full of mercy to mankind, and 
 redounding to the endlefs glory of God. 
 And as the for pv em-fa cf injuries is one of 
 the leading features of the gofpel difpenfa- 
 tion, our Lord made a particular comment 
 upon it, at the clofe of this fhorteft and belt 
 of prayers. 
 
 E. Our Saviour had a particular method 
 of inftrucring his hearers by parables, tell 
 me what is a parable ? 
 
 C. A parable is a fhort ftory, in which 
 the actions and converfations of men are 
 defcribed, with a view to convey a moral 
 leffon. 
 
 E. Why did our Saviour fpeak fo often in 
 parables ? 
 
 C. Becaufe it is a much more lively me- 
 thod of inftruction, and excites more atten- 
 tion, than giving advice in plain terms. 
 
 E. With which of the parables of our 
 Lord are you molt pleafed ? 
 
 C. With that of the Prodigal Son. It 
 teaches us a lefifon of all the molt welcome 
 and delightful : it fets before us the un- 
 bounded
 
 60 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. ■ 
 
 bounded love of God to contrite tinners, 
 illustrated by the cordial reception given by 
 an affectionate father to a fon, who after a 
 courfe of extravagance and vice, returns to 
 him a tincere penitent I will arife and go to 
 my father, and will fay unto him, Father, 
 I have finned againjl heaven, and before 
 thee, and am no more 'worthy to be called 
 thy fan. — — When he was yet a great way 
 off, his father I aw him, and had compqfon on 
 him, and ran and fell on his neck, and ki fed 
 him, and [aid to his fervants, Bring forth 
 the befl robe, and put it on him, and Jhoes on 
 his feet, and bring hither the fatted calf, and 
 kill it, and let us eat and be merry ; for this 
 my fori was dead, and is alive, he was lo/f, 
 and is found. 
 
 I am aware how I injure the effect of this 
 fine picture of paternal love, by only mow- 
 ing you fome detached parts ; but I with to 
 point oat the principal incident — the father 
 utters no reproaches ; the voice of nature 
 fpeaks in his actions, and they are the ac- 
 tions of tenderneis and love. 
 
 E. Have
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 61 
 
 E. Have I not heard you often exprefs 
 your admiration of the parable of the Good 
 Samaritan ? 
 
 C. How can I fay too much in its praife, 
 as the leflbn of duty it inculcates is fo con- 
 genial with the moft generous and noble feel- 
 ings of our hearts ? It inftructs us in the na- 
 ture of chriflian charity, which knows no 
 diitinctions of neighbourhood, kindred, or 
 country, but extends its offices to the whole 
 race of human beings. 
 
 An unfortunate traveller, a Jew by nation, 
 is affaulted by robbers ; they plunder and 
 wound him ; two of his countrymen, a Prieft 
 and a Levite, who, by reafon of their facred 
 profeflion, were bound to pay more than com- 
 mon attention to fuch an object of diftrefe, 
 pafs by him either with indifference or con- 
 tempt. A Samaritan, a perfon who might be 
 fuppofed likely to difregard the wounded tra- 
 veller on account of the general averfion of his 
 nation to the Jews, came where he tivas, and 
 zvhcTi he faw him had companion on him, and 
 went to him, and bound up his wounds, and fat 
 
 him
 
 6% THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. ' 
 
 him on his ozon beaft, and brought him to an 
 inn, and took care oj him ; and on the morrow, 
 when he departed, he gave money to the hoji> 
 and f aid, Take care o) him, and zchatfoever 
 thou fp end eft more, when J come again I will 
 repay thee. 
 
 Thefe two parables do move than inftruft 
 the understanding, they excite our belt and 
 fweeteft affections. What writer, either of 
 antient or modern times, ever produced any 
 ftories fo ufeful in the application, fo beauti- 
 ful in the circumftanccs, or fo pathetic in 
 the incidents! Well has it been obferved, 
 that our bleffed Saviour underftood human 
 nature far better than Socrates, the wifeft of 
 the heathen philofophers ; our divine Mafter 
 amends the heart by awakening its lineft 
 feelings, and while he conveys the moft ufe- 
 ful truths to the underftanding, 
 
 " Opes the facfed fource of fympathetic tears." 
 
 I may oblerve in general with refpecl to the 
 
 moral inftructions given to us by our wifeft 
 
 and beft Teacher, whether they appear in the 
 
 9 plain
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 6$ 
 
 plain drefs of direct advice, or are adorned 
 with the beautiful ornaments of parable, 
 that they are iuited to all the various con- 
 ditions, abilities, and attainments of man- 
 kind — to the fimple peafant and to the pro- 
 found fcholar — they are as well adapted to 
 the labourer in our fields, as to the monarch 
 on his throne. 
 
 I could purfue this fubject in terms of 
 more profufe commendation — but vain are 
 my weak efforts to add to its excellence ; as 
 well might I attempt to add perfume to the 
 violet, or beauty to the colour of the role. 
 
 E. Shall I not form a very contracted, or 
 rather a very wrong notion of our Saviour, 
 if I confider him as a mere human being ? 
 
 C. To raife your mind to a more becoming 
 notion of our Saviour's dignity, ever regard 
 him as the Son of God. He exilted from ali 
 eternity, before the world was created, in- 
 vefted with the fame power, and crowned 
 with the fame glory as the Father and the 
 Holy Ghoft. His coming in the flelh was 
 foretold by a long fuceeffioa of infpired pro- 
 phets
 
 64 the example of our saviour. • 
 
 phets from age to age. When he left the 
 realms of glory to take our nature upon him, 
 his birth was announced by a chorus of an- 
 gels; at his baptiim the Holy Spirit de- 
 fended upon him, and a voice from heaven 
 announced him to the aftoniihed multitudes 
 as the beloved Son of the Moft High. Upon 
 the holy mountain, in the prefence of choien 
 difeiples, he reaflumed his glorified appear- 
 ance; he exercifed the attributes of almighty 
 power ; he knew the thoughts and the hearts 
 of men ; he worked the molt altonilhing mi- 
 racles ; at his' command the fea was calmed, 
 and the dead were railed. When he expired 
 upon the crofs, all nature fympathized with 
 him ; the fun was darkened, and the rocks 
 were torn afunder. On the exact day pre- 
 dicted by himfelf, he arofe triumphant from 
 the tomb ; and he finally afcended into hea- 
 ven, and fat down on the right hand of the 
 ■majejlif on high, from whence he will here- 
 after come, attended by hofts of angels, to 
 Judge all the inhabitants of the univerfe. 
 Such was the adorable perfon who deigned 
 
 to
 
 "THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. 65 
 
 to take our nature upon him, fubmitted to 
 be laid in a manger, to endure the greateft 
 hardfhips of life, was defpiftd and rejected, 
 a man of for rows, and acquainted with grief; 
 fo deftitute of all worldly conveniences, that 
 he had not where to lay his head, he patiently 
 witnefTed the ingratitude of his countrymen, 
 and the perfidy of one of his difciples who 
 betrayed him ; he was falfely acculed, and 
 unjultly condemned to a moft painful and 
 dilgraccful death, even the death of the crofs; 
 and to all this privation of heavenly glory 
 and endurance of human mifery he fubmit- 
 ted with confummate patience, in order to 
 refcue us from the divine difpleafure by his 
 death, and purchafe for us the kingdom of 
 heaven by his merits. 
 
 E. I have with pleafure noticed in the 
 gofpel hiftory inftances of our Lord's conde- 
 fcenfion to the female fex, are there many 
 fuch examples ? 
 
 C. There are — at the fuggeftion of his 
 mother, the Virgin Mary, he performed his 
 firft miracle at a marriage feaft ; he con- 
 
 vol. i. f verfed
 
 66 THE EXAMPLE OE OUR SAVIOUR, 
 
 verfed with the woman of Samaria in a 
 molt gracious manner reflecting her own 
 affairs, and his divine miilion. Struck with 
 the pertinent reply and lively faith of the fe- 
 male fufferer who had an iii'ue of blood for 
 many years, he inftantly cured her. He railed 
 the fon of the widow to life, and healed 
 St. Peters mother of a fever. Daughters 
 of Jerufakm, ireep not for me, but for your- 
 selves, and your children, was his affectionate 
 addrefs, when he wifhed to divert their atten- 
 tion from his own afflictions, to the impend- 
 ing deftruetion of then* native city. Martha 
 ami Mary fhared his friendship with their 
 brother Lazarus. At his crucifixion he com- 
 mitted the Virgin Mary to the care of St. 
 John, his beloved difciple, and to Mary 
 Magdalene he iirft appeared, after he rofc 
 from the dead. 
 
 Your lex are under peculiar obligations 
 to their bleffed Saviour, becaufe he raifed 
 the female character to a degree of import- 
 ance, which it had never bciore attained, 
 and ihowed that women are as capable oi 
 
 moral
 
 THE EXAMPLE OF OUR SAVIOUR. O? 
 
 moral improvement and its eternal rewards 
 as men. The delicacy of their feelings, and 
 their capacity for religious impreflions, pre- 
 pare them well for the exerciie of all gofpel 
 virtues, particularly of piety, charity, pati- 
 ence, meeknefs, and refignation. From mo- 
 tives of love and gratitude approve yourfelf 
 worthy of the honour conferred on your fax 
 by your bleffed Lord : follow the example 
 of the pious Mary; like her liften to his in- 
 ftructions before all other fubjects ; let jour 
 admiration of his divine nature and pert 
 example, add ftrength to your faith, and ar- 
 dour to your obedience ; and thus choofe that 
 good part, which amid all the changes of 
 this mortal life, you may reft affured, jkail 
 not be taken away from you. 
 
 " O wonderful love ! O unexampled good- 
 nefs !" exclaimed Emily, " what ought not 
 Chriftians to do in the fervice of their Sa- 
 viour, who has done and fuffered ib much 
 for them ! Surely his very great condefcen- 
 fion and love ous:ht ever to warm our hearts 
 with gratitude, and prompt us to obey his 
 
 f 2 facred
 
 6& THE ttLlM&Lt OF OUR SAVIOUR. 
 
 facred commands with the greateft pleafure. 
 Affift me, I conjure you, deareft father, to 
 be a zealous follower of our bleficd Lord, 
 that I may reach the heaven where he now 
 reigns, and unite with the holy angels in 
 Ringing his everlafting praifes." 
 
 Here Emily paufed — her mind was filled 
 with the fublime fa bjects of devotion, obe- 
 dience, and eternal happinefs. Religion be- 
 gan to exert its mild and falutary power 
 over her, to mingle with her affections, to 
 elevate her defires, and convey a pure and 
 intellectual transport to her tender and fuf- 
 ceptible breaft. 
 
 Her father could read in her expreffive 
 eyes and countenance what was palling in 
 her mind; he did not interrupt her eloquent 
 filence, but left her to meditate upon the 
 very ferious and impreflive topics of their 
 converfation. 
 
 01IAi\
 
 CHAP. VIII. 
 
 OX THE STUDY OF GEOGRAPHY, 
 
 CONVERSATION IV. 
 
 A party was one day aflembled at Lorton 
 Houfc, and the taking of Surinam from the 
 Dutch was the fubjecl; of converfation. 
 Some of the company pretended they knew 
 a great deal of the place. One feid that it 
 was in a cold country, another that it was 
 at no great diftance from England ; and a 
 third, probably miftaking it for Sumatra, 
 confidently afferted that it was an ifland, 
 A queftion arofe in what quarter of the 
 globe it was fituated — one faid it was ii* 
 
 Europe,
 
 70 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 Europe, another contended for Afia, and a 
 third was as confident for Africa. 
 
 Colonel Lorton produced a map of the 
 world, and all thofe who had talked fo 
 plauiibly were equally at a lofs where to 
 look for Surinam. At laft they determined 
 to refer to Mrs. Mapleton, whofe obferva- 
 tions were at firft dilregarded amid the cla- 
 mour of thefe confident pretenders to know- 
 ledge. As foon as the map was laid before 
 her, without the leaft hefitation fhe pointed 
 out the place. u There it is," faid me, 
 " not far from the line, and of courfe the 
 climate mull be very hot. It is a part of 
 Guiana, iituated upon the coaft of South 
 America ; and as to its diftance from Eng- 
 land, if we were to fail two thoufand miles 
 towards it, I am afraid we mould ftill have 
 many more to go, before we arrived there." 
 
 When the vifitors were gone, the Colonel. 
 a(ked Emily, which of the company had 
 talked upon the fubjecl: in the beft manner. 
 
 E\ My aunt, without doubt, becaufe fhe 
 gave information to all the reft. 
 
 C. Then
 
 GEOGHArilY, 71 
 
 C. Then from this infta nee you may judge 
 how defirable it is to be furniihed with fuch 
 very ufeful knowledge as Geography can 
 give. 
 
 E. But I fear I ihall foon grow tired of 
 the ftudy, iliould it all relate to fubjects that 
 have fuch hard names as axis, arctic, and 
 antarctic circles, equator, and ecliptic. 
 
 C. By the explanations I have given you 
 of thefe terms, I hope you fee clearly that 
 they belong to the artificial globe, and are 
 chiefly ufed becaufe they are neceflary to 
 explain the motion of the earth revolving 
 round the fun : when you come to confider 
 the natural globe of the world as compofed 
 of earth and water, and its divifions, you 
 will examine objects as they really exift : 
 the ideas which they prefent are natural and 
 obvious, and therefore will be more eafy for 
 you to underftand and remember. 
 
 E. As it js not probable I fhall ever ex^ 
 tend my travels beyond my native ifland, 
 what is the ufe of gaining a knowledge of 
 foreign countries?
 
 72 GEOGRAPHY, 
 
 C. The place of your refidence can be no 
 objection to the acquirement of iuch infor- 
 mation as may be in any degree either ufe- 
 ful, or ornamental. Of all branches of 
 knowledge there are few more ufeful than 
 Geography. A liberal education is very in- 
 complete without it. Young perfons ihould 
 be inftructed in it, that they may form pro- 
 per notions of the globe they inhabit, of the 
 relative iituations of different countries, and 
 their foils and productions. It gives them 
 a profpect of the various inhabitants of the 
 world, and thus gratifies their curiofity with 
 pleafmg fubjects, all tending to fhow the 
 great variety of nature in the works of cre- 
 ation, and the different conditions of man- 
 kind advancing from lavage life, as among 
 the Hottentots at the Cape of Good Hope — 
 to civilifed fociety, as it is difplayed in the 
 moft refined nations in Europe. 
 
 You will find, too, that Geography is con- 
 nected with many other kinds of knowledge, 
 for inftance with natural hiitory, and the 
 rnanners and cuftoms of different nations — 
 
 fubjecls
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 73 
 
 fubjecxs you are very fond of hearing me 
 talk of. 
 
 E. When you taught me the divifions of 
 the globe into land and water, there were a 
 few I did not clearly underftand : what is an 
 Ijihmus ? 
 
 C. It is a narrow neck of land, which 
 joias a peninfula to a continent. Obferve 
 in the map, the ifthmus of Suez joins Africa 
 to Europe, and the ifthmus of Darien joins 
 North to South America. 
 
 E. What is the difference between an 
 Ocean and a Sea ? 
 
 C. The former is a large body of fait wa- 
 ter, bounded by fome of the larger divifions 
 of the earth : the latter is a fmaller body of 
 fait water communicating with the ocean by 
 a ftraight, as the Baltic, the Mediterranean, 
 and the Euxine feas. There are three prin- 
 cipal Oceans — the Atlantic, the Pacitic, and 
 the Indian. 
 
 Your curiofity to learn Geography will be 
 increafed by your obferving, that we have 
 many articles of provifion, furniture, drefs and 
 
 ornament
 
 '4 Gt-OCiBATllY. 
 
 ornament connected with the knowledge of 
 other countries, and which we fhould enjoy 
 mere perfectly, and value mere highly, if we 
 considered with what labour they are pro- 
 cured, and from what diftant places they 
 are brought 
 
 Take for example the mahogany breakfaft 
 table, and its appendages; the tea, the cof- 
 fee, the fugar, the cups, and faucers, the 
 tea-fpoons, and the mahogany table itfelf. 
 
 E. I know already, that tea grows in 
 China, and that thefe cups and faucers were 
 made there of a fine fort of clay called por-< 
 celain ; coffee is brought from Turkey, and 
 the Weft-Indies : (tear is made from the 
 firgar-cane, which grows in Jamaica, and 
 other iilands in the Weft Indies ; but pray 
 inform me where the mahogany tree grows? 
 
 C. That which is of an inferior kind grows 
 in Honduras, a province of Mexico, in 
 North America ; that which is of a finer 
 grain, and is ufed for elegant cabinet-work, 
 grows m Jamaica. A mahogany tree fome- 
 times reaches the height of eighty feet : this 
 
 wood
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 7 J 
 
 wood among its other excellent properties 
 feldom rots, and is never eaten by the worms. 
 
 JE. You mentioned drefs, as being, con* 
 necked with a knowledge of geography, I 
 know that my muflin and callico gowns are 
 made of cotton — but what is cotton ? 
 
 C. It is the fruit of the cotton fhrub, 
 which grows in China., the Eaft and Weft 
 Indies, and on the weftern coaft of Africa, 
 the rmeft fort is brought from Bengal, and 
 the coaft of Coromandel. The cotton fhrub 
 which is propagated by feed, grows about 
 two feet high, and bears yellow or red 
 flowers : each flow r er is fucceeded bv a fmall 
 button, the fize of a nut, which when ripe 
 opens in three places, and difclofes three or 
 four foldings of beautifully white cotton ; this 
 is carefully gathered, carded, and fpun, and 
 wove into calicoes for the drefYes of the na- 
 tives. It ferves to furniih the clothing to 
 the inhabitants of warm climates, as the 
 fleeces of fheep do to thofe of the cold ones. 
 An immenfe quantity is fent to England and 
 Scotland. You have heard of the curious 
 
 mills
 
 75 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 mills at Nottingham, Manchcfter, and other 
 places, where the cotton is fpun in fo much 
 perfection by means of machinery. It is af- 
 terwards manufactured into muflins, calicoes, 
 fhawls, Sec. 
 
 E. Where is gold found ? 
 
 C. Gold is found chiefly in the Brafils, 
 Africa, and Hungary. Some has been lately 
 difeovered in the county of Wicklow in Ire- 
 land, where a very large piece of native 
 gold was difcovered ; it weighed twenty-two 
 ounces, and was almoft pure. Gold is ge- 
 nerally found in grains, called gold-duft, in 
 the beds of torrents, or mixed with the fand 
 of rivers, that flow down the mountains. 
 The Portuguese employ many Haves to fearch 
 for this precious metal in the mountains near 
 Rio de Janeiro in the Brafils ; and it is com- 
 puted that the quantity exported from thence 
 to Europe docs not amount to lefs than the 
 value of two millions per annum. Gold is 
 the heavieft of the metals except platina, 
 and the moft ductile. 
 
 E, What is meant by ductile ? 
 
 C. Eafy
 
 GEOGRAPHY", 77 
 
 C. Eafy td be drawn out in length ; a 
 tingle grain of pure gold may be beaten out 
 to a furface of fifty fquare inches. An ounce 
 of gold may be beaten into fixteen hundred 
 leaves, each three inches fquare, and thus 
 extended it takes up more than 159,000 
 times its original furface. 
 
 E. Where is filver found ? 
 
 C. In no place is a greater quantity found 
 than in the mountain of Potoii, which is 
 lituatcd in the province of Peru, in South 
 America, near a town of the fame name. 
 All the country belongs to the Spaniards. 
 Accident led to the difcovery of the precious 
 metal which this mountain contains. An 
 Indian, whofe name was Hualpa, purfued 
 fome wild goats up the mountain, and com- 
 ing to a very fteep part took hold of a fhrub, 
 in order to aflift him in climbing, but the 
 fhrub not being itrong enough to fupport his 
 weight, came up by the roots, and difco- 
 vered to his aftonifhed eyes a mafs of bright 
 filver, and fome lumps of the fame metal 
 among the clods that adhered to the roots. 
 
 The
 
 73 GEOGRA*HV. 
 
 The delighted Indian haftened home with 
 his treafure, warned it, exchanged it for va- 
 rious articles of drefs and furniture, and 
 when he wanted more, repaired to the fame 
 fpot in the mountain for a fupply. At length 
 a friend obferving the happy change in his 
 circumftances, importuned Hualpa till he at 
 laft revealed the fecret to him. For fome 
 time they repaired together to the moun- 
 tain, and obtained abundant fupplies till on 
 Hualpa refufing to tell the method by which 
 he purified the metal, his faithlefs friend 
 revealed the fecret to his maft'er Villaroel, a 
 Spaniard. From that time, the year 1545 r 
 the mine was worked for the Spaniih go* 
 vernment. 
 
 E. What a great advantage it would be, 
 if the Engliili were in poffeflion of places 
 that produce gold and filver ! 
 
 C. By no means. The more of the pre- 
 cious metals people pofleis, the more luxu- 
 ries they can purchafe, and the greater their 
 luxuries the more proud and inactive they 
 become. This is the cafe with the Spa* 
 
 niards,
 
 GEOGRAPHY- 79 
 
 march, who arc matters of the treafures of 
 the new world : in proportion as the preci- 
 ous metals are multiplied, the lower they 
 fink in value. For example, if it was the 
 cuitom to make the common kitchen uten* 
 ills of gold and filver, we mould not value 
 them more than we do thofe, which are 
 now made of tin and brais. 
 
 E. Yen have been kind enough to pro* 
 mife me my mother's diamond ear-rings : 
 pray tell me where diamonds are found ? 
 
 C. They are chiefly found in the rocky 
 hills and mountains in the kingdom of Gol- 
 conda, which is iituated upon the bay of 
 Bengal in the Eaft Indies. They are like- 
 wife difcovered in the iiland of Borneo, and 
 in the Brafils. They are found in a rough 
 ltate. not very deep in the earth. The 
 earth, which is of a yellowifh colour, is 
 brought out of the mines, and put into a 
 ciitern, and water is poured in to dirToive 
 it. The diamond-diggers ftir it about, and 
 the lighter part is carried off through an 
 aperture of the veifel with the foul water. 
 
 They
 
 80 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 They continue warning, till what is len; iri 
 the ciftern is clean, and then in the middle 
 of the day, when the fun fhines bright, they 
 carefully look over all the fand, and no dia- 
 monds can efcape their obfervation, as evert 
 the finalleft gives a bright reflection of the 
 fun. 
 
 E. Where docs the pine-apple grow 
 wild ? 
 
 C In many parts of Afia, and in the 
 fouthern parts of North America ; and in 
 the ifland of Java is found great abundance 
 of that delicious fruit. It grows too in ie-» 
 veral of the Weil India iflands, but I have 
 heard it obferved, that in point of flavour, 
 it is not equal to thofe raifed in the hot 
 houfes in England. 
 
 E. From what places are gold arid filver 
 fifties brought; we never find any in our 
 lakes or rivers. 
 
 C. Thefe moft brilliant of the finny race 
 are brought from the rivers of China : na- 
 ture feems to have laviihed all her bounty 
 
 Upon
 
 GEOGKAPHT. 81 
 
 upon their fcales, for they are efteemed but 
 indifferent food. 
 
 E. I think tire molt beautiful birds are 
 the Birds of Paradife, and the Humming 
 Birds. Of what countries are they na- 
 tives ? 
 
 C. Birds of Paradife are natives of Ter- 
 nate, one of the Moluccas or Spice iflands 
 in the Indian Ocean. They are very gentle, 
 as well as beautiful, and can be taught to 
 fing, and imitate the human voice. The 
 humming bird, the fmalleft of the feathered 
 race, is a native of Surinam. It flies with 
 great rapidity, and its gay colours glitter 
 in the fun ; it lives like a bee, by fucking 
 honey from' the flowers. You examined 
 thofe you faw at Crofthwaite's Mufeum fo 
 minutely, the laft time we were at Kefwick, 
 that I need not give you any farther defcrip- 
 tion. 
 
 E. I was much pleafed with the ftory 
 you told me of Omai, who was brought to 
 England by Captain Cook from Otaheite : 
 pray tell me where is Otaheite ? 
 
 vol. i. g C. It
 
 82 GEOGRAPHY, 
 
 C. It is one in a c kilter of illands near 
 the tropic of Capricorn in the Southern Pa- 
 cific Ocean. The inhabitants are very hand- 
 fome and civilized. They are remarkable for 
 their ingenuity, as they can make various 
 kinds of dreffes and ornaments without 
 needles, knives, or fcizzars ; they can hew 
 itone, fell timber, build houfcs, and canoes, 
 without iron tools. For iron they fubftitutc 
 hard wood, and tidies bones : their baikets 
 and Miing lines and nets are ftnimed with as 
 much neatnefs, as they can be made in Eu- 
 rope. Poflibly you may be pleafed to hear 
 of another curious place, which Captain 
 Cook viiited — I mean Kamtfchatka, 
 
 E. What a hard name ! pray tell me where 
 it is ? 
 
 C. It lies in the Northern Pacific Ocean, 
 and is fubjeci to the Emperor of Ruma. 
 The climate is intenfely cold. For nine 
 months in the year the dreary reign of win- 
 ter continues. The inhabitants live almoil 
 intirely upon Mi, which they catch and cure 
 during their fhort Jummer: in the winter 
 
 they
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 83 
 
 they retreat to houfes under ground, which 
 •will contain feveral families. When they 
 travel, they are wrapped up in furrs, and 
 are drawn on Hedges by large rough-coated 
 clogs, trained for the purpofe, and harneiTed 
 like hories : thefe fagacious animals draw 
 their matters with great fwiftnefs over the 
 finooth furface of the frozen fnow. When 
 Captain Cook dined with the governor of 
 this comfortlefs, but not inhofpitable region, 
 he faw Englifh knives and forks upon the 
 table, — a circumftance which gave him a 
 pleafing remembrance of his native country; 
 and which ihows to what remote places arti- 
 cles manufactured in England are conveyed. 
 E. How very curious and entertaining 
 this account is I but although I mould like 
 to ride on a fledge, I think it would be 
 \try unpleafant to ftay long in fo cold a 
 country. I ilippofe the climate of the torrid 
 zone is exactly in the oppofite extreme. 
 Inform me what countries are placed in 
 that hot foliation ? 
 
 c2 CO 
 
 a
 
 Sfc GEOGRAPHY** 
 
 C. One of the principal is Guinea, upoil 
 the wefterh coaft of Africa. The natives 
 called negroes are completely black ; the 
 heat of the weather is intenfe : the pe- 
 riodical rains render the climate very un* 
 ivholefome, yet in defiance of thefe obfta- 
 cies to their enterprizing or avaritious fpirit, 
 hither the Europeans, particularly the Eng- 
 lifh, French, and Dutch refort, to purchafe 
 ivory, gold duit, and wretched flaves, who 
 are torn from their deareft connections and 
 native land, to work in the plantations in 
 the Weft Indies. In Guinea, froft and 
 inow are unknown. Lilies, tulips, tube- 
 rofes, and hyacinths of exquifite fragrance 
 grow wild in the woods ; but it is dangerous 
 to fearch for them, as thefe woods are in* 
 felted by lions, tigers, leopards, and makes. 
 
 K. How happy are we who live in Eng- 
 land,, where we arc neither expofed to the 
 fcorching heat of Guinea, nor the piercing 
 cold of Kamtfchatka. 
 
 C Our climate is remarkable for its 
 
 agreeable
 
 GEOGRAPHY. 85 
 
 •tigreeable temperature. It has been juftly 
 obferved, that there are few days in the 
 year ib bad or inclement, that we cannot 
 continue in the open air for -feme hours at 
 leaft ? without inconvenience. "What though 
 Ceylon may boaft her groves of cinnamon, 
 though the trees of Arabia may diftil the 
 moil aromatic gums, and the orange ^rees 
 may bend with golden fruit upon the banks 
 of the Tagus, yet we are enabled to en- 
 joy all thefe productions by means of our 
 widely-extended commerce, without bein» 
 expofed to the inconveniences of the cli- 
 mates where they grow. And this leads 
 me to make what may be called the moral 
 or patriotic application of the ftudy of geo- 
 graphy more immediately to ourfelves ; for 
 the more we know of other countries, the 
 more we mall be induced to fet a proper 
 value upon our own. 
 
 When you read an account of rude and 
 uncivilifed nations, fuch as the Negroes and 
 Indians, who have the faces and forms of 
 fnc# united with much of the favage difpo- 
 
 fition
 
 S& GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 fition of the lions and tigers of their native 
 woods, you muft be fenfible of the advan- 
 tages you enjoy in a country, which is im- 
 proved by civilifation, and refined by the 
 elegant arts. 
 
 And when you are informed of the Chi- 
 nefe, a people both wife and ingenious, 
 yet iliperftitious, and given to idolatry; 
 or of the Turks, who follow the errors 
 of Mahomet their falfe Prophet, how happy 
 ought you to think yourfelf that you arc 
 a native of a country enlightened by di- 
 vine truth, and bleffed with the knowledge 
 of the chriftian religion. 
 
 E. As I have every reafon to love my 
 native country, I wilh to know more con- 
 cerning it; that is, to be acquainted with 
 its moft remarkable places, and whatever is 
 curious in them. I have heard you talk of 
 London, Manchefter, and Liverpool, and 
 other cities of great note, and of fome coun- 
 ties too in the eaftern parts of the kingdom, 
 where the furface of the ground is almoft as 
 level as our lakes, and where paftures and 
 
 corn-
 
 GEOGRAPHY- 87 
 
 cornfields are extended without a fmgle 
 mountain for many miles together. 
 
 C I iuppoie yon allude to Lincolnshire, 
 Norfolk, and Suffolk. Books of Geography 
 can give you ample information upon thefe 
 fubje&s in addition to what they can teach 
 vou relative to foreign countries. 
 
 E. With what pleafure mall I attend to 
 Geography in future, if you will be fo kind 
 as to continue to give me lefions ! I now 
 begin to fee my error ; that which I once 
 thought a dry ftudy, you have convinced me 
 is extremely pleafant and entertaining, 
 
 C. I am very glad I have brought you to 
 change your opinion, and make this confef- 
 iion. The mode we will in future adopt, 
 mall be fuch, as I am periuaded, wall in- 
 creafe your love of geography. As you are 
 fond of drawing, you may turn your pencil 
 to a good ufe; you m all fill up the outlines 
 of the elegant maps I have purchafed for 
 you : they are Pattefim* maps juft fent 
 me from London. This practice of copying 
 maps will render your ideas of the relative 
 
 fituatious
 
 88 GEOGRAPHY. 
 
 iituations and extent of countries much 
 clearer than mere defcriptions of them. As. 
 you are juftly fo fond of your native coun- 
 try, you ihall copy the map of Great Bri- 
 tain firft, then each quarter of the globe, 
 and then the complete map of the world. 
 
 In the intervals of this pleaiing exercifc 
 of your pencil, you fhail read the defcrip- 
 tions of the various manners and cultoms, 
 which mark the natives of different nations, 
 and here fecurely by our own fire fide ex- 
 tend your thoughts to the moft diftant parts 
 of the globe. 
 
 While fancy like the finger of a clock, 
 Runs the great circuit ; and is ftill at home. 
 
 Cowper* 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. IX, 
 
 THE BEAUTIES OF A FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 CONVERSATION V. 
 
 In a delightful morning, during the hotteft 
 part of the fummer, Emily and her father 
 walked early in the garden. The dew-drops 
 of night ftill hung glittering on every leaf 
 and bloflbm, the flowers perfumed the 
 air with their fragrance, and the birds 
 with various notes were faluting the re- 
 turn of day. They congratulated each other 
 on this early enjoyment of the beauties 
 around them, in which a few hours would 
 make a great alteration ; for they well 
 knew, that as foon as the fun was rifen 
 
 higher,
 
 90 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 higher, his potent influence would be felt by 
 the earth and its productions, the flowers 
 would begin to decline their heads, much of 
 their fweets would be exhaled, and inftead of 
 remaining in the open part of the garden, 
 where thefe early rifers were then walking, 
 they muft feek a refuge from the fervid rays 
 under the thick umbrage of the wood, or in 
 the cool retreat of the hermitage. 
 
 " Obferve, my dear," faid the Colonel to 
 Emily, " the beauties of nature difplayed 
 before you : I truft you do not merely throw 
 a tranfient glance upon them, but are inclined 
 to regard them with attention ; that while 
 the infpeciion and the perfume of flowers 
 regale your fenfes, the reflections they fug- 
 geit may improve your mind. 
 
 " What a fcene of fweet tranquillity is 
 opened by the view of a garden ! It is a re- 
 treat from the hurry of buiineis, and the cla- 
 mour of crowds ; the various and gay ob- 
 jects it prefents are calculated to ciifrufe a 
 ibft complacency over the mind, and to in- 
 
 lpirc
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 91 
 
 Spire it with cheerfulnefs. In a garden, fome 
 of the wifeft and belt of men have fought and 
 found the trueft enjoyment of themfeives, and 
 in Paradife, which means a garden, our firfl 
 parents, while pure and innocent, fhared 
 that delight, which made of earth a heaven." 
 
 " Your praife of a garden, cannot, I think," 
 faid Emily, " be better applied than to our 
 own at this feafon. The gardener has fol- 
 lowed your directions very exactly; we have 
 here every kind of flower the foil will admit; 
 growing in thefe borders, and in no fummer 
 did I ever fee them blooming in greater 
 beauty, or profufion. 
 
 C. One of the molt ftriking characfceriftics 
 of flowers is their variety. They mow the 
 hand of a confummate deligner, who requires 
 not to have recourle to the repetition of the 
 fame effort to prove his fkill. There is 
 divcrfity in them without confufion, and 
 elegance without famenefs : they difplay a 
 fertility of invention in their plan, and a deli- 
 racy of pencilling in their execution, wh'ch 
 inay excite wonder, but defy imitation. 
 
 E. The
 
 *)£ Tills FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 Ei The colours of flowers are as pleafing 
 to the eye as their variety ; how rich, how 
 lively they are ! 
 
 C. The colours of foine flowers are ftrong, 
 others are faint ; fome are fpotted, others are 
 ftriped, but whether their tints are blended 
 together, or are diftinct and contracted, they 
 are fo diftributed, as to delight the be- 
 holder. There is a ftile of colouring appa- 
 rent in them, which fhows the excellency of 
 Nature in thefe moft tender of her works. 
 In point of richnefs and livelinefs, thefe co- 
 lours can only be compared to the tranfient 
 tints given to the clouds by the morning and 
 evening fun, or the plumage which adorns 
 the peacock and the pheafant. What are 
 the fineft colours of the painter, what thofe 
 of the richer! Gobelin or Bruflels tapeftry, 
 compared to thofe of Nature ! Van Huy- 
 fum muft drop his pencil, and Mifs Linwood 
 her needle, and confefs the inability of art 
 to produce an adequate imitation of nature. 
 Place a flower by the fide of its moft admired 
 
 copy ?
 
 THE FLOWER GARDE*. 93 
 
 copy, and you will inftantly difcover the wide 
 difference between them. 
 
 Who can paint 
 
 Like Nature? Can Imagination boall 
 Amid its gay creation, hues like her's ? 
 Or can it mix them with that matchlefs (kill. 
 And lofe them in each other, as appears 
 lu every bud that blows ? 
 
 Obferve with particular attention the calyx 
 or cup, and the leaves on the ftalks of 
 flowers, and you will fee that they both con- 
 tribute to heighten the luftre of the gay 
 colours of the petals by a contraft with the 
 green; this effect would not be produced, 
 if the petals of flowers were green, as well 
 as the leaves, which I believe is very rarely 
 the cafe. 
 
 E. How delicious is the fragrance of 
 rofes, and yet how much it differs from that 
 of other flowers ? 
 
 C. The fweets exhaled from the rofe, the 
 violet, and the carnation, are common fub- 
 jects of praife. They are diftributed in fuch 
 
 nice 
 8
 
 94> THE FLOWER &ARDEX. 
 
 nice proportions as neither to tantalize the 
 fenfe by their fcantinefs, nor furfeit it by 
 their excefs. With refpect to the time, u hen 
 they are diffused in inch a manner as to be 
 moit gratifying, does not kind Nature feem, 
 as it were, to confnlt our convenience? If 
 you wiih to feek health in your early walk, 
 and inhale the balmy breezes of the morn, 
 then the rofe and the jefiamine emit their 
 choiceft fweets : if you enjoy the coolnefs of 
 the evening air, peculiar fragrance is then 
 breathed from the tuberofe, the jonquil, the 
 honeyfuckle,, the night flowering catch-fly, 
 fikne noBlflora, and the campion cuckow 
 flower, lychnis vefyertina. I introduce to 
 your notice thefe Latin names, as they are 
 ufed in botany, that you may early be ac- 
 cuftomed to them. 
 
 E. I fee a pleaiing variety in all the works 
 of nature with which I am acquainted : it 
 prevails in the different kinds of birds, 
 beafts, and fillies, and feems to extend to 
 flowers, 
 
 C. -It certainlv docs ; it is obfervable in 
 6 their
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN", £>5 
 
 tfheir forms and figures ; each is of a fefe 
 beft adapted to the proportion of the re 
 fpective parts., from the towering fun-Mower 
 and hollyhock to the humble violet and 
 lily of the valley. Some flowers fwell into 
 a cup, others hang as a bell ; fome arc ex- 
 panded into a Mat furfaee, others are grouped 
 m a clufter. The Mowers placed upon dif- 
 ferent ftalks aMunie different attitudes ; no 
 two of them hang exactly in the fame posi- 
 tion, yet each is pendant with a grace pecu- 
 liar to itfelf, and you may trace the line of 
 beauty in them all. 
 
 E. I do riot think I fhould be fo highly 
 pleafed to fee all flowers blowing at the fame 
 time, as I am with their regular fucceffion. 
 
 C, Your remark relates to a fubjcc~t which 
 mows the wife economy of nature. Flower- 
 are adapted to the different feafons of the 
 year : they are not crowded around us in 
 laviih profufion all at once, but many dif- 
 ferent fpeeies follow each other, from the 
 earlieft dawn of fpring to the clofe of autumn. 
 
 The
 
 96 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 The fnow-drop, crocus, and aconite, lead 
 the train of Flora ; then the ftock-gilliflower, 
 hyacinth, fweet-pea, pink, auricula, ane- 
 mone, lily of the valley, carnation, tulip, 
 ranunculus, jonquil, and others fucceed. 
 Thefe bloom as the dimmer' advances, and 
 the beams of the fun give more lively and 
 varied colours. Autumn boafts her gay pro- 
 geny in fun-flowers, marigolds, tuberofes, 
 ftocks, and afters, and many others, which 
 feem reluctantly to furrender their fading 
 petals to the chilling blafts and frolts of 
 the declining year. Who does not pluck 
 thefe fucceffive flowers with delight? What 
 poet from Homer to Darwin has not fung 
 their praife with tranfport, and the pleafure 
 which the poet takes in defcribing them, 
 can only yield to that which animates 
 Lis fong, when he celebrates the fair who 
 adorns herfelf with them. 
 
 E. Do you think that all perfons take as 
 much pleafure in flowers as we do ? 
 
 C. As time purfues its courfe, the faihions 
 
 of
 
 THE FLOWER GAHDEX. §7 
 
 of mankind vary, and in all human inven- 
 tions not only novelty but caprice is found 
 to prevail. That this is not the cafe with 
 refpecl to the productions of nature may be 
 proved by the continual fondnefs for flowers 
 in every age and country. It pervades all 
 ranks, from the lady of falhion, adorned with 
 the coftly bouquet at Chriltmas, to the cot- 
 tage children, who unbidden rove the woods 
 and meadows to gather the primrofes and 
 violets of the fpring. 
 
 E. If I cannot fee flowers growing iti 
 the garden, I have no fmall pleafure in fee- 
 ing good imitations of them in cut paper, 
 drawings, or paintings. 
 
 C. This is very natural, for of fuch objects 
 every tolerable refemblance affords pleafure. 
 We fee them reprefented by the architect 
 upon the capitals, cornices, and frieze of 
 buildings : the carver imitates them in the 
 lighter ornaments of wood, where the deli- 
 cacy of their forms makes amends, in fome 
 degree, for the want of fuitable qolours. 
 Flowers too give beauty to embroidery, and 
 
 voi. i, k the
 
 OS THE FLOWER GARDEN* 
 
 the light drapery of the fair borrows ele- 
 gance from a ^prig of jeflamine, or a wreath? 
 of myrtle. And to prove your fondnefs for 
 imitating flowers, I remember how delighted 
 you were when I firft gave you a pencil and 
 colours to draw and paint them. 
 
 E. Of what particular fubfiances arc 
 flowers made? 
 
 C. This is a queftion, like many others 
 that relate to the works of Nature, not eafily 
 anfwered. I had once fome conversation 1 
 with a chemift upon the fubje6i. He told 
 me they all confifted of the fame common 
 principles, that is, calcareous earth, oil, wa-. 
 ter, and air, with a quantity of iron, to which 
 they owe their colours. But he could not in- 
 form me how the difference between flowers 
 was produced ; this was a fecret of Nature 
 m unknown to him as to me. He could not 
 initrucT; me in what manner, or in what pro- 
 portions the earth, air, dews, rains, and the 
 fun contribute to the formation of vegetables, 
 and afliit their progrefs to maturity. We fee 
 effeSlS) my Emily, but we muft be content to 
 
 remain 
 
 6
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 9$ 
 
 remain ignorant of caufes, and the fcientific 
 botanift, who can refer every plant to its 
 proper clafs, as well as the illiterate gardener 
 who rears it, muft be equally loft in admira- 
 tion of the myfterious works of God. 
 
 Ek I obferve a number of double flowers 
 in the garden : are there none growing wild 
 in the fields? 
 
 C. They are only the produce of the rich 
 foil of gardens : they become double by change 
 of nourifhment, and are confidered merely as 
 the fports of nature. 
 
 E. I am at a lofs to exprefs to you what 
 difappointment I felt yefterday morning: I 
 came here intending to pluck a full-blown 
 rofe, and I found half its petals had fallen 
 to the ground. . 
 
 C, This difappointment fuggefts to me a 
 reflection, which throws a gloom over the gay 
 profpect of the flower-garden. Beautiful as 
 are the colours of flowers, and delicious as 
 are their perfumes, how traniient is their 
 exiftence, meafured fometimes by a few days, 
 ©r weeks at moft. Revifit our borders, now
 
 ]00 TflL FLOWER, GARDEN. 
 
 fo gay with newly-blown flowers, a little time 
 hence ; and you will feek for them too late. 
 Nor is their mortality the effect of rude 
 blafts, or of winter, but their fixed period 
 comes, and the pride of the garden is no 
 more. 
 
 Thus does the lark foar on high to falute 
 the fun with her early long ; and thus the 
 nightingale, concealed in (hades, thrills her 
 note through the grove: when their appointed 
 feafon is once paffed, mute is the melody of 
 the feathered race, and mixed with the dult 
 of the earth are the fhort-lived flowers. 
 
 r. 
 
 Sweet blaming Rofe, I mourn'd for thee, 
 Once pendent from the mofiy thorn, 
 To think how brief thy deftiny, 
 How fuon thy fading flowers were gone ! 
 
 it. 
 
 Emblem of Beauty's trannent bloom, 
 That grae'd my Anna good as fair; 
 i cave her to the lilent tomb, 
 And wilh'd that lilcnt tomb to mare. 
 
 in.. Forgetful,
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN'. 101 
 
 lit. 
 
 Forgetful, that the lovelieft forms, 
 Like rainbow colours of the fky, 
 Bright harbingers of vernal ftorms. 
 Shine but to be admir'd, and die. 
 
 1Y. 
 
 Forgetful, that the fovereign Lord, 
 Who lent her fweets to us below, 
 "Will wake her with his potent word, ; 
 
 And youth unfading will bellow, 
 
 v. 
 
 On feraphs* wings fhe will arife, 
 To join her kindred choir above; 
 Will bloom an Angel in the flries, 
 Blefs'd with her Saviour's endlefs love. 
 
 The Colonel repeated thefe lines in a 
 mournful tone, which brought the tears of for- 
 rowful affection into the eyes of Emily, at 
 the remembrance of her mother — the fubject 
 of the plaintive and pious ftrains. After a 
 mort paufe, ihe relumed the conveffation, 
 wiihing to check her father's purfuit of a 
 fubjecT; fo dear, yet fo painful to her own 
 heart as well as to his.
 
 202 THE FLOWER GARDEN*. 
 
 E. I obferve the feeds and roots of flowers 
 are brought from one garden to another : 
 where are they to be found growing wild, 
 and in a perfectly natural ftate ? 
 
 C. Flowers are the offspring of various 
 foils and climates, and moft of them were 
 brought from foreign countries, and natu- 
 raiifed in England. The auricula is, I be- 
 lieve, a native of -Egypt, the pink and the 
 carnation were brought from Italy, the lily 
 from Syria; and your favourite, the common 
 jeffamine, that climbs up to your chamber 
 window, from the Eaft Indies. For fome 
 of the moft elegant fpecies of rofes we are 
 indebted to France, North America, the 
 Levant, and China. None of the tulips, 
 and only a few fpeqies of the anemone, are 
 natives of this ifland. Many of the ftocts 
 are foreigners, fo are all the paiiion flowers, 
 and many of the violets. The only fpecies 
 of Digitalis, or Fox glove, which is not an 
 exotic, is the purpurea ; this in the months 
 of June and July is a great ornament; to our 
 road-fides and hedges. The -daily, be His pe- 
 
 rennis i
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 103 
 
 rcnnis, the dog rofe, to fa can'ma, and the 
 honeyfuckle, lonicera caprjfoUum, the water 
 lily, nympkaa alba, which opens in the morn- 
 ing and clofes in the evening, are natives of 
 England, and are fome of the moft beauti- 
 ful of our wild flowers. 
 
 The poet Cowper obferves in a line, 
 which, though profaic, conveys a very jult 
 remark 
 
 " Who loves a garden, loves a green-houfe too. 
 
 And this elegant appendage to a garden owes 
 much of its beauty to the aloe, the myrtle, 
 the cereus, the mefymbrianthemum, and the 
 geranium, which are natives of warmer cli- 
 mates. Of the numerous ericai, or heaths, 
 which faihion has lately introduced into 
 green-houfes, I believe not more than four 
 are to be found upon our mountains. 
 
 E. What is the particular ufe of flowers ? 
 
 C. To infpire us with cheerfulnefs, to 
 pleafe our fight and fmell, and more efpecially 
 to excite our gratitude to the benevolent 
 Giver of all things. Duly impreffed by fuch 
 
 a fen-
 
 104 THE FLOWER GARDEN. 
 
 s 
 
 a fentiment, we mall not merely throw a 
 fuperficial glance upon the objects that fur- 
 round us, but mail derive fome ufeful in~ 
 ftru&ion from almoft every walk we take ; 
 even a daify or a cowflip will teach us a mo* 
 ral lefTon * 
 
 This our life exempt from public haunt 
 
 Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks, 
 
 Sermons in {tones, and good in every thing. 
 
 If the great and wife Creator has fo regarded 
 the lily of the field, that even Solomon, the 
 moft powerful king of Ifrael, when appear- 
 ing in his robes of ftate, was not fo ele- 
 gantly dreffed ; how much more, as we are 
 amired by our bleffed Saviour himfelf, will 
 his providential care be extended to us, if 
 we ftudy to obey his commands ? 
 
 Thefe remarks I hope will rather excite 
 than fatisfy your curiofity, as I wjfh you not 
 to reft contented with a little knowledge as 
 a florift, but to afpire to the more extenfive 
 and fcientific information of a botanift» 
 You are, I hope, eager to pafs beyond the 
 
 bounds
 
 THE FLOWER GARDEV. 105 
 
 bounds of the garden, to wander in the more 
 fpacious and luxuriantly wild garden of Na- 
 ture : of this pleafure I promife you the full 
 enjoyment : we will range the woods, de- 
 scend into the vales, and climb the moun- 
 tains together, and I mall be happy to mow 
 you with what care Nature adapts her pro- 
 duce to various foils, and how liberal Ihe 
 is in beftowing upon this our native county 
 of Cumberland many fpecies of plants not to 
 be found in the more fouthern parts of the 
 kingdom, 
 
 CHAR
 
 CHAP. X, 
 
 Mark the pious prieit, 
 
 Content he treads the path of humble life, 
 And like the glorious Mufter whom he ferves, • 
 At once fupplies the leffbn, and example : 
 Each word is mildnefs, and each action love ; 
 He forms a train of followers like himfelf, 
 I To ftrive for crowns immortal. A. 
 
 What is truly ufeful and excellent is al- 
 ways prized in proportion to its rarity, and 
 the difficulty of procuring it. To know the 
 juft value of good neighbours, a perfon muft 
 refide in a retired place where few are to be 
 found within the compafs of feveral miles. 
 Colonel Lorton was fortunate in having one 
 neighbour whofe excellence made him ample 
 amends for the want of more — this was the 
 Reverend Doctor Harriot, the curate of the 
 pariih* 
 
 Doctor
 
 EMILY. 107 
 
 Doctor Afar riot had been brought up in 
 the fevere and hardy fchool of indigence; 
 and although he had been compelled to 
 fubinit to many privations of eafe and 
 luxury, he had formed habits moft ufeful in 
 life — thole of diligence and economy. He 
 was enabled by the kindnefs of fome friends 
 to finiih his education at the univerfity, and 
 to obtain holy orders. He married without 
 any profpecl of an income beyond the cu- 
 racy of the pariih where he refided, and a 
 fcanty falary arifing from one of thofe fmall 
 endowed fchools common in the North of 
 England, to which the village children are 
 fent for gratuitous education. He was gentle 
 in manners, his eyes beamed with good-na- 
 ture, and his heart expanded with charity. 
 No fports of the field, or amufements^ at 
 home, ever interrupted the difcharge .of his 
 duties ; he inftru&ed the young, and he 
 cheered the old ; he reconciled thofe who 
 were at variance ; he -was the comforter of 
 the fick, and the friend of the poor. Such 
 conduct endeared him to all who knew 
 
 him.
 
 ]6S EMILY. 
 
 him. As he walked through the village he 
 was often greeted with the bleffings, and al- 
 ways with the grateful falutations of all he 
 met. 
 
 His ferrnons were directed to the nioft 
 ufeful topics of practical religion; they 
 were exprefled in very plain yet nervous 
 language, and brought home to the feelings 
 of his attentive audience by a peculiar ear- 
 neftnefs of manner. Colonel Lorton, who 
 was his conftant hearer, failed not to de- 
 rive both from his difcourfes and conven- 
 tions, many ufeful hints for the inftru&ion 
 of his daughter, of which evident traces are 
 to be found, in the courfe of this work, par- 
 ticularly in his Converfations and Letters to 
 her upon fubje&s of religion. 
 
 Doctor Marriot loved folitude, and his fa- 
 vourite fcene of contemplation, whenever he 
 had leifure, was within his church. There 
 he fometimes walked till the fnades of even- 
 ing clofed in darknefs : he paced flowly up 
 and down the facred place, while the filence 
 that reigned around, was interrupted only 
 
 by
 
 EMILY. 109 
 
 by the clock ftriking the hour with folemn 
 founds, and reminding hiin that it was time 
 to depart. 
 
 His fondneis for fuch retirement may be 
 imputed to a romantic, but it was not ow- 
 ing to a melancholy turn of mind. It gave 
 him lingular pleaiure to feclude himfelf where, 
 without interruption, lie could purfue the 
 courfe of his own ideas : he was capable in 
 an extraordinary degree of mental exertion 
 and mental abstraction ; yet his meditations 
 were not more fublime than edifying, for 
 he was fond of louring from reflections on 
 the vanity of ail human affairs, and the un- 
 certainty of human life, — topics fuggefted by 
 the repertories of death around him, to 
 the thoughts of immortality, and the happi- 
 nefs of heaven. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP XL 
 
 Jlls years but young, but his experience old | 
 His head unmeilow'd, but his judgment ripe 3 
 And in a word, far far behind his worth, 
 Come all the praifes that I now bcftow. 
 lie is complete in feature and in mind, 
 With all good grace to grace a gentleman.. 
 
 Shakespeare, 
 
 fciD^ARD was the only child of Doctor and 
 Mrs. Marriot, who brought him up tenderly^ 
 yet without any improper indulgence, He 
 was handfome in perfori, and engaging in his 
 manners ; he poffelTed a lively fancy, and a 
 correct judgment, which if they did not con- 
 ftitute genius, at leaft marked an intellect of 
 no common order. His mind was well cul- 
 tivated by his father, who inftructed him in 
 the principles of antient learning and fci- 
 ence. His temper was mild like that of his 
 father, but his difpofition was far more en- 
 
 . terprizing.
 
 EM1LYV 1 1 1 
 
 Serprizing. Fond as he was of all rural 
 fports, he never allowed them to interrupt 
 the courfe of his ftudies. Where the river, 
 foamed and forced its way over the broker* 
 fragments of rocks, or formed a deep and 
 filent abyfs were his ftations for fiihing,' 
 often regardleis of the heavy rains ; and he 
 roamed over the mountains, and through the 
 vallies heedlefs of danger or diftance, irr 
 quell of game. So keen and expert a fportf- 
 man did he become, that he caught many of 
 the fineft fiihes of the lakes and rivers, and 
 few birds at which he difcharged his gun, 
 could efcape his fteady aim. 
 
 It was the great object of Doctor Mar- 
 riot's endeavours to «;ive his fon fuch an 
 education as to qualify him for the profef- 
 fion of a clergyman, and he pra&ifed the 
 moft rigid economy in his own family, ir* 
 order to afford him the advantage of com- 
 pleting his ftudies in the univerfity. Dur- 
 ing Edwards refidence in college, his frank 
 and fociable diipofition gained him admif- 
 fion into good company, and (hunning as 
 
 much
 
 fl-8 EMILY. 
 
 much from inclination as motives of pru- 
 dence, thofe intemperate parties which af- 
 fuming the maik of pleafure, ultimately ex- 
 pofe thoughtlefs youths to punifhment and 
 diftrefs, he fought for rational and improv- 
 ing fociety. To his feniors he was refpecl- 
 ful and attentive, and among his compa- 
 nions a prime favourite, for no one was 
 more cheerful or inoffenfive ; no one could 
 ling a better fong, or tell a more pleafant 
 itory. 
 
 Of all his ftudies the moft attractive was 
 hiftory. The works of the beft Greek and 
 Roman writers, in which are defcribed the 
 memorable actions of the heroes of antiquity, 
 he read with great attention. But that 
 branch of biography was his moft favourite 
 purfuit, which related to the illuftrious cha- 
 racters of our own country. 
 
 Great was the admiration of the conduct 
 of Sir Philip Sid?iey, in the clofing fcene of 
 life, when fainting and thirfty, he offered 
 the cup of water brought for himfelf to the 
 dying foldier. He lamented the untimely 
 
 fell 
 6
 
 tUltti 113 
 
 fall of the gallant JFolfe, (lain in the mo- 
 ment of victory j and he mourned the lofs of 
 the humane and adventurous Howard, who 
 after traverfing many diftant parts of the 
 globe to alleviate the fulferings of prifoners, 
 fell a facrifice to his ardent philanthropy. 
 In every llich biographic fcene, fired with 
 the greateft ardour of youth, he fancied him- 
 felf an actor, and thought the glory of a true 
 heroe cheaply purchafed at the expenfe of 
 toil and danger, and even of life itfelf. He 
 became impatient to mix in the bufy world, 
 that he might imitate thofe illuftrious ex- 
 amples of virtue, he was ever ready to ap- 
 plaud and admire. That thefe fair blofibms 
 of his education were matured into the fruits 
 of excellence, the fubfequent actions of his 
 life will fufficiently prove. 
 
 vol. i, i CHAP.
 
 CHAP. XII. 
 
 Mcthinks I feel my heart on fire, 
 
 My breaft is adamant, my thoughts have wings 
 To bear me to yon azure iields of hcav'n : 
 Can I not feek the eagle in his eyry, 
 Perch'd on the fummit of Killarncy's craggs ; 
 Or led by pity break the captive's chain, 
 Who many a year has figh'd for native home, 
 That mock'd his dreams? Such is the wiih of youth. 
 Whofe fancy roams through the wide field of ai:tion, 
 And like the generous courfer fcorns all bounds. 
 That flop his fwift direer. • ■ A. 
 
 i he following occurrence which afforded to 
 Edward Harriot an opportunity of beginning 
 his courfe of intrepidity and ufeful exertion, 
 gave a peculiar turn to his mind, and had 
 no iinall influence on his happinefs. 
 
 Tiiere was, according to annual euftom, 
 
 a rigatta and boat race upon Kefwick Lake. 
 
 It was attended by a great concourfe of 
 
 6 fpeclators,
 
 EMILY* 115 
 
 fpe&ators, and among thje company who re* 
 forted thither, were the Lorton and Marriot. 
 families. At the fignal given by firing a 
 gun, a number of boats ftarted from the 
 ihore to rqw around Pocklington 111 and for 
 the prize. The numerous veilels of different 
 fizes dreffed up with coloured ftreamers and 
 flags, and rilled with ladies and gentlemen, 
 variegated the furface of the lake, and the 
 da filing of the oars, and the merriment of 
 the company reibunded on all fides. Emily 
 Lorton was with a party in one boat, and 
 Edward Harriot not far diftant in another. 
 
 In the afternoon, the weather became un- 
 favourable, the fun was obfcured, the clerk 
 clouds arofe in threatening array from £or- 
 rowdale, tlie wind founded hollow, the 
 mountains were concealed in thick mifts, 
 and the fcream of the water fowls, the cer- 
 tain indication of an approaching ftorm, was 
 heard, as they palled over in rapid flight 
 The lake began to rife in large waves, and 
 fuelled in violent agitation : the flames of 
 listening were vivid, and the thunder rolled 
 
 i 2 in
 
 116* KMII/Y. 
 
 in lengthened peals, diftinctly re-echoed 
 feveral times by the mountains, after inter- 
 vals of awful filence. 
 
 By fome unikilfulnefs, or hurry in the 
 management of the boat, in which Emily 
 was, one fide was expofed to the waves, the 
 water rullied in full ilow, and the boat was 
 upfet. Emily, the only lady on that fide 
 the boat, gave a loud feream as me fell ; her 
 terrified companions were wholly occupied in 
 proyiding for their own fafety, and waded 
 to the land without regarding the finking 
 fair one. But her cries were not uttered in 
 Vain ; they inftantly drew the attention of 
 young Harriot to her : he fprang from his 
 boat into the lake, feized the fainting Emily, 
 and with fome flight amftance from his 
 party, conveyed her to a houfe near the 
 iliore. 
 
 Her spirits were violently agitated by this 
 accident, and fhe was for a fhort time indif- 
 pofed. Her thanks to Providence for her 
 efcape were ardent, and often repeated, and 
 when ftie thought of her youthful preferver, 
 
 there
 
 EMILY* 117 
 
 there was a fentiment which mingled with 
 the recollection of his promptitude, courage, 
 and humanity ; fay ye fagacious Cafuifts, — 
 ought it to be called eiteem, gratitude, or 
 friendfliip ; or can it be beft expreffed by 
 the moft tender and endearing of all appel- 
 lations ? 
 
 Nor was young Marriot lefs affected by 
 what had happened. He had always re- 
 garded Mifs Lorton with admiration ; but 
 on account of the wide difference of their 
 iituations; himfelf the fon of an obfcure 
 clergyman, without fortune or preferment ; 
 - — fhe the only h d and heirefs of a diftin- 
 guiihed officer who prided himfelf upon the 
 antiquity, as well as the property of his 
 family ; and more than all thefe confidera- 
 tions, when he thought of her perfonal 
 charms and excellent qualities of mind, he 
 regarded her rather as an angel, than a mor- 
 tal, moving in a fphere far above fuch as he 
 could ever afpire to. 
 
 From this time he was requefted with 
 particular earneftnefs by Colonel Lorton to 
 
 be
 
 118 
 
 EMILV. 
 
 be a frequent vifitor at his houfe ; and this fett- 
 cumftance, as it gave him opportunities of 
 converting with Emily, inereafed the riling 
 flame Of his attachment When ihe thanked 
 him for having prefer vecl her life, the 
 tone of her voice, her grateful manner, and 
 her expreflive eyes gliitening with tears, 
 fo fully convinced him of her fenfibility, that 
 he thought himfelf fure of her pity, however 
 he might fail of her love. He encouraged 
 the paiiion, which he dared not to avow ; 
 unceafmgly he nourilhed it with the molt 
 tender thoughts; and indulged his fancy with 
 the fweet illulions natural to a iirft attach- 
 ment. To enjoy the focicty of Emily, to fee 
 her fmile, to hear her converfe, feemed to 
 him the only objects that made his life pre- 
 cious. When abfent from Lorton Vale, ho 
 coniidered himfelf as banilhed from the Gar- 
 den of Eden ; the lovely form of Emily was 
 ever prefent to his mind, and no company, 
 however lively or gay, equalled in bis opi- 
 nion, the luxury of finding out fome folitary 
 place;— -the fhade cf a wood, or rhe banks of 
 
 a mur-
 
 EMILY. 119 
 
 a murmuring rivulet, and there meditating 
 on her charms. 
 
 He often wifhed himfelf a monarch, that 
 he might have the merit of offering himfelf, 
 and every appendage of royalty to her ac- 
 ceptance : yet fo humble did he think his 
 aclual condition, and fo trivial his preten- 
 iions to her favour, that he had not the 
 flighteft hope of being entitled to any higher 
 privilege than a mare of thofe fmiles of affa- 
 bility, and expreffions of benevolence, which 
 fhe beftowed with native goodnefs on all 
 around her. 
 
 The families exchanged feveral vifits, in 
 the courfe of which the voung friends 
 amufed themfelves and the company, with 
 little concerts. Emily had an excellent ear 
 for mufic, and touched the piano-forte 
 with neatnefs and delicacy of execution ; her 
 voice gave the fineft expreffion to every 
 note of the compofer, and was peculiarly 
 fuited for rapturous piety, and tender fenti- 
 ment : her execution of an air of Handel or 
 a Scotch long could hardly be furpaffed. 
 
 Edward
 
 120 E5IILY. 
 
 Edward played on the flute and clarinet, 
 and although he was a felf-taught muiician, 
 he managed thefe inftruments with tafte and 
 fkill, It was however remarked by the Co- 
 lonel, that the young friends when playing 
 together, feldom kept good time ; the truth 
 was, they were thinking too much of each 
 .other to do juftice to their mufic, 
 
 A walk in the garden led Edward and 
 Emily to make fome remarks on the flowers 
 then blooming, in the pride of June, " Of 
 all flowers," (aid Emily, as Edward plucked 
 and prefented to her a half-blown rofe, " this 
 I moil admire ; its petals are fo finely 
 formed, its colours are fo clear, and tender, 
 and its fragrance fo delicate, I believe it has 
 always been the favourite among all nations, 
 and is carefully reared in almoft all climates. 
 Does not the lover think he pays his mif- 
 trefs the higheit compliment by comparing her 
 to the rofe ; and does not the poet difplay 
 his fancy to the greateft advantage, in fmging 
 its praife ?° 
 
 " You have good rcafons for your par^ 
 
 tiality/'
 
 EMILY. 121 
 
 tiality," replied Edward ; " yet allow me to 
 iky, I think the violet has nearly equal pre- 
 tentions to your regard. The rofe, it is true, 
 glows with the bluili of beauty, but does not 
 the violet refemble the azure of the iky? 
 Suppofe I had a violet in my hand, and 
 the pretty flower had the gift of fpeech, 
 and could make vou the following- addrefe, 
 I hope you would not be difpleafed at its 
 requeft, nor with my changing the language 
 in which it is conveyed ; as I muft confefs, 
 that for the original thought I am indebted 
 to a French poet." 
 
 THE PETITION OF THE VIOLET. 
 I. 
 
 Beneath the friendly hawthorn's fpray, 
 
 A native of the lowly vale, 
 I bafhful ihun the eye of day, 
 
 And with my breath perfume the gale. 
 
 ii. 
 
 When vernal zephyrs foftly rife, 
 
 As you fair maid unconfeious tread, 
 
 My sweets your raptur'd fenfe furprizc, 
 And veiled in leaves betray my head. 
 
 III. Like
 
 }22 JEMTLY. 
 
 ill. 
 
 Like ymj in modeft garb attir'd, 
 A foe to fhow, and gay parade, 
 
 Lefs feen, by all the more admir'd, 
 J flourifh in the rural made. 
 
 IV. 
 
 O place me on thy fnowy breaft, 
 Exalted to that throne of love, 
 
 The humble violet, fo ble&'d, 
 
 The proudeft of the flowers will prove-. 
 
 chap.
 
 CHAP. XIII. 
 
 Sometimes the pencil in cool airy halls 
 Bade the gay bloom of vernal landfcapes rife, 
 Or autumn's varied (hades imbrown the walls; 
 Xow the black tempeft itrikes the aftonifli'd eyes, 
 Now down the fteep the flaihing torrent flies ; 
 The trembling fun now plays o'er ocean blue, 
 And now rude mountains frown amid the fkies ; 
 Whatever Lorraine light touch'd with foftening hand, 
 Or favage Rofa daih'd, or learned Pouffin drew. 
 
 Thomson's Caftle of Indolence. 
 
 IIdward was fond of drawing, and his 
 natural genius for that elegant art had been 
 improved by the leflbns of an able teacher. 
 He traced his outlines with a very cor reel 
 hand, meafured his diltances with an accu- 
 rate eye, took his views with rapidity and 
 exaclnefs, and his pencil was frequently 
 employed to delineate the objects of his na- 
 tive fcenery. 
 
 Emily
 
 124 EMILY. 
 
 Emily was delighted with his (ketches, 
 her attention to them was the fource of new 
 pleafure, for it gave her a more diftincl idea 
 of the beauties of nature that iurrounded 
 her dwelling, and adorned the romantic 
 country, in which it was fituated. It may 
 be readily imagined, that ihe did not copy 
 any other drawings with equal fatisfa&ion. 
 
 When Emily mowed her copies to Ed- 
 ward, he was careful to point out their de- 
 fects, as well as beauties ; and me was bet- 
 ter fatisfied with his franknefs, than me 
 would have been with his flattery : becaufe 
 {he was anxious for improvement. He in- 
 deed who could recommend his criticifms 
 by a peculiar fweetnefs of manner, needed 
 not flatter in order to pleafe. As fhe took 
 great pains to excel, Ihe foon made an ex- 
 traordinary progress, and was delighted with 
 his praife, as fhe grew more and more con- 
 fcious of delervin^ it. 
 
 " How amufing," faid Emily to Edward, 
 " is the art of drawing ! I think I perceive 
 in it peculiar advantages over other accom- 
 plishments :
 
 EMILY. 125 
 
 plimments : they require many aids, while 
 this wants very few. Society is indifpenfa- 
 bly neceffary for dancing. With regard to 
 muiic, in order to play a tune, I muft have 
 my forte-piano ; but for drawing, I require 
 only a pencil, and a iheet of paper, which 
 are cheaply purchafed, eafdy procured, and 
 are eafdy portable, wherever I may go. 
 
 " Surely I have reafon to congratulate 
 myfelf on my fituation, being fo favourable 
 to my improvement in drawing, as every 
 walk I take prefents me with the fineit fub- 
 je6ts for my pencil : nature in this our wild 
 and lovely country difplays all the pi£hi- 
 refque before me in the happieft variety of 
 mountains, rocks, lakes, and rapid rivers. 
 I have heard there are grander views in 
 Scotland, particularly in the neighbourhood 
 of Loch Lomond, but the profpects there 
 mult, I think, be too extenfive and vaft, 
 for an artift to be able to reprefent all their 
 features in any landfcape with effect" 
 
 " The propriety of your remark," faid 
 Edward, " is confirmed by travellers with 
 
 refpecl
 
 refpe6l both to Switzerland and Italy. They 
 fay nothing can exceed the grandeur of the 
 lakes of Laufanne and Geneva, the valley 
 of Chamouni, and the Glaciers towering 
 majeftically above them, and covered with 
 the collected fnows of centuries ; but for 
 icenery and profpects not boundlefs, but 
 limited ; not favage, but fweetly wild ; not 
 dim but dlftinet ; you muft proceed to the 
 olive-crowned hills and blooming vales of" 
 Italy, and vifit the cafcades, groves, and 
 ruins that adorn the claffical villages of 
 Tivoli, Albano, and Frefcati." 
 
 " Drawing," continued Emily, "furniflies. 
 me with the beft. notices of perfons and 
 places ; it is a good fubftitute for defcription, 
 and conveys more diftincl; ideas of vifible 
 objects. Even a few lines accurately traced 
 can convey a more exact notion of a per- 
 fon or a landfeape, than twice the number 
 of fentences written to defcribe them. Dane* 
 ing may be faid to exift only in motion, and 
 mufic in fleeting founds, but the productions 
 of my pencil are permanent ; finely if I may
 
 EMILY. 127 
 
 judge by its life and beauty, drawing mult be 
 an art of great antiquity/' " It is," laid Ed- 
 ward, " for we trace it in the hieroglyphics, 
 or facred characters of the ancient Egyptians; 
 and when the Spaniards difcovered Mexico, 
 the only mode which the ingenious people 
 of that country had to convey intelligence of 
 the arrival of the Spaniards, was to paint a 
 iliip, and the figures of the invaders, and 
 fend the picture to their emperor. 
 
 " No doubt you have heard, that among 
 the Greeks, it was fuppofed to derive its 
 origin from the molt tender of the pafilons 
 | — it is faid to have been invented by a 
 maid of Corinth." 
 
 " You allude to fome ftory I never 
 heard," faid Emily, " pray favour me with 
 a recital of it" 
 
 " A beautiful maid, of Corinth," laid Ed- 
 ward, " I think her name was Dione, was 
 ftrongly attached to Polemon, an amiable 
 youth of the fame place. They had ex- 
 changed their mutual vows, and agreed to 
 vifit the temple of Hymen ; but it was ne« 
 
 ccflarv
 
 128 EMILY. 
 
 cefTary for the youth to take a journey to 
 a diftant country, previous to their mar- 
 riage. The enamoured nymph, the night 
 before his departure, entered his apartment, 
 and found him afleep : a lamp was burn- 
 ing on the table, and the made of his faee 
 appeared diftintfcly on the wall : this ihe re- 
 marked, and quick in invention, for how 
 ingenious is love ! me feized a piece of 
 charcoal, and traced his profile. It was a 
 rude and imperfect efiay, as you may fup- 
 pofe, but even the made of a perfon fo 
 beloved could not fail to give her pleafure, 
 whenever it was contemplated; and it foothed 
 her fancy during the heavy hours of abfence 
 with a memorial, that enlivened remem- 
 brance, and cherifhed her affection," 
 
 <c What a pleaiing ftory," faid Emily, 
 " and what an excellent fubjecl; for the 
 " pencil!" 
 
 " I have, "faid Edward, " an engraving that 
 reprefents the fubjecl; very pleafingly ; and it 
 is at your fervice to copy — with it I will fend 
 a companion, founded on a whim of my 
 
 own
 
 EMILY. 129 
 
 own : I have reprefented the Maid of Co- 
 rinth afleep, and her lover tracing he?' like- 
 nefs upon the wall.'' 
 
 " This idea/' {aid Emily, " however it 
 may offend againft hiftorical truth, has, I 
 think, greatly the advantage in point of de- 
 licacy of defign, for which reafon I had ra- 
 ther copy your improvement, than the ori- 
 ginal." 
 
 Edward's drawing was done in crayons, 
 a kind of colouring which gives the imita- 
 tion of the bloom of flefh colour in the fofteit 
 and moft natural manner. Emily saw or 
 fancied Hie faw in his Maid of Corinth a re- 
 femblance of herfelf. She did not venture 
 to aik him the queftion; but fhe certainly 
 was not wrong iri her conjecture. She made 
 an accurate copy of his drawing : he pro- 
 pofed an exchange, to which lhe readily 
 acceded ; and it is only in the power of per- 
 fons in their fituations, and influenced by 
 their feelings, to eftimate the value of fuch 
 prefents. 
 
 vol. i. K CHAR
 
 CHAP. XIV. 
 
 'THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN, 
 
 CONVERSATION VI. 
 
 As Colonel Lortons health had fuffered by 
 his frequent expoiure to the chilling blaits of 
 the northern lprings and winters, during his 
 clofe attention to his agricultural concerns, 
 he was advifed to try the effects of lea-bath- 
 ing, and to drink mineral water at the foun- 
 tain-head. This double benefit could be 
 afforded to him at Scarborough, whither he 
 refolved to- go, and to take Emily with 
 him. 
 
 They purfued their journey without delay, 
 till they reached the antient city of York, 
 and there the minfter, the moft fublime and 
 venerable monument of Gothic architecture 
 in the world occupied much of their atten- 
 tion. 
 
 ?■ They
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 131 
 
 They entered the church while the fer- 
 vice was performing : on approaching the 
 choir, they heard the collect, beginning with 
 the words " Lord of all Power and Might," 
 fung as an anthem* It was fet to mufic by 
 the poet Mafon, formerly Precentor of York, 
 in a ftile that does honour to his genius. 
 The organ accompanied the fweet voices of 
 the chorifters in the moft harmonious man- 
 ner. Such facred mufic as Emily had never 
 heard before, added to the grandeur and 
 the folemnity of all the furrounding objects, 
 filled her mind with wonder and delight. 
 She was indeed enraptured ; her fancy was 
 raised to the moft fublime contemplations, 
 and ihe thought fhe was liftening to more 
 than mortal founds, in an edifice raifed by 
 more than mortal hands. 
 
 She prevailed upon her father to linger 
 with her in the church for fome time after 
 the fervice was ended, and as ihe was una- 
 ble to exprefs what ihe thought of the ge- 
 neral grandeur of the building, and the juft 
 proportions of the different parts, fhe was 
 
 k 3 delighted
 
 132 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAtf. 
 
 delighted with muling in lilent admiration- 
 Advancing with flow fteps, ilie gazed upon 
 the long-extended ailles, the lofty and maify 
 pillars, and the richly painted windows, 
 which admit fufficient light to make the 
 choir, the tranfepts, and the nave diftinetly 
 vifible, and yet exclude the glare of day. 
 When her father conducted her back to the 
 inn, Emily complained, that her pleafure 
 had been too fhort, and ilie cxpreflcd a willi 
 to return to hear the fervice the next morn- 
 ing ; but the indifferent ft ate of her father's 
 health, made it neceflary to proceed on their 
 journey without delay. 
 
 The lea-port town of Scarborough which 
 they foon after reached, is iituated in the 
 North Riding of Yorklliire, near a fine bay, 
 from which it rifes in the form of a cref- 
 cent : a fteep rock fheltering the town from 
 the north, and the ruins of a caftle crown- 
 ing its fumrnit, have a bold and picturefque 
 appearance. 
 
 As the Colonel's indifpofition was not of 
 fo ferious a nature as to require confine- 
 ment,
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAX. 133 
 
 incnt, he and his daughter fometimes mixed 
 in the cuftomary local amufements ; fuch as 
 attending the libraries, failing and fifh- 
 ing. Emily was much pleated with the 
 place, as it iurnifhed her with new fubje6ts 
 for her pencil, whether they walked upon 
 the wide extending fands, or took a view of 
 the town, and the furrounding objects from 
 the caftle rock. 
 
 " I faw," faid Emily, n the minfter at 
 York with wonder, but I think no object 
 can be fo grand and aftonifhing as the 
 fea." 
 
 " Thus," laid the Colonel, " you juftly 
 mark the fuperiority of nature to art." 
 
 " The profpect of the fea I am now en- 
 joying," f id I mily," attracts my eyes, more 
 than any thing I ever faw before, whether 
 I watch the courfe of its rolling waves 
 breaking in hoarfe murmurs on the more, 
 or extend my view along its diftant floods 
 till they feemed mixed, and loft in the 
 clouds." 
 
 Colonel
 
 134 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. . 
 
 Colonel Lorton. The ocean is the centre 
 to which all the great rivers of the world 
 direct their courfe ; but although they flow 
 into it, as into a grand refervoir, yet its 
 quantity of waters is not perceptibly in- 
 creafed. 
 
 All great rivers then flow into 
 the fea, as fome of the fmalier do into our 
 lakes. But what is Ullfwater, the largeft 
 of our lakes, compared to the ocean ? Here 
 I can fee no bounds, no mores. The view 
 as far as I can judge, is truly fublime, but 
 what is the ufe of this vaft expanfe of 
 water ? 
 
 Colonel Lorton. The fea is calculated to 
 excite our admiration of the power and wifc 
 dom of the Almighty, and it affords fuch 
 productions as are of the greateft fervice 
 to mankind. Although it appears to op*, 
 pofe bounds to the adventurous fpirit of 
 man, he has contrived by his ingenuity in 
 conftru&ing vefTels, and his ikill in guiding 
 
 them,
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAX. 135 
 
 iliem, to render it a channel of communica- 
 tion with his fellow-creatures however dis- 
 tant ; our countrymen in particular not only 
 make the ocean the channel of their com- 
 merce, but the fcene of their naval triumphs 
 over all our enemies. 
 
 Emily. Obferve yonder fhip how faft it 
 fails ; not lon^ aa;o I faw the whole of it ; at 
 firlt its hull, then the lower parts of its 
 mafts difappeared, and now it is almoft all 
 out of fight, for I can only diftinguifh its 
 topfails. Thefe appearances are very fur- 
 prizing ; how are they to be accounted for ? 
 
 C\ They arife from the form of the fur- 
 face of the fea, which is nearly round. Thefe 
 appearances at fea will no longer furprize 
 you, if you recollect what you muft often 
 have obferved by land. Suppofe you were 
 not far from the top of a mountain, and law 
 a perfon upon the top going to the oppofite 
 lide ; in proportion as he moved from you, 
 you would fee leis and lefs of him, till at 
 laft he would appear to fmk entirely out of 
 your fight. The different appearances of the 
 
 lhip
 
 136 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 
 
 •fliip you have noticed, afford a proof that the 
 true figure of the globe is what the geogra- 
 phers call fphcroidical, or nearly round. 
 Another proof is, that the fea, when calm, 
 always appears to be bounded by fome por- 
 tion of a circle. 
 
 E. I think I have heard of perfons, who 
 have failed round the world. 
 
 C. Lord Anfon, Captain Cook, and many 
 others, have literally done fo. Had the fea 
 been one continued level furface, the longer 
 they had failed, the farther they would have 
 gone from home ; inftead of which, by con- 
 itantly fteering a ftrait courfe, they returned 
 to England from whence they firft fet out. 
 
 E. But how could they, or how can any 
 failors find their way acrofs the wide and 
 pathlefs fea to the rnoft diftant mores, parti- 
 cularly in the night, and in fogs? 
 
 C. They fteer a fhip in a certain courfe 
 according to the rules of navigation, and 
 they find the port to which they are bound 
 by the affiftance of the Mariners' Compafs, 
 E. What is the Mariners' Compafs ? 
 
 a it
 
 THE WONDERS OP TIIF. OCEAN. 137 
 
 C. It is a circular box, the infide of which 
 is marked at equal diitances with the points 
 of the compafs, that is, the four cardinal 
 points e w r x s, and the other intermediate di- 
 vifions, making 32 in all. In this box a 
 needle is nicely hung, fo as to turn upon 
 a centre, with the ilighteft impulfe. 
 
 E. What is the ufe of this needle ? 
 
 C. To mow the north and fouth points of 
 the compafs. A needle will acquire this 
 wonderful property by having been rubbed 
 with a magnet, or load-ftone. 
 
 E. What is a magnet ? 
 
 C. The natural magnet is a hard dark-co» 
 loured mineral fubftance, generally found 
 in iron mines. Every magnet and every 
 needle that is made an artificial magnet by 
 being rubbed with a natural one, has a north 
 end and a fouth end, called the north and 
 fouth poles. The failors by obferving the 
 needle in the compafs can always tell very 
 nearly which is the north, and which the 
 fouth point, and know what courfe to fteer. 
 
 E. Why is the water of the fea fait \ 
 
 a it
 
 158 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN". 
 
 C. It is probable that the Creator gave 
 the fea-water this faltnefs, not only to pre- 
 ferve it from corruption, but to enable it to 
 bear the greater burthens. Salt-water is 
 much heavier, and of courfe is more buoyant 
 than frefh. 
 
 Sea-water within the torrid zone, where 
 exceixive heat would fubject every thing to 
 putrefaction, is found to be falteft, but the 
 nearer you approach the cold climate of the 
 poles, the faltnefs is lefs perceptible. It is 
 however obferved, that faltnefs alone does^ 
 not prevent corruption, for ftagnant fait wa- 
 ter like frefh, foon grows putrid. This has 
 been proved by experiments made by Mr. 
 Boyle and other naturalifts. The motion of 
 the fea is therefore necelTary to prevent its 
 waters from becoming putrid. 
 
 E. I obferve the waves of the fea ad- 
 vance upon the fhore, and retire at different 
 times, not merely when they are driven by 
 the winds, but in calm weather ; — does this 
 motion depend upon any regular caufes? 
 
 C. The
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 139 
 
 C. The fea has a regular, uniform, and 
 periodical motion; this is caufed by the 
 tides. After a continual flux of about fix 
 hours it is flood tide, the fea feems then to 
 reft for a quarter of an hour, and then be- 
 gins to ebb or flow back again for about fix 
 hours, in which time by the water linking, 
 the rivers rem me their natural level, and 
 former courfe. 
 
 E. What is the caufe of the tides? 
 
 C, They are caufed by the attraction of 
 the fun, and more particularly of the moon ; 
 when the moon is neareft to the earth, or as 
 the aftronomers fay, in conjunction with it, 
 the tides rife the higheft, and when fhe is far- 
 theft off, or in oppofition to the earth, they 
 are the loweft. 
 
 E. What is a fpring tide ? 
 
 C. It happens by the fea being raifed in 
 certain places many feet above the nature 1 
 level, at the new and full moon, when the 
 fun and the moon are in conjunction, that is, 
 are neareft to each other. 
 
 E. What
 
 140 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 
 
 E. What is a neap tide, and when does 
 it happen ? 
 
 C. It a low tide, and it happens when 
 the moon is in her quarters, and of courie 
 in oppofition to the fun. Theie were the 
 laws impofed upon the ocean at the creation 
 of the world, and they have continued in 
 full and imdiminiihed force to the prefent 
 hour. 
 
 JJ. Are the tides the fame in all places ? 
 
 C No : they are influenced by the depth 
 or fhallownefs of the fea, or the obftructions 
 of ihoals or ftraits : the tide flows with mreat 
 ftrength in the Englifh channel, and the 
 German ocean ; but in the Mediterranean 
 and Black Sea, there are no apparent tides. 
 The higheft tide known in England is, I 
 believe, in the river Wye at Chepftow- 
 bridge, in Monmouthfhire, where the water 
 has been obferved to rife more than 50 
 feet. 
 
 jE. If the fea can rife fo hmh, does it not 
 fometimes gain upon the land ? 
 
 C. A ftruggle for empire is conftantly 
 
 kept
 
 THE "WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 141 
 
 kept up between the lea and the land, and 
 in ibme places the one not only gains, but 
 keeps what the other lofes. Dunvvich, a 
 town in the county of Suffolk, once three 
 miles from the lea is now nearly deltroyed 
 by its incroachments : of its eight ancient 
 churches, not one is left, and the beach di- 
 viding the church-yard of the largelt, has 
 expofed to view the graves of its ancient in- 
 habitants. An inundation which happened 
 in the reign of Henry I. is faid to have co- 
 vered the eftates of Earl Goodwin, now 
 known by that dangerous bank oppofite to 
 Ilamfgate, called the Goodwin Sands. The 
 town of Aigues Mortes, not far from Mont- 
 pellier in France, was a fea-port in the 
 reign of Louis I. but the fea has (ince re- 
 tired to the diftance of four miles. 
 
 E. At the beafts that move upon the 
 earth, or the birds that fly in the air, I am 
 not much furprized ; becaufe they live in the 
 fame element that man does, but the rimes 
 that live either in freih or fait water, ex- 
 cite
 
 142 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAST* 
 
 cite mv wonder, for how can thev breathe 
 in the water ? 
 
 C. The prefence of air is as nccefiary to 
 them as to any other animals, and that they 
 enjoy the full ufe of it, and mult neceflfarily 
 die if deprived of it, has been proved by 
 experiments. They breathe by means of 
 their gills, which fupply the place of lungs. 
 
 E. How can they move in the water? 
 
 C. The water to them is as the air is to 
 us, and very eaiily gives way to their mo- 
 tions. Their forms enable them to pafs 
 through the water with eafe and fwiftnefs. 
 We imitate their fhape in the conftruction 
 of boats and ihips, yet the courfe of a vef- 
 fel moved on by the brifkeft gale, is tardy 
 in the extreme compared to the velocity of 
 the finny race. The night of an arrow is 
 hardly more rapid than the motion of a 
 falmon. Every part of their bodies, par- 
 ticularly their fins, air bladders, and tails 
 affifl fifties in cutting their way through the 
 
 yielding fluid. 
 
 C We
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 14 
 
 v.» 
 
 C. We have often converted upon tlie 
 iiibjecl; of fwallows, and other birds of paf- 
 fage, but I do not remember we ever 
 talked of that equally curious part of na- 
 tural hiiiory, which relates to fillies of paf- 
 ias^e. 
 
 E. To wliat particular kinds do you al- 
 lude? 
 
 C The moft remarkable are the mack- 
 erel, the herring and the pilchard. They 
 arrive at ftated feaibns upon our coafts r 
 fometimes with mch punctuality, that they 
 have been obferved to return in fucceeding 
 years in the fame week, and even on the 
 fame day of the month. 
 
 E. Whence do they come, and why da 
 they leave the places where they were bred ? 
 
 C. Herrings and pilchards are found in 
 the greateft quantity in the high northern 
 latitudes near the polar circle. Their im- 
 menfe numbers are fuppoied to make their 
 removal neceffary, and like fwarms of bees 
 ifTuing from the parent hives, they proceed 
 in fearch of new fettlements. Their arrival 
 
 upon
 
 144 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN*. 
 
 upon our coafts is announced to the fifherfnen 
 by the appearance of their different enemies 
 of the fea and air. Their ilioals difcolour the 
 fea, and are often fome miles in length. In 
 fine weather when the fun ihines, they re- 
 flect a variety of beautiful colours, and the 
 water appears like a field befpangled with 
 azure, purple and gold. Although the quan- 
 tity of pilchards caught at a fmgle draught 
 fometimes amounts to fifteen hundred bar* 
 rels, yet this makes no vifible decreafe of 
 their numbers. 
 
 E. What an advantage it is that thefe 
 fifhes come to invite the nlhermen to catch 
 them, for if they remained in the places 
 where they were bred, they could not be 
 caught at all. 
 
 C. If they did not quit their remote re- 
 cedes among the ice; if they fought the 
 depths of the fea inftead of the (hallows ; if 
 they did not fwim nearly upon the furface 
 inftead of diving to the bottom, they could 
 not be caught, at leaft not in fuch great 
 numbers ; and if they were not fo nume- 
 rous
 
 THE WONDERS Of THE OCEAN. 143 
 
 tous, they would not repay the labour of 
 the fifhermen. Such fifties as afford whole- 
 fome food to man approach the fhores ; 
 many others, either hurtful or ufelefs, con- 
 itantly live in the deep. Such evident marks 
 as thefe of the goodnefs of the Creator to 
 mankind, cannot efcape your attention. 
 
 E. Before we return home, I wifh to 
 make a collection of ihells. 
 
 C. You have already procured from the 
 fifhermen of Scarborough fome fine fpeci- 
 mens of the chama and the tellina kinds ; 
 but you cannot procure many more here, 
 as the moft beautiful are brought from 
 diftant feas. The Red Sea abounds with 
 ihells of all kinds : many of very rich co- 
 lours are found between the tropics, where 
 the heat of the fun has a fimilar effect 
 upon them, as on the birds, and gives 
 them a peculiar luftre and brilliancy of co- 
 lours. The fea-coafts of Alia furnilh pearl- 
 oyfters and fcallops ; the lhores of Malabar 
 abound with a fpecies of beautiful mails; 
 Japan produces many bivalves, or Ihells 
 
 vol. i, l compofed
 
 146 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAIx . 
 
 eompofed of double pieces, and the limpet 
 whofe radiated form refembles the head of 
 an umbrella, is found near the ifland of 
 Cyprus. I will carry you to fee a collec- 
 tion of fliells, wherein addition to fpecimens 
 of fuch as I have mentioned, you will find 
 others as curious, *uch as the cowry with 
 leopard fpots, the admirals, the numerous 
 echini, the nautilus, the Guernfey fnail, the 
 Ethiopian crown, the Panama fhell, the .mo- 
 ther-of-pearl,, the porcelain, the parroquet 
 fhell, the Venus neart cockle, the ducal 
 mantle pec"fcen, and many others. You will 
 likewife fee fame very curious foffils there. 
 
 E. What are foffils ? 
 
 C. A foilil means in general any thing 
 dug out of .the earth, whether at firit pro- 
 duced there as metals and Hones, or fome 
 foreign fubftances placed in the earth by 
 fome extraordinary means, as a flood, or a 
 an earthquake. Of this latter kind, many 
 are the fpoils of the ocean, fuch as fliells, 
 the teeth or bones of fiihes, and complete 
 fillies. All thefe ara found in a petrified 
 8 ftate,
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 147 
 
 ftate, that is, changed to ftone, on the tops 
 of mountains, in quarries of ftone, and beds 
 of gravel and chalk far remote from the lea. 
 Thefe cannot be, as fome fuperlicial natu- 
 ralifts imagine, lufus naturae, that is, the 
 mere fportive productions of nature, for if 
 foffil fhells and foffil fillies are examined 
 with the leaft attention, we mall 'be con- 
 vinced they are exactly like fhells and fillies 
 found in the ocean. 
 
 In the Ifle of Sheppey, in Kent, infinite 
 numbers of thefe curiofities have been dug 
 up. That place forms a kind of cabinet of 
 nature, containing fpecimens collected from 
 the moft diftant feas, and amaffed there, moft 
 probably, at that awful era of the world, 
 when water was made the inftrument of the 
 divine difpleafure, and the guilty race of 
 men, with the exception of righteous Noah 
 and his family, were deftroyed by the general 
 delude. 
 
 E. If it was pomble to walk with fafety 
 at the bottom of the fea,- what curiofities 
 mould I find there ? 
 
 l2 a if
 
 148 THE WONDERS OF TH£ OCEAtf, 
 
 C. If we were able to do this, we mould 
 no doubt find it in many refpects like the 
 land. It is varied by cavities, rocks, and 
 mountains, inhabited bv animals fuitcd to 
 their refpective abodes. The bottom of the 
 Red Sea is a foreft of fubmarine plants and 
 beds of coral, formed by infects * for their 
 habitation ; and in other feas, madrepores, 
 millepores, fponges, moffes, and fea miilh- 
 rooms abound. The bottom of the fea on 
 the coaft of America is covered with vege- 
 tables, which are the food of turtles and 
 other animals. 
 
 Could you realife the fables of antiquity, 
 by being transformed into a Nereid, or Sea- 
 nymph, and traverfe the caverns, grottoes, 
 and recefies at the bottom of the ocean, how 
 great would be your aftonifhment ! There 
 the fublime proceffes of Nature are carried 
 on — there the tides and currents that flow 
 beneath the earth have their fources; and 
 myriads of animals, vegetables, and mine- 
 rals, unknown to man, exift and anfwer the 
 purpofes of their creation. 
 
 E. Such
 
 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 149 
 
 E. Such refearches, were it poffible to 
 make them, would certainly gratify my cu- 
 riofitv; but you ha .e faid enough to convince 
 me of the wonders of the great deep, and the 
 -benefits mankind may draw from it. How 
 very happy are we, whom the lea at this time 
 protects from the invafion of the French ? 
 
 C. The conviction of this happinefs mould 
 be a motive to excite our gratitude to Him, 
 who fets bounds to the ambition of man, as 
 well as to the advances of the ocean. Much 
 do we owe to the valour of our failors, fo 
 often manifefted in our defence; but our 
 debt of obligation for our continued fafety 
 cannot in any due degree be difcharged, unlefs 
 we afcribe all honour and praife to Him 
 whole protection does not depend upon the 
 frail and perifhable arm of fiefh — to Him 
 who has begirt our ifland with this never- 
 failing rampart, and who tells us by the fub- 
 lime voice of Nature, as often as we hear 
 the waves either gently murmur, or tem- 
 peftuoufly dalh upon any part of our mores, 
 
 PRITONSj
 
 150 THE WONDERS OF THE OCEAN. 
 
 Britons, be pious, loyal, and united, 
 and you shall be for ever happy and 
 
 FREE. 
 
 As the Colonel foon found benefit from 
 bathing, and drinking the waters of Scarbo- 
 rough, his ftay there was fhort. Emily at- 
 tended him with all the anxiety naturally 
 ariiing from her tendernefs and affection. 
 She returned to Lorton Houfe, rich in 
 iketches, fheils, and fea-plants, and antici- 
 pated the pleafure of entertaining her aunt 
 with an account of ail fhe had feen ; but no- 
 thing made her feel fo much fatisfaction on 
 reaching her native place, as the thought 
 that her father's recovery would enable them 
 to continue the enjoyments of their retire- 
 ment, among the greateft of which fhe reck- 
 oned the purfuit of her ftudies, and the im- 
 provement of her mind. 
 
 CHAP,
 
 CHAP. XV, 
 
 THE STARRY HEAVEVS, 
 
 CONVERSATION VII. 
 
 ]N ot long after their return from Scarbo- 
 rough, Emily took a walk with her father 
 upon the banks of Kefwick Lake. The 
 weather was delightful, the air balmy and 
 foft, and the breezes gently agitated the 
 leaves of the filver-barked birch trees, that 
 grew from the fiffures of the rocks. The 
 fun was finking below the horizon, and the 
 tints of evening began to obfcure every ob- 
 ject. The water-fails, unperceived during 
 the day, were now heard to give various 
 founds, fome near, others more remote. The 
 
 long
 
 1552 THE STARRY HE A VEX S. 
 
 Ions ill ado ws of the mountains were foon 
 after projected far into the water, which 
 prefentcd a finooth and dark furface, fpan- 
 gled with the reflected (lars. As " the full 
 moon rofe in cloudlefs iplendour, its light 
 fnft touched the fummits of the mountains 
 and woods, and as it afcended higher in the 
 heavens, poured a foft and filvery brightnefs 
 over the calm and unruffled bofom of the 
 lake. 
 
 " You are very filent," laid Emily to her 
 father ; " I wifh to know what you are think- 
 ing of while you look lb attentively at the 
 heavens." 
 
 " I am admiring/' faid the Colonel, '" the 
 glorious appearance of the moon and the 
 ftars, and my admiration is fucceeded by 
 ambition and curiohty. I wilh to foar on 
 high, and vifit the moon and fome of the 
 more diftant orbs of light, and to fee what 
 are their inhabitants and productions. But 
 as I am convinced of the impoffibility of 
 taking fuch a flight, my mind defcends to 
 thoughts more fuited to my accuftomed ha- 
 bits
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 155 
 
 bits and feelings. Your prefence adds greatly 
 to the pleafure I derive from this profpect : 
 were you abfent, I mould wilh, ardently 
 wiih for your company to enjoy this grand 
 difplay of Nature with me, 
 
 J5L Why do the ftarry heavens attract fo 
 little attention from people in general? 
 
 C. Becaule fuch an appearance is com- 
 mon. If there was fuch a night as this only 
 once in the courfe of a period's life, every 
 one who enjoyed the faculty of fight would 
 be alive to the difplay of its beauty. All 
 would then be duly impreffed with the con- 
 viction of the power and the wifdom of the 
 great Creator : they would be fully fenfible 
 of his immediate prefence ditfufed through 
 this his magnificent palace of the univerfe, 
 of which the depths of azure form the circuit, 
 the myriads of ftars are the luminaries, and 
 mankind are permitted, by efpecial favour, 
 to be the fpectators. 
 
 E. As we are at fo great a diftance from the 
 heavenly bodies, is it in the power of men to 
 Know any thing certain concerning them ? 
 
 a Thofe
 
 J.54* THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 C. Thofc who arc ignorant of aftronomy 
 may fuppofe that all that has been written 
 upon the fuhjeet is nothing more than inge- 
 nious conjecture. There is however a fa£t 
 which will convince you that aftronomers 
 proceed upon the true principles of lcience, 
 that is, rightly explain the laws of Nature, 
 when they inftrucl you as to the fizes" mo- 
 tions, and diftances of the largeft and molt 
 confpicuous of the heavenly bodies. I al- 
 lude to the exacinefs with which they calcu- 
 late eclipfcs. 
 
 E. What is an eclipfe ? 
 
 C. An eclipie means a failure, or want of 
 light. Eclipfcs depend upon this caufe — 
 all dark bodies when expoled to a light one, 
 as for inftance to the fun, caft a fhadow be- 
 hind them, juft as a ball does placed upon 
 a table near a candle. If aftronomers can 
 foretel when eclipfes will happen, ought you 
 not to give them credit for their knowledge 
 of other facts which belong to their pro- 
 vince ? And that they can do this, a com- 
 mon almanack may convince you ; for you 
 
 will
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 155 
 
 will there obferve all the eclipfes, both of 
 the fun and the moon, that will happen in 
 the courle of the year, diftinctly mentioned, 
 and the days and hours very exactly ftated, 
 as to their beginning, continuation, and end, 
 and how much of the body of the fun or the 
 moon will be darkened. 
 
 E. What is an eclipfe of the fun ? 
 
 C. An eclipfe of the fun happens when 
 the fun's light is fo cut off by the moon, that 
 to any part of the earth the fun appears to be 
 partly or wholly covered by a fhadow. 
 
 E. What is an eclipfe of the moon ? 
 
 C. An eclipfe of the moon happens when 
 the globe of the earth paffes between the fun 
 and the moon, and the moon falls into the 
 earth's fhadow : and as live has no light of 
 her own, (lie fuffers an eclipfe, in coniequence 
 of the fun's rays being intercepted, or cut 
 off. 
 
 E. Do eclipfes happen very often? 
 
 C. In any year the number of eclipfes, 
 both of the fun and the moon, cannot be 
 lefe than two, or more than feven ; the ufual 
 
 number
 
 156 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 number is four, and it is very uncommon to 
 have more than fix. The fun is more fre- 
 quently eclipfed than the moon, and yet 
 more eclipfes of the mocn are vifible, than 
 of the fun. 
 
 E. Ought we not to think ourfelves much 
 obliged to the aftronomers for the notice 
 they give us of approaching eclipfes ? 
 
 C, Certainly; for before the caufes of fuch 
 appearances were difcovered, they were be- 
 held with terror and difmay. The knowledge 
 which enables the aftronomers to calculate 
 them, forms one of the great diftinclions be- 
 tween civilifea and barbarous nations. 
 
 E. Can you give me an example of this 
 diftinction ? 
 
 Q. I can — you have heard me talk of the 
 great Chriftopher Columbus, who difcovered 
 America. In the courfe of one of his voy- 
 ages, his mip was driven by a ftorm to the 
 coaft of Jamaica, and he was reduced to 
 diftrefs for want of provifions. On being 
 refufed fupplies by the barbarous inhabitants 
 of the ifland, he told them, that the Deity whom 
 
 he
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 157 
 
 he worfhipped was fo angry at their inhu- 
 manity to him, that he would fiiortly punifh 
 them with a plague ; and as a proof that 
 what he threatened was certain to happen, 
 the moon would be darkened at a particular 
 hour the next night. The truth was, Colum- 
 bus, by his fkill in aftronomy, knew that a, 
 lunar eclipfe would happen at the time he 
 mentioned. It accordingly took place, and 
 the people were fo terrified that they brought 
 him all kinds of provifions, and entreated 
 him to appeafe the wrath of his Deity, and 
 iuppiicate him to reitore the light of the 
 moon. 
 
 E. In what elfe does aftronomy inftruct 
 us? 
 
 C. In the knowledge of the folar fyftem. 
 By this fyftem I mean the eftabliihed order 
 of that part of the creation which relates to 
 the fun, and the heavenly bodies that move 
 round him. The fun is fixed in the centre of 
 this fyftem, and the planets, or moving ftars, 
 with their fatellites, or moons, move round him 
 in different times and at different diftances, 
 
 E. Do
 
 LS8 THE STARRY HEAVENS, 
 
 E. Do you fay the fun is fixed? Does he 
 not move, as he appears to do ? 
 
 C. The fun has a motion upon his own 
 axis, and that has been difcovered by ob- 
 ferving that the fpots on his furface change 
 their places. The earth moves round the 
 fun, and not the fun round the earth. 
 
 E. Be fo good as to explain to me the 
 motion of the earth. 
 
 C. The earth has two motions, one upon 
 its own axis every twenty-four hours, which 
 caufes the fucceffion of light and darknefs, 
 and of day and night ; and another round the 
 fun in a little more time than 365 days : It 
 comes to the fame place in the heavens again 
 in that time, and fo completes the year. 
 This motion of the earth round the fun caufes 
 the different lengths of the days' and nights, 
 and of courfe of the different feafons of the 
 year. 
 
 E. If the fun does not move round the 
 earth, why do we fey that the fun rifts and 
 
 fttt? 
 
 C. When we ufe thefe words., we ex pre is 
 
 the
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 1.5?) 
 
 the common notions of mankind, and not 
 the true nature of things, Ail ronomy teaches 
 us to diftinguim reality from appearance. 
 This appearance will be the fame to us whe- 
 ther the fun move round the earth, while 
 the earth itands ftill, or the fun ftands Hill, 
 and the earth moves on its axis the contrary 
 way to that which it appears to move. 
 
 E. I cannot clearly conceive this: give 
 me fome example that will affift me to un- 
 tie rft and you. 
 
 C. Do you not recollect when we were 
 returning from Scarborough, and our chaife 
 was driven very rapidly along a level road, 
 you faid the trees and hedges appeared to 
 move the contrarv way to that we were 
 going ; and when we have been failing upon 
 the lake in imooth water, have not the fhores 
 appeared to move from us, and not we from 
 them? 
 
 E. Our real motion then in the carriage 
 and the boat, I fuppofe, is intended to repre- 
 lent the real motion of the earth ; and the 
 apparent motion of the trees and the fhores 
 
 to
 
 160 THE STARRY fcfcAVEffS, 
 
 to reprefent the apparent motion of the fun. 
 Thefe inftances greatly affift me to correct 
 my former error. Is the fun a very large 
 body? 
 
 C. It is computed to be more than a 
 million times larger than the earth ; it would 
 therefore be abfurd to fuppofe that the for- 
 mer moved round the latter. You might as 
 well imagine that a millftone moved round 
 a pebble. 
 
 E. How many planets are there in the 
 folar fyftem ? 
 
 C. There are feven, and they are called 
 Mercury, Venus, the Earth, Mars, Jupiter, Sa- 
 turn, and the Georgium Sidus. I name them 
 in the order of their diftance from the fun. 
 Mercury is the neareft, and the Georgium 
 Sidus tiie moil remote. Thefe planets are 
 in themfelves opacjue, that is, dark-coloured 
 bodies reflecting the light of the fun, which 
 makes them fliine with more or lefs fplen- 
 dour. 
 
 E. Are there any other bodies belonging 
 to the folar fvftem ? 
 
 C Eighteen
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. l6i 
 
 C. Eighteen have been difcovered : they 
 are called Satellites, or Moons. The molt 
 confpicuous is our Moon, which moves round 
 the earth in fomething lefs than twenty- 
 eight days : four move round Jupiter, feven 
 round Saturn, and iix round the Georgimn 
 Sidus. They move round their refpective 
 planets in the fame manner as the planets 
 move round the fun, from weft to eait ; ex- 
 cept thofe of the Georgium Sidus, which 
 appear to move in the contrary direction, 
 
 E. Were the antients acquainted with th£ 
 folar fvftem? 
 
 C, It was known to Pythagoras, an emi- 
 nent Grecian philofopher, who lived ,500 
 years before Chrift ; and it was revived by 
 Copernicus, a Prulfian aftronomer, who flou- 
 r lined in the 15th century : in honour of him 
 it is frequently called the Copernican Syftem. 
 
 E. What are Comets r 
 
 C. They are ftars of various fizes, with 
 long bright tails, refembling a bluifh flame. 
 
 E. Are there any that belong to our 
 fyftem ? 
 
 vol. i. k C Several
 
 16£ THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 C. Several have been obferved both -in 
 antient arid modern times. They move very 
 irregularly, and with inconceivable fwiftnefc 
 round the fun, and they crofs the orbits: 
 of the planets in all directions. Their 
 periodical times, that is, the time in which 
 they return to a given place, is very dif- 
 ficult to be known. Dr. Halley, however^ 
 a great aftronomer of the laft century, calcu- 
 lated the time when one of them would re- 
 turn, and the event agreed very nearly with 
 his calculation, 
 
 E. Do any other heavenly bcfdies, befide" 
 thole we have mentioned, move round the 
 fun? 
 
 C. No: the other heavenly bo/lies are 
 called Fixed Stars. 
 
 E. What is the nature of the fixed ftars ? * 
 
 C As they ihine with their own light; 
 they are fuppofed to be funs, and that each 
 is placed in the centre of a fyftem, in which 
 planets revolve round them as ours do round 
 the fun. — Imagine, for a moment, that we 
 oould foar on high, as I was wiihing to do 
 
 juft
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. \63 
 
 juft before we began this converfation, and 
 we were placed as near to any one of the 
 ftars, as we are now in the earth to the fun ; 
 that ftar would appear as near to us as the 
 fun now does, and our fun would ap>pear no 
 larger than a fixed ftar. Every ftar there- 
 fore may be confidered as the fun of a fyftem, 
 confifting of planets governed by laws, and 
 revolving round their centre with regular 
 motions, and invariably keeping the tracks 
 marked out for them, like the planets of our 
 iyftem. 
 
 E. This is wonderful indeed, particularly 
 as the fixed ftars appear to be innumerable. 
 Look how many there are ; I think there are 
 thoufands, nay millions, of different fizes. 
 
 C. You are greatly miftaken ; for the moft 
 accurate and keen-eyed aftronomers have ob- 
 ferved, that not more than a thoufand ftara 
 are vifible at one time to the naked eye. 
 Many more indeed have been brought to 
 view by the affiftance of telefcopes, and the 
 greater the magnifying power of fuch glafies 
 is, the greater is the number difcoverei 
 
 m 2 Dr,
 
 i()4> THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 Dr. Herfchel, whofe application to afifo- 
 nomy has been inceffant, by the aid of his? 
 telefcopes of very great magnifying power, 
 aot only difcovered the Georgium Sidus and 
 its fatellites, but has afcertained, that the 
 whole luminous track in the heavens, com- 
 monly called the Milky Way, confifts en- 
 tirely of ftars, and that their number cannot 
 be lefs than fifty thoufand. Huygens, an 
 eminent aftronomer, carried his ideas lb far 
 with refpe6t to the probable exiftence of un- 
 difcovered ftars., as to think there may be 
 ftars at fuch an inconceivable diftance, that 
 their light has not yet reached the earth 
 lince its creation, notwithstanding the fwift- 
 nefs of light, which flies a million of time? 
 after than a cannon-ball. I cannot form, 
 nor endeavour to convey to you a more fub- 
 iime and aftonidiing idea than this, of the 
 power, wifdom, and goodnefs of the Almighty, 
 extended to numberlefs fyftems of worlds 
 placed in the immenfe regions of fpace. 
 
 E. As the univerfe gives us fuch an 
 enlarged notion of the greatnefs and the 
 
 power 
 
 5
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 165 
 
 power of God, does it not make mankind 
 appear very humble, and too mean to be 
 worthy of his care ? Does not the Pfalmift 
 fay, / ivill conftder thy heavens, even the 
 works of thy fingers, the moon and theftars 
 which thou haft ordained: JVhat is man thai 
 thou art mindful of him, and the fon of man 
 that thou vifitefl him ? 
 
 C. This reflection is ufeful to abate our 
 pride, and to teach us humility ; but it is 
 far from the intention of the Pfalmift to 
 prove, nor is there reafon for concluding 
 that we are too infignificant to engage the 
 attention of the Almighty. For fuppofing 
 millions of worlds to exift, and every one of 
 them to be full of inhabitants, ftill we have 
 fufficient proofs afforded to us in the order and 
 regularity with which all things are conducted 
 in this our world, in our defire of knowledge, 
 and the means afforded to us of acquiring it ; 
 in the comforts allowed to us in this life, and 
 the affurance conveyed by Revelation of a 
 better world to come, to be fatisfied that we 
 partake, in common with the reft of created 
 
 beings,
 
 166 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 beings, the bounty and the care of the 
 Almighty. 
 
 I hope, my dear Emily, I have faid enough 
 to divert your mind of the notions which the 
 vulgar are apt to entertain of the ftars, as if 
 they were only little lights placed in the 
 heavens to catch the eyes of a few accidental 
 fpeclators. 
 
 E. From all you have faid I am certain 
 that altronomy is a noble ftudy ; I am eager 
 to know more of it. 
 
 C. What I have told you is very fuperfl- 
 cial and imperfect, and by no means does 
 juftice to the fubjecl;. In order that you 
 snay enter more fully into the fpirit of it, we 
 will read Fontenelle's Plurality des Mondes, 
 and Fergufon's Aftronomy : they are the 
 eafieft and the pleafanteft books of the kind 
 I know. 
 
 During this converfation, Emily, leaning 
 upon her father's arm, moderated his pace 
 by her own flow fteps, and they both fre- 
 quently paufed, in admiration of the moon- 
 light beauties of the profpec~t, where all was 
 calm, folemn, and delicious. 
 
 As
 
 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 167 
 
 As they were returning with more hafte — - 
 in one of their intervals of filence, on a fud- 
 den a clarinet was heard, and the notes of 
 a wild and plaintive tune faluted their ears. 
 The echoes caught the delightful founds, and 
 repeated them from different rocks; fome- 
 times they iwelled full in the breeze, and 
 while they were liftening to fome notes that 
 were d^ing away in the diftance, others 
 nearer and louder ftruck their attention. The 
 fcene appeared like the effect of enchant- 
 ment — fo indeed did the mulic : it refembled 
 the ifland of Profpere, and his attendant 
 Ariel warbling " fweet airs. 1 ' 
 
 The modulation of the inftrument was fo 
 fine and varied, the tones fo clear and me- 
 lodious, and the paufes fo well managed, 
 that Colonel Lorton declared he had never 
 heard more affecting muiic. Emily was mo- 
 tionlefs, and filent — for what was her furprize, 
 when Ihe recognized the very fame air Edward 
 Harriot had often played at Lorton Houfe, 
 and Ihe had commended : to complete her 
 aftonifliment, it proceeded from nearly the 
 
 fame
 
 168 THE STARRY HEAVENS. 
 
 fame place — a fmali opening between tht- 
 mountains, whither fhe had been conveyed 
 after her efcape from the imminent danger 
 of a watery death. 
 
 The coincidence of circumftances very for- 
 cibly ftruck her mind — and what, thought fhe, 
 if this mufjcian mould be my preferverhimfelf, 
 and how can I fail to entertain and encourage 
 an idea fo flattering to my wilhes ? — She w r as 
 right in her conjecture, for Edward during 
 many a fine evening had frequented the me- 
 morable fpot, and took this method of cht- 
 rifhing the fweet remembrance of her, whofe 
 image was engraved on his heart. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. XVI, 
 
 She would fit, and tell 
 
 Of fliadowy ghofts, that glide the church-yard path, 
 And fcare the fchool-boy — of the death-bed cail 
 Heard by the fell afiafiin — of blue flames 
 Seen in the lonely tower at eventide ^ 
 Till her pale auditors with panic chill'd, 
 Dar'd not to look afkance A. 
 
 About this time the attention of the family 
 at Lorton houfe was directed to an incident 
 which gave rife to an interefting converfation. 
 Mrs. Mapleton remarked to her brother, that 
 none of their fervants for the laft evening or 
 two, would go alone into any of the rooms 
 in the houfe, but two or three always went 
 together, and they all feemed, the men as 
 well as the women, to be in great fright and 
 agitation. The cook-maid appeared to be 
 more alarmed than the reft ; and Mrs. Ma- 
 pleton,
 
 170 EMILY. 
 
 pleton, wifhing her brother to hear what 
 eaufe the girl had to affign for her itrange 
 alteration of behaviour, called her into the 
 parlour ; and the account me gave, with 
 much hefitation, and a faltering voice, was 
 as follows : 
 
 " I was fent," faid ihe, " on an errand 
 to Dr. Marriot's, and was kept there fo 
 long, that I was obliged to return home 
 alone, a little before it was quite dark : 
 juft as I had paifed through the church- 
 yard, I thought I heard a noife behind me, 
 and on looking back, I faw a nioft terrible 
 fight indeed — it was a ' ghoft with large 
 flaming eyes moving ilowly towards the church 
 door : I was fo terrified, I hardly dared to 
 ftir or breathe ; but at laft I ran about a 
 hundred yards, and then ventured to look 
 back, when the whole infide of the church 
 appeared to be in a blaze of fire. As foon as 
 I came home, I told what I had feen to my 
 fellow-fervants, and they all faid, that what 
 I had feen could be nothing elfe but farmer 
 Davis's ghoft, that cannot reft in the grave, 
 
 becaufe,
 
 EMILY, 171 
 
 becaufe, cruel wretch as he was, hfc beat his 
 poor plough-boy to death. I allure you, dame 
 Rogers told us, he has often been feen in that 
 place. I hope, Sir, you will not be angry, 
 but for my part, I would not venture to go 
 alone again acrofs the church-yard at night, 
 no, not if you would give me a purfe of 
 gold." 
 
 Had Colonel Lorton or his fifter fuppofed 
 the cook-maid would have related fuch a 
 ftory, they would on no account have al- 
 lowed her to do fo, when Emily and Fanny 
 were prefent. Both of them liftened to every 
 word ihe faid with fixed attention : at firft 
 they furveyed her with aftonifhment ; at the 
 end of her narrative, Emily was Handing 
 clofe to her father, with her arms thrown 
 around him, and the trembling Fanny ftood 
 near Mrs. Mapleton, and concealed her 
 face. 
 
 " Well," faid the Colonel, laughing, " this 
 is a terrible adventure indeed; why, cook, 
 how came the ghofl not to fly away both 
 with you and the church ; but I fuppofe 
 
 you
 
 )?£ KMTLY. 
 
 •you would have been rather too heavy for 
 him to carry. Now what will you fay, if 
 I explain the whole myftery. Take my 
 word for it, what you law was only the 
 Doctor walking acrofs the church-yard with 
 his lantern in his hand, and what you mif- 
 tooff for the church in a blaze, was nothing 
 but the light of the lantern mining through 
 the windows, while the doctor was walking 
 in the church. That you and the other fer- 
 vants may be free from any more alarms, and 
 have the laugh completely turned againlt 
 you, I ^ill take a walk to the doctor's 
 houfe, and clear up the whole wonder." 
 
 The colonel went there, and in a fhort 
 time returned, fully confirmed in his con- 
 jecture. The truth was, the doctor accord- 
 ing to cuftom, had been taking one of his 
 evening walks in the church, and thinking it 
 would foon grow dark, carried his lantern 
 ready lighted in his hand. 
 
 Tranquillity was thus in a great degree 
 reftored in the kitchen, but the mind of 
 Emily was difturbed; me had indeed no 
 
 longer
 
 1LM1LY. !?.'> 
 
 longer any doubt as to the true caufe of 
 the late alarm among the fervants, yet the 
 various tales me had heard from them, oc- 
 curred to her recollection, and Hie ventured 
 to fay, " Pray, dear father, tell me the rea- 
 fon, why lb many ftories are told of ghofts 
 and apparitions r" 
 
 li Various caufes/' faid the colonel, " may 
 be afligned for their origin and circuiati 
 Before the Reformation, the priefts of the 
 church of Rome endeavoured to fupport 
 their falling credit by telling ftories of falfe 
 miracles, and fupernatural appearances ; fu- 
 perftition, bad consciences, and low fpirits 
 have added to their number; the impreflion of 
 them has been deeply fixed in the minds of 
 the ignorant and the timid, and their fond-' 
 nefe for whatever is marvellous has induced 
 them to circulate thefe tales, and deliver 
 them down from one generation to another, 
 clothed with additional circumftances of 
 terror and dilinay." 
 
 " One very great fource of thefe tales is 
 fear, which had you know fuch an effect 
 
 upon
 
 i74 'IILY, 
 
 upon the poor cook as to make her trans- 
 form the doctor into a ghoit : another caufe 
 alnlolt as fruitful is artifice — this prevails 
 in cafes where perfons have recourfe to 
 foirie contrivance, and fpread a falfe report, 
 that they may without interruption carry on 
 fome bad practices; and as I look upon 
 this to be a mode of producing the terrific, 
 againft which you ought particularly to be 
 put upon your guard, I will read to you 
 from an ancient family manufcript, the ftory 
 of an adventure that befel one of our an- 
 ceftors. 
 
 The fervants were all ordered to attend 
 in the parlour, and the Colonel began as 
 follows : 
 
 " Some centuries ago, when the fpirit of 
 romantic enterprize fired the breaft of every 
 gentleman, as much as fuperftition and ter-*- 
 ror haunted the minds of the lower ranks of 
 fociety, Sir Martin de Courcy, a pious and 
 brave knight, who had obtained renown at 
 the battles of Creci and Poitiers, was tra- 
 velling towards the north of England, at- 
 tended
 
 EMILY. 175 
 
 tended by feveral domeftics, charged with 
 important difpatches to king Edward the 
 third. After a tedious journey through a 
 wild country, he reached a imall village 
 near which was an anticnt caftle. He, in- 
 quired in the village, if he could be accom- 
 modated with entertainment and lodging in 
 the caftle. " Sir knight," laid a hoary-headed 
 cottager, " you muft not think of fojournjng 
 there, the place has been long uninhabited, 
 and no one ventures to approach nearer to 
 it, than the draw-bridge ; for ftrange nojfes 
 have been heard to proceed from thence by 
 night, lights have been feen moving along 
 the windows, and the place is certainly 
 haunted by evil fpirits ; they wander about 
 the great rooms, and in the dark and vaft 
 dungeons under them, where it is faid they 
 chain and torment all raih intruders upon 
 their deeds of darknefs." 
 
 " Good Friend," faid Sir Martin, " I know 
 no fear, becaufe my confeience reproaches 
 me with no crime. I am a true Knight, and 
 I hope a true Chriftian ; curious and eager 
 
 have
 
 EMILY. 
 
 have I been from my childhood to c6n- 
 verfe with unembodied fpirits, if fuch abide 
 here or elfewhere. I am therefore refolved 
 to pafs this night in the caftle, whatever 
 may be the iffue of the adventure." 
 
 The knight commanded his fervants to 
 attend him with wine and candles, and de- 
 fired the old cottager to lead the way. " To 
 the caftie yard will I attend you full rea- 
 dily," faid he, " but not a ftep farther : I 
 will not fo much expofe myfelf to the anger 
 of thefe fpirits, as to be guilty of raihnefs 
 like thine." 
 
 They afcended the hill upon which the 
 caftle ltood, and paffed through the firft gate 
 into the court-yard, which was overgrown 
 with fpire grafs and weeds. They paffed 
 over the draw-bridge ; under it appeared the 
 dark and deep water of the moat, which 
 furrounded the caftle. As they were pro- 
 ceeding to the fecond portcullis-gate, the 
 moon before obfcured by clouds, fhone 
 clearly, and fhed its light upon the lofty 
 towers, and filvered with full fplendour the 
 
 long
 
 EMILY. \77 
 
 lbnff line of grated windows of the caitle- 
 hall, while the broken arches and walls 
 rieareft to them remained in deep fliadow. 
 They advanced up a flight of ftep3 to an im- 
 menfe door, plated with iron, which grated 
 hardily on its hinges as they with difficulty 
 opened it. They entered the great hall, 
 and by the light of the torches they furveyed 
 its ample fpace, the roof was raftered, the 
 fire-place was of very wide extent, over it 
 were hung coats of mail, and on the walls 
 were arranged corflets, fpears, and helmets : 
 under the windows itood loner tables, where 
 the lord of the caftle had in old time 
 been accuftomed to feaft his knights and 
 vaflals : there was a gallery formerly the fta- 
 tion of the harpers and ininftrels, but now 
 vanifhed was the banquet, and mute was 
 the harp ; all was filent and gloomy as the 
 grave. 
 
 AVhen they advanced to the upper end 
 of the hall, the fervants of Sir Martin were 
 flartled at feeing two gigantic forms of men 
 in complete armour ftanding in niches : Sir 
 Martin, nothing daunted, drew his fword, 
 
 vol. i. n and
 
 178 EMILY*. 
 
 and on advancing nearer, difcovered the one 
 to be a ftatue of Guy Earl of Warwick, who 
 flew Colebrand the Dane, .in fingle combat; 
 and the other was Sir Hugh Cselareo the 
 Knight of the Foreft of Inglewood, who 
 fubdued four Caledonians of redoubtable 
 prowefs. They then entered a room, for- 
 merly the private apartment of the lord o£ 
 the caitlc ; the furniture confifted of an an- 
 tient ebony table, and high backed chairs, 
 curioufly carved; pictures of old warriours 
 and ladies, mouldering in their frames hung 
 around. Sir Martin ordered a fire to be 
 lighted in this- apartment, the candles to be 
 placed upon the table, and bade his fervai it- 
 return to the village. 
 
 He heard diftincrly the found of their re- 
 tiring footfteps, and the harm grating of the 
 ponderous door as they ihut it after them, 
 till at laft all was iilence. He then laid 
 his fword upon the table, took out his mafs 1 
 book, and fervently repeated his vefpers. 
 He could not however bring his mind into 
 a itate of perfect compofure, but walked 
 
 about. 
 8
 
 EMILY. \79 
 
 9 
 
 about the room. As he grew more and 
 more reftlefs, he took a candle to examine 
 the objects around him, and difcovered a 
 pair of folding doors ; on opening them 
 he faw an apartment lofty, fpacious, and 
 grand, hung round with rich tapeftry much 
 faded by length of time. On one fide of the 
 room was wrought the death of St. Edmund 
 the king and martyr, who was bafely fiain 
 by the Pagan Danes, near Framlingham 
 caftle, in Norfolk. His pallid head lay at 
 a diftance from his body, and the blood 
 feemed to be flowing in a frefh ftream. 
 Oppofite this was curioufly wrought the 
 ftory of Don Orlando the Spaniih knight, 
 and his miltrefs the falfe I label of Arragon. 
 The knight in complete armour was fitting 
 in despair at the tomb of I label, to whom 
 he had plighted his love, before he went to 
 the Holy Wars ; her corfe, beautiful even in 
 death, was laid at his feet ; and the fatal 
 dagger was fixed in her fnowy bofom. At 
 a diftance was the body of his rival Almida 
 the Moor, whom Don Orlando had flam in 
 
 N 2 fingle
 
 ISO EMILY, 
 
 finglc combat. , Each of theic pieces of 
 tapeftry had explanatory inferiptions worked 
 in large Gothic characters. 
 
 While Sir Martin was attentively looking 
 at theie tragical fubjects, fo deeply affecting 
 to one in his peculiar fituation, he heard a 
 ruffling noife at one of the windows ; on 
 turning round he perceived, though indif- 
 tinctly, on the outlide of the window two 
 lofty and dark figures bending backward 
 and forward — he flood firm, and demanded 
 who was there, but no anfwer was returned 
 — all was profoundly filent. He then doled 
 the beaver of his helmet, grafped his fword, 
 and advanced with a flow pace, and juft as 
 he approached the window, the moon 
 lhons out brightly, and dilcovered thefe 
 figures to be two tall trees waving in the 
 wind. This incident confirmed his courage, 
 and he fmiled to think how alarmed his fer- 
 vants would have been, had they been fpec- 
 tators of this appearance. 
 
 As he returned through the room, he fur- 
 veyed the tapeftry again, the eyes of the 
 
 figure-
 
 EMILY. 181 
 
 f'iures feemed to glare upon him, and yet 
 Mas his heart unappalled ; he furred the 
 embers ahnoft expiring on the hearth in the 
 fmall room, and then refolved to relign 
 himfelf to ilecp. For a ihort time he dozed, 
 till the eloek of the caftie, with folemn, 
 deep, and diftant ftrokes at long intervals, 
 founded the hour of midnight, and awoke 
 him. An awful filence fucceeded, broken 
 only by the hollow murmuring of the wind 
 around the walls and battlements of the 
 eaftle. 
 
 Sir Martin was at length ftartled bv hear- 
 ing, or thinking he heard, a diftant noife 
 which feemed to proceed from the farther 
 end of the long tapeftry room. It feemed 
 like the clanking of chains, andfuch it really 
 was, and the found of feet ftrongly and 
 firmly treading, announced the approach of 
 fome one. And now Sir Martin, the adven- 
 ture began to afliime a ferious appearance, 
 and required the utmoft exertion of thy in- 
 trepidity to fupport thee ! The folding doors 
 flew open, and a lofty figure of a knigitf 
 
 clothed
 
 IS l J! EMILY. 
 
 ciothed in complete armour appeared, hold- 
 ing a blazing torch in one hand, and a heavy 
 chain in the other; his head was covered 
 with a helmet flirmounted by a black wav- 
 ing plume of feathers. The figure advanced 
 towards Sir Martin, then flopped, but fpoke 
 not a word. 
 
 Sir Martin role from his feat, and in a 
 firm tone demanded, in the name of the Holy 
 Virgin and St. George, what caufe brought 
 him there The figure waved his torch, 
 pointed it to the place from whence he had 
 come, made iigns for Sir Martin to follow 
 him, and then flowly turning round, ftalked 
 away. Sir Martin grafping his fword in his 
 right hand, took a candle in his left, and 
 obeyed. The figure led the way with flow 
 fteps ; but ftill he fpoke not a word. When 
 he came to the end of the tapcftry room, he 
 opened a fecret door, and Sir Martin fol- 
 lowed him down a flight of wide and wind- 
 ing ftairs. They then came to the end of a 
 long vaulted paflage, and all on a fudden 
 his myfterious guide difappeared. Sir Mar- 
 tin
 
 MILT. 183 
 
 funk down through a trap -door, and on 
 recovering from a flight fall, he found him- 
 felf in a large vault well lighted by lamps — ■ 
 and in the power, not of fpectres, appari- 
 tions, or fupernaturai beings, but of a num- 
 ber of ftout and fiercely looking men, of black 
 and difmal afpeets, who inftantlv furrounded 
 him, and threatened him with death. His 
 great foul meditated refiftance, but what 
 could one knight do when oppofed to fuch 
 numbers ? 
 
 u Rafh ftranger," faid their leader, " in 
 defiance of the meafures we have taken to 
 deter all perfons from coming hither, thou 
 haft dared to violate this retreat, in which 
 we carry on our occupation of coining, and 
 lb prepare, inftantly, to fuffer for thy folly." 
 
 Here he paufed, and Sir Martin obtained 
 permiffion to fpeak. i: Gentlemen," faid he, 
 " my conduct in coming to this caftle may 
 make you think me prefumptuous and de- 
 fining, but I afTure you upon the facred 
 word of a true knight, I promife to keep this 
 adventure a fecret; fo do not, I conjure 
 
 you.
 
 184 EMILY. 
 
 you, commit a crime by putting a man to 
 death, who never had the leaft intention to 
 injure you : mould you take my life, con- 
 iider the confequences of a deed not only 
 cruel, but impolitic in the extreme. I am 
 the bearer of letters of great importance to 
 the king, which I am bound to deliver in 
 perfon : I have many truity fervants in the 
 village, they will make the moft diligent 
 fearch after me, and at laft this place and 
 you will be difcovered ; what the confe- 
 quences will certainly be, as you may eaiily 
 guefs, I need not defcribe." 
 
 The argument of the knight prevailed ; 
 and the coiners agreed to truft to his promife, 
 after having made him fwear by the Holy 
 Evangelifts, that he would relate the molt 
 terrible account of his adventures in the 
 caftle. They then conducted him courte- 
 oufly back to the tapeftry room, and as 
 ibon as the day dawned, he returned to the 
 village, and allured the people he had feen 
 fuch things as were too frightful to defcribe. 
 
 Some
 
 emilt; ISo 
 
 Some years after this adventure, as Sir 
 Martin was entertaining a party of friends in 
 iiis own caitle, he was informed a ftranger 
 had brought him two fine liorfes, and re- 
 quefted leave to fpeak to him — but refufed 
 to enter the caitle. He went out, and the 
 ftranger, whofe voice he thought he had 
 fomewhere heard before, informed him, that 
 the perfons, who had fworn him to fecrecy 
 in the haunted caitle, returned him thanks 
 for having kept his promiie, and now re- 
 leafed him from it, as they had quitted the 
 caille for ever. " I am the perfon," con- 
 tinued he, u whofe office it was to terrify 
 every one who came to pry into our fecrets, 
 by drefiing myfelf in complete armour, and 
 appearing in the tapeftry room. In the 
 name of my companions I beg your accept- 
 ance of a prefent of horfes as a proof of 
 our gratitude." He had tied the horfes to a 
 tree, and as foon as he had ended his fpeech, 
 
 galloped away, with the greateft fpeed. 
 
 Sir
 
 186 'EMILY. 
 
 Sir Martin then returned to his impa- 
 tient friends, and related the particulars of 
 this lingular adventure. They warmly con- 
 gratulated him on the proof he had given of 
 undaunted courage, and his noble triumph 
 over popular fuperftition. 
 
 " My courage," laid he, u is greatly con- 
 firmed by a fure confidence in my great 
 Creator. I fupplicatc his guidance by prayer, 
 and I endeavour to deferve his protection by 
 a holy life. If the world was as much un- 
 der the control of fpiritual Beings, as the 
 vulgar chriftians of this age imagine, ftill I 
 lhould be confident they mult a6l under the 
 direction of the Almighty ; and that he will 
 either avert every mifchief they meditate 
 againft us, or will caufe whatever evil they 
 may be permitted to inflict, to turn to our 
 advantage." 
 
 The Colonel read the foregoing narrative 
 in a very serious and impreffive manner. 
 At firft the eyes of Emily and Fanny were 
 fixed fteadily upon him, and they lcarcely 
 
 ventured
 
 EMILY. 187 
 
 ventured to move : towards the conclufion 
 they felt more at cafe, and their eyes bright- 
 ened with their accuftomed cheerfulnefs. The 
 fervants fhowed various degrees of anxiety, 
 fear, and furprize. No one was more at- 
 tentive than the cook-maid. She fcreamed 
 at the defcription of " the clanking chains," 
 and liltened with wild amaze to the account 
 of "the clock ftriking twelve," and the ap- 
 pearance of " the tail armed figure with 
 waving plumes, who fpoke not a w r ord." 
 
 Emily, when afked what fhe thought of 
 the ftory, ventured to fay, with a face fuf- 
 fufed v\ ith blufhes — " That Sir Martin was 
 too curious, but ihe was glad, very glad in- 
 deed, as he was fo good and brave, that he 
 efcaped from the old caftle without injury." 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. XVII. 
 
 <4 There is not a more promiling fign in a young 
 perfon, than a rcadinefs to hear the advice of thole 
 whofe age and experience qualify them for judging 
 maturely. 
 
 " Life is a journey, and they only who have tra- 
 velled a confidcrable way in it, are fit to direct thofe 
 who are letting out." 
 
 Burgh's Dignity of Human Nature. 
 
 1 he next time the Lorton and Harriot 
 families met, the Colonel related what had 
 paned, and favoured Dr. Harriot and Ed- 
 ward with the perufal of the ftory of Sir 
 Martin, and the haunted caftle. They ex- 
 preffed great approbation of the method the 
 Colonel had taken to diveft his family of 
 their terrours with regard to ghofts, and the 
 
 Doctor
 
 EMILY, 169 
 
 Doctor highly applauded the religious turn 
 wiven to the conclusion of the narrative. 
 
 The frequent vifits of the two families now 
 tending towards ibnie intereiting explana- 
 tions, were interrupted by the departure of 
 Emily to London. 
 
 Mrs. Wilfon, a diitant relation of her mo- 
 ther, who, as has been before hinted, had 
 lent the Colonel a fum of money for the im- 
 provement of his eitate, earneltly requeited 
 her company to pals fome time with her in 
 town. The reafon me urged was, that fhe 
 wiihed to Strengthen her connection with his 
 family, for which fhe profeffed a great re- 
 gard, and was very defirous to give Emily 
 the advantages of completing her education, 
 and being introduced into iuch Society as me 
 had no opportunity of feeing at home. The 
 Colonel thought this vifit likely to prove 
 highly advantageous to his daughter in all 
 thefe refpecls ; and as he was under fuch 
 obligations to Mrs. Wilfon, he was anxious 
 to accede to her propofal, particularly as 
 ■Mrs. Mapleton concurred with him in opi- 
 nion.
 
 190 EMILY. 
 
 nion. He wrote to Mrs. V/ilfon, to exprefs 
 his ready acceptance of her offer, not fuf- 
 pecting, as he had heard little of her mode 
 of life, for a considerable time, that fhe had 
 made a great progrefs in difiipation. 
 
 " I am going" faid Colonel Lorton to 
 Emily, 1 to give Mrs. Wiifon the greateft 
 proof of my confidence, by placing you un- 
 der her care. I well know, that at prefent 
 for my fake, and very loon for your own, as 
 me cannot be infenfible to your merit, ihe 
 will render you every act of kindnefs ; — but 
 there are attentions which (lie is unable to 
 pay to you. 
 
 " With refpect to manners, and all the 
 exterior poliih of faihionable life, you can- 
 not have a better inftruclor; but as I am 
 apprehenfive of her neglecb of what I deem 
 far more effential to your future comfort and 
 happinefs, I muft endeavour to fupply the 
 deficiency, and attend to the moral difcipline 
 of your mind. I muft keep you upon the alert, 
 my dear Emily, as I ufed to do my regiment. 
 There muft be vigilance to prevent defertion, 
 
 and
 
 EMILY. 191 
 
 and occupation to exclude idleriefs — we muit 
 take care to guard againft that infidious, 
 fubtle, and infinuating enemy, an exceffive 
 love of Pleafure, and all will be well. — Sup- 
 pofe we agree to keep up a regular corre- 
 spondence ?" 
 
 " Nothing, my dear Sir," laid Emily, 
 " will give me more plealiire : and from the 
 variety of objects I mall fee, and the nume- 
 rous parties into which I fhall be introduced, 
 I think I mall not want fubjects to enter- 
 tain YOU." 
 
 " In my letters to you," (aid the Colonel,. 
 " it will be my endeavour, in conformity 
 with the former courfe of your education, to 
 Strengthen your religious principles, to im- 
 prove you in various branches of knowledge, 
 and to fix your attention upon fuch topics as 
 may enrich, refine, and enlarge your mind, 
 I 111 all direct you to fubje6ts rather ufeful, 
 than ornamental ; and thus I fhall enable 
 you to lay up a valuable ftock of wifdom 
 and knowledge for future years ; for mould 
 you marry , you will thus be better qualified 
 
 both
 
 192 EMILY. 
 
 bolh to communicate information to your 
 children, and to be a judge of the instruc- 
 tions moft proper for them to receive : or if 
 you remain Jittg/e, your hours of leifure, un- 
 interrupted by the cares of a family, may be 
 moft pleafantly filled up by purfuing, to any 
 extent you pleafe, your progrefs in ufeful 
 ftudies." 
 
 " Such purfuits, my dear father," faid 
 Emily, " will have every claim to my beft 
 attention, particularly as they will be en- 
 deared by your recommendation." 
 
 " Never forget," continued the Colonel, 
 " the ineltimable value of Time: it is a trea- 
 fure entrulted to our care, and we are re- 
 fponfible to our great Creator for the ufe we 
 make of it. Time once gone is loft for ever ; 
 and you may as well attempt to call back the 
 rapid ftream of the Greeta, or itop the clouds 
 now flying over Borrowdale, as recover the 
 hours that are gone. The ftream, the clouds, 
 and the hours all move with a courfe we 
 cannot control, and are all equally irrevo- 
 cable. 
 
 " Look
 
 EMl'EYV 19 
 
 ;i 
 
 fi Look upon every day as a blank leaf 
 of a memorandum-book, given to you to fill 
 up with notices of fome ufeful, or at leaft 
 fome harmlefs employment; and remember 
 that whatever you write in it, can never be 
 blotted out. Take care therefore not to in- 
 fert any thing that will excite the blufh of 
 fhame, or the tear of regret. I hope you 
 will read every one of thefe memoranda with 
 pleafure fifty years hence, and you will do 
 well to think now, in what manner you will 
 then wifh you had patted this prime of your 
 life. 
 
 " Above all things, my Emily, avoid idle- 
 nefs, for it is not only allied to folly, but to 
 vice. Be affured too that it reduces a per- 
 fon to a very vexatious and even painful 
 ftate : I never knew an idler who was not 
 infinitely more perplexed and uncomfortable 
 for want of fomethins; to do, than the dili- 
 gent ever are when doing what they ought. 
 
 " With regard to the fubjeEts of your let- 
 ters to me, I wifh to leave them intirely to 
 your own choice, in order that you may write 
 
 vol. i. o to
 
 tQ4 EMILY. 
 
 to me with fpiiit and pleaiure, for I prefer- 
 half a dozen lines written from the heart, at 
 the moment you are animated by fome fa- 
 vourite fubjecl, to whole fheets compofed 
 with reluctance, merely becaule you are un- 
 der the necefiity of corvefponding witia your 
 father. Leave journals to failors and travel- 
 lers, and imitate Mifs Byron, the heroine of 
 Sir Charles Grandifon, in every thing but 
 her prolix details of minute occurrences.'' 
 
 " Thefe kind exprefiions of your reliance 
 on my judgment," faid Emily, " I will en- 
 deavour to deferve. Upon whatever fubjecls 
 I mall think of fufticient importance to com- 
 municate, I am refolved to w r rite without re- 
 ferve : for by concealing any circumftances-. 
 which it is my duty to impart, or by drefling 
 them up in deceitful colours, ihall I not for- 
 fake the path of truth, which your example 
 as well as your inftruclions have always- 
 taught me to purfue? Shall I not forfeit 
 your love, without which my life would ceafe 
 to be an enjoyment?" 
 
 In the courfe of the converfation, Emily 
 8 difcovered
 
 EMILY, 195 
 
 uncovered figns of dejection — c: I am going," 
 laid ihe, " to London, into fccnes of ele- 
 gance and refinement; but educated, as I 
 have been, in the country, and confcious of 
 my ilender abilities and attainments, I mail 
 appear to great difadvantage among thofe 
 girls, who have had every affiftance to im- 
 prove their talents, and are adorned with 
 the moft faihionable accomplishments." 
 
 " Take courage, my dear/' replied her fa- 
 ther, " and be allured, that among perfons 
 of found fenfe, fuch unailuming fimplicity of 
 character, and defire to pleafe, as you pollels, 
 will be fufficient recommendations to notice 
 and efteem. Nor are you fo deficient in ac- 
 complishments as your diffidence induces you 
 to fuppofe ; and if you ihould prove inferior 
 to many ladies of faihion, who I have heard 
 are finilhed painters, mulicians, and dancers, 
 you will have this confolation — as you neither 
 challenge competition, nor demand praife, you 
 will awaken no jealoufy ; fince they will not 
 confider you as a rival, they may be plealed 
 to give you many ufeful hints as an admirer 
 
 o2 of
 
 196 EMILY. 
 
 of their talents, and a humble imitator of their 
 excellence. The London ladies may boaft 
 of more fhowy attainments, but they cannot 
 juftly pride themfelves upon inftructions, 
 which have objects in view fuperior to your 
 own. Leave to them the oitentatious difplay 
 of accomplishments, envy them not the fruits 
 of forced cultivation, which only impoverifh 
 the foil of the mind, and make it incapable 
 of producing future plenty. If I have pur- 
 fued a right method with you, the propriety 
 of my plan will be juftified by the courfe of 
 events, and the progrefs of time, when you 
 will be placed in new fituations, and be 
 obliged to act for yourfelf ; when prudence 
 and refolution mult be called into action, 
 and you mult practife the leffons you have 
 been taught. If the Virtues go before, I 
 iliall be glad to have the Graces follow in 
 their train ; but the facrifice by which their 
 favour is to be obtained muft not be made 
 at the expenie of principle, or by the neglect 
 of any part of moral cultivation. 
 
 CHAP.
 
 CHAP. XVIII. 
 
 Tell how her manners, by the world rchVd, 
 
 Left all the taint of modifh vice behind ; 
 
 And made each charm of polilh'd crowds agree 
 
 With candid Truth's fimplicity, 
 
 And uncorrupted Innocence ; 
 
 Tell — how to more than manly fenfe, 
 
 She join'd the foftening influence 
 
 Of more than female tendernefs. 
 
 Lord Lyttleton's Monody. 
 
 As foon as Edward heard Emily was gone 
 to London, confidering himfelf as cut off, he 
 knew not for how long a period, from her 
 delightful fociety, vexation and forrow took 
 pofleffion of his mind. Fortunately, the fum- 
 mer vacation was expired, and he found no 
 inconliderable relief from his feelings of un- 
 happinefs in change of place, and returning 
 to his ftudies and his companions in the 
 univerfity. 
 
 When
 
 198 EMILY. 
 
 When Emily arrived in town, me met with 
 a very eordial reception from Mrs. Wilfon. 
 That lady was the widow of a rich mer- 
 chant, who left her a very handfome fortune. 
 In addition to an excellent houfe in town 
 fhe had an elegant villa at IJampftead. She 
 had married when very young againft the 
 confent of her parents, and unlike her coufin, 
 Mrs. Lorton, in every refpe6t except her fa- 
 cial difpofition, ilie had been fpoiled by too 
 much indulgence ; fhe had been unchecked by 
 thofe falutary refhaints in the early part of 
 life, which however irkfome at the time, be- 
 come ultimately invaluable benefits, as ge- 
 neral experience proves, and every fenfible 
 perfon, who has fubmitted to them, is willing 
 to acknowledge. 
 
 Fafhion was the idol which Mrs. Wilfon 
 worfhipped : fhe difplayed all its exceffes in 
 her drefs, furniture, and equipage, and her 
 choice of the various articles fhe thought 
 neeeffary to keep up her celebrity was often 
 dictated by the moft ihort-lived caprice. At 
 one time the Mandarin, Seve, or Drefden 
 
 porcelain
 
 EMILY. 19$ 
 
 rxsixx lain were all the rage — at another fhe 
 •affected to be patriotic, and aflertcd the fu- 
 perior excellence of Britifh manufactures, 
 and tlien her rooms were decorated with 
 Worcefter and Derby china. One day 'her 
 dreffmg-tables, cabinets, and commodes, were 
 all of fatin-wood ; on another, they were ex- 
 changed for rofe, and the chairs and fofas 
 lately covered with iilk, were foon after en- 
 veloped in chintz. She was equally as muta- 
 ble in regard to her carriages, the fafhion of 
 her liveries, and the choice of her lap-dogs. 
 
 Although Ike always rofe very late, much 
 time hung heavy upon her hands : ihe how- 
 ever contrived to get rid of many hours by her 
 morning calls — that is, by driving from ftreet 
 to ftreet, and hearing her footman thunder at 
 the doors of her friends ; but the would 
 have been mocked at the awkward and em- 
 barrafiing vulgarity of any one of their por- 
 ters, had he told the truth, and informed 
 her that his miftrefs was at home. 
 
 In fhort, fmce the time Colonel Lorton 
 had kit vifited Airs. Wilfon, or heard much 
 
 of
 
 200 EMILY. 
 
 of her habits of life, ihe had made great 
 progrefs in what ihe thought refinement. 
 She was well verfed in the language of po- 
 lite affectation. She pro felled to be trans- 
 ported with joy if one lady came early to 
 her houfe, and ihe was almoft dead with 
 fear that fome difaiter had happened if ano- 
 ther arrived late. She bewailed Mils C.'s 
 misfortune, becaufe ihe had broke;, one of 
 her bracelets ; and as her grief was always 
 in exacl proportion to the rank of her vilitors, 
 
 ihe told Lady O ihe had been much 
 
 diftreifed ever iince ihe heard of her havinir 
 loft an ear-ring at the Opera; and ihe allured 
 
 the Duchefs of S- , in the moft forrowful 
 
 tone, flie had been abfolutely inconlblable, 
 becaufe fome villain had run away with her 
 Grace's lap-dog. 
 
 The evening after Emily arrived in Lon- 
 don, Mrs. Wilfon gave a concert and fupper, 
 to which all her acquaintance, without any 
 regard to their various ranks and iituations 
 in life, were invited. Her exceflive vanity 
 prompted her to attempt to rival entertain* 
 
 ments
 
 EMILY. 5201 
 
 merits given by ladies of large fortune and 
 high rank, to which ihe had once or twice 
 been invited. 
 
 The inceflant thundering; at the door for 
 fome hours announced the arrival of the 
 vifitors : their carriages rattled through the 
 fquare, and their fervants thronged the hall. 
 They confiited chiefly of thofe volatile cha- 
 racters, who are mitigated by the reigning 
 rage for focicty to go to every place, and 
 know every perion ; who are gregarious ra- 
 ther than fociable, and often aflemble for no 
 other purpoie than to gaze at each other, 
 and ridicule the perfon who gives the party. 
 
 Mrs. Wil fon's company was as mifcella- 
 neous as the means adopted to entertain 
 them were extravagant : they confiited partly 
 of the acquaintance of her late hulband, and 
 partly of thofe Ihe had made fince her re- 
 moval into her prefent more falhionable refi- 
 dence. They came from the eaft and the 
 weft ends of the town : there were merchants 
 from Mark-lane, elbowing peers from Port- 
 land-place, city ladies and courtly countefles ; 
 
 mifTes
 
 milTes in their teens and antiquated maids ; 
 
 cvvs of the guards and captains of the 
 Tower Hamlets; Bond-ftreet loungers and 
 'Cheapiide bucks. Such a crowd compretfed 
 into a fmall place changed the atmofphere of 
 the apartments, and produced the climate of 
 Calcutta in tlie meridian of London. 
 
 A month's preparation had icarcely been 
 fuiiicient for the reception of thefe motley 
 groupes : carpenters, cabinet-makers, con- 
 fectioners, and cooks, had been bulily em- 
 ployed to contribute their iliares to this oc- 
 •caiion ; and half a year's income would have 
 been infufficient to defray the whole expence, 
 had Mrs. Wilfon been fo old-falhioned as to 
 make the prompt payment of her bills ; but 
 fo fond was me of having; her name recorded 
 in a tradefmans book, that me never paid, 
 even for a pair of gloves, if credit would be 
 a. fuhititute for money. 
 
 Much good furniture had been exchanged 
 for more ftylifh decorations of inferior ufe 
 and value. Two apartments upon the ground- 
 floor were laid into one, in order to give the 
 
 appear-
 
 EMILY. £0o 
 
 appearance of a confervatory. Geraniums, 
 laurels, myrtles and orange-trees were ar- 
 ranged in large vales: various flowers adorned 
 a gay parterre ; and upon alight trellis, which 
 crofled the room in different directions, were 
 entwined branches of vines, from which hung 
 bunches of the moft expenfive grapes. 
 
 The colour of the drawing-room, which 
 was newly fitted up to ferve as a concert- 
 room, was Iky-blue, with gold-bordered pan- 
 nels : the draperies were of crimfon-fatin, 
 and the curtains were embroidered with 
 white velvet. While the eyes of the com* 
 pany were dazzled by thefe rich colours, 
 their cars were treated with the moft coltiy 
 founds. The vocal performers were of the 
 firft order, and did Mrs. Wilfon the honour of 
 accepting her notes in return for their own ; 
 they gained more by an hour's attendance 
 to fmg two or three airs, than a curate, who 
 performs the moil facred of all duties, or a 
 foldier, who fights the battles of his country, 
 is paid in a year. 
 
 The
 
 204 EMILY. 
 
 The tables in the fuppcr-room were co- 
 vered with prof ufe delicacies, and the crowded 
 guefts were regaled with various liqueurs and 
 wines. It was however the etiquette to regard 
 the tables as prefenting a treat rather to the 
 eye than to the palate: the afparagus wanted 
 colour, as much as the ducklings wanted 
 tafte ; thofe who ate any of the premature 
 dainties of the feafon remarked, that the 
 peas, ftrawberries, and cherries, tinged with 
 the fickly hues of forced vegetation, were 
 perfectly infipid ; and they fufpe&ed the 
 liqueurs were town-made, and that the Cham- 
 pagne and Old Hock had not been long 
 imported from a neighbouring cider-cellar. 
 This conjecture was not improbable, as Mrs. 
 Wilfon was fupplied with every article of 
 this expenfive feaft by contract, and had 
 every thing of the worft quality upon the 
 moft extravagant terms. 
 
 Emily was ftruck with wonder upon this 
 novel occalion; for her fenfes were con- 
 founded by the number, the buitle, and the 
 inceffant loquacity of the company. She 
 
 was
 
 EMILY. £05 
 
 was at firft amufed with the fplendid and 
 gay concourfe of belles waving oftrich fea- 
 thers, and beaux dangling opera hats; but 
 iimple and unaccuftomed to mix in fo large 
 a party, the felt a deep fenfe of her own in- 
 lignificance ; and the only pleafure ihe en- 
 joyed was to retire, as foon as propriety 
 allowed, to her own apartment, there to 
 meditate on what fhe had feen. 
 
 " Why," thought me, " this wafte of mo- 
 ney, this parade rather than enjoyment of 
 a feaft, this confufion of night with dav ? all 
 which only attract a crowd to give them an 
 opportunity to laugh at the expenfive exer- 
 tions made to regale them, and to complain 
 of diftrefies of their own creating. One lady 
 was miferable, becaufe me had loft the party 
 fhe came with ; another exclaimed 11 le was 
 fuffocated with heat ; and a third told a 
 difaftrous ftory of a pannel of her newly- 
 painted carriage being broken in attempting 
 to pafs another in the fquare. But thefe 
 faihionable people are thoughtlefs and cruel, 
 as well as felf-tormentor?, for they forget that 
 
 while
 
 '206 EMILY. 
 
 while they are overpowering themfelves with 
 heat in crowded rooms, their fervants and 
 horfes are fhivering with cold in the ftreets 
 till break of day, and yet how angry they 
 would be, if any one was even to hint at 
 their inhumanity ? They are unmindful that 
 although they have all their time at their 
 command, they are pafiing in unfeafonable 
 diffipation the hours of night deftined by 
 Nature to repofe. At the period their (lum- 
 bers will commence this morning, were I at 
 Lorton Houfe I mould be rifms to hail the 
 return of the light and the fun, or perhaps 
 be employed in reading, or playing on my 
 piano forte." 
 
 Deeply imprefied by thefe reflections, and 
 little relifhing this initiation into the buttle of 
 fashionable life, Emily wifhed herfelf at home. 
 She had now no garden, where fhe could 
 itray unobferved and at eafe with Fanny 
 Flowerdale ; me was excluded from " each 
 rural fight, each rural found." Surrounded 
 on all lides by long-extended ftreets, and 
 breathing an air impregnated with fmoke, 
 
 Ihe
 
 EMILY. SI07 
 
 fFic could remark no beauties of the ad- 
 vancing fpring. She could not hear the 
 cooing of the doves from the tall elms in 
 Lorton Grove; — no bleating of lambs upon 
 the Borrowdale mountains. She never went 
 out but in company with Mrs. Wilfon, to 
 make a formal promenade in the fquare, or 
 attended that lady, cooped up in her carri- 
 age, to pay dull vilits of ceremony. She 
 would have expreifed to her father her defire 
 of returning home, had {he not formed high 
 expectations of improvement from the mal» 
 ters who were to inftrucl; her in dancing, 
 umiie, and drawing. 
 
 No (boner was Emily introduced by Mrs, 
 Wilfon to the large circle of her acquaint- 
 ance, than the became the object of much 
 intereft — fuch was the fweetnefs of her tem- 
 per, her affability was fo engaging, and her 
 manners were fo unaffuming, that me had 
 the rare felicity to efcape the envy of her 
 own fex, and even to obtain their praile. 
 All the moft cenforious had to object was — - 
 that her complexion was too ruddy, and 
 
 that
 
 208 EMILY*. 
 
 that it was a pity fo fine a giri as Mife 
 Lorton, had been fo long buried in the 
 country, and had not fooner received the 
 advantages of a failiionable polifh at fome 
 fmiming fehool in London. 
 
 If great attention was paid to her by 
 the ladies, it is natural to fuppofe the gen- 
 tlemen would be particularly affiduous in 
 their endeavours to gain her notice. She 
 was foon furrounded by a crowd of ad- 
 mirers ; but although her charms caught 
 every eye, and there were few young men 
 of faihion, who did not feize every oppor- 
 tunity of addreflmg the moft complimentary 
 fpeeches to her, yet her native modelty by 
 giving her an air of referve, awed them into 
 refpecl, and kept them at a diftance. She 
 was grateful for their efforts to pleafe her, 
 her mind however was fo truly noble and free 
 from vanity, that me was rather amufed 
 than gratified, even by their moft delicate 
 flattery. 
 
 THE
 
 THE 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 wsrvwri^ 
 
 At this period commenced the correfpond 4 
 ence between Colonel Lorton and his daugh- 
 ter, and it was carried on for more than two 
 years, during her ftay at Mrs. Wilton's. 
 They conducted it in fuch a manner, as did 
 honour to them both, and contributed to 
 their mutual fatisfaction ; for their commu- 
 nications were always cordial, and unre- 
 ferved. Emily gave her father a very en- 
 tertaining account of the company fhe was 
 introduced to ; her defcriptions of charac- 
 ters ihowed great acutenefs of observation, 
 and was often enlivened by touches of ge- 
 nuine humour, and delicate pleafantry ; but 
 as fhe had the ftri&eft regard for pro- 
 
 vol. i. p priety
 
 210 THE CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 priety and truth, and was always influenced 
 by genuine goodnefs of heart, her defcrip- 
 tions were neither weakened by prolixity, 
 fwelled by exaggeration, nor degraded by 
 fcandal. 
 
 Her father, on his part, endeavoured to 
 fulfil his promife by making his Letters as 
 inftruclive as he could. They were the fruits 
 of his moft diligent inquiries, and deliberate 
 reflections. He often gave up his walks and 
 rides, and even interrupted the iuperintend- 
 ance of his favourite farm, and the infpec- 
 tion of the labours of his workmen, when 
 any fubject for a Letter to Emily occurred to 
 him. 
 
 And this Correfpondence was no fmall 
 iblace and relief for her long abfence, dur- 
 ing which he had the more eafy talk of edu- 
 cation, to confirm virtuous habits rather 
 than to inftil the firft principles ; and well 
 knowing that Emily was fond of variety, he 
 diverfified his fubjecls, as far as lie judged 
 to be confident with the due cultivation of 
 her mind, 
 
 The
 
 THE CORRESPONDENCE. 211 
 
 The following Letters are felected from 
 the number Colonel Lorton wrote to Emily. 
 They arofe from the occaiions alluded to 
 in them, and each will be found to have a 
 reference to fome principle of religion, or 
 fome topic of ufeful knowledge ; and all by 
 their united influence conduce to raife the 
 mind above the levities of fafhion, the dan- 
 ger of diffipation, and the folly of frivolous 
 purfuits, and fix it upon its molt important 
 duties, and moft beneficial impiovement 
 
 % LETTER
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 COLONEL LORTON TO HIS DAUGHTER. 
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 
 
 Your remarks upon the practice of the 
 young ladies of your acquaintance in Jx>n- 
 don, as well as my own obfervations upon 
 thofe I meet with in the country convince 
 me, that the eagernefs for acquiring accom- 
 plilhments is become a general fafhion, and 
 girls are obliged to employ by far too much 
 of their time in attemping to be proficients 
 in dancing, drawing, and more particularly 
 in mufic. I can fee no objection to a girl, 
 in a genteel fituation in life, learning and 
 purfuing any of them, if fhe has a genius for 
 it ; but in the name of propriety, I wife to 
 proteft againft that indifcriminate rage for 
 accomplishments, which now pervades all 
 
 ranks
 
 214 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 
 
 ranks — from the daughter of a duke to the 
 daughter of a farmer ; as if female education 
 could not be complete, unlefs all girls above 
 the degree of a peafant, were educated ex- 
 actly in the fame manner, and the whole 
 harmony and welfare of fociety depended 
 upon being taught to play upon the piano 
 forte, and ling Italian fongs. 
 
 At the time I make this obfervation, I am 
 not at ail inclined to detract from the advan- 
 tages that are generally alcribed to accom- 
 paniments. They . undoubtedly (erve to fill 
 up in an agreeable and harmlefs manner 
 many vacant hours. Mufic and dancing are 
 excellent fubftitutes for card-playing, which 
 although it may anfwer the purpofe of thole 
 who are advancing in life, as the moft agree- 
 able method of palling many of their hours, 
 is certainly not lo well adapted to the ac- 
 tive difpoiition, and the vivacity of the 
 young. Muiic, the moft fafhionable of all 
 accompliftiments, has a tendency to foften 
 the temper, and improve the tafte ; and if a 
 girl has a genius for it, ihe cannot fail to 
 
 acquire
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 21,5 
 
 acquire in the progrefs of her improvement 
 a refined pleafure, which is much heightened 
 by the conii deration, that the communicates 
 to others, while ihe is playing, a great fhare 
 of the delight flic feels. 
 
 The influence of thefe accomplhliments is 
 extenfive and powerful ; for what man ia 
 there of lb morofe a temper, as not to be 
 fcniible of the additional attractions thev be- 
 ftow upon their fair pofleflbr. Their effects 
 are evident in the looks of delight, and. the 
 cxprefiions of approbation winch are bellowed 
 by their friends upon fuch young females, as 
 can ling and play with tafte, correclnefs, 
 and fpirit, — as can fhow the elegant produc- . 
 tions of their pencil, or like the graces, can 
 " trip on the light fantaftic toe." 
 
 Having made thefe allowances in favour 
 of accomplifliments, I now wilh you to con- 
 lider their relative value. By relative I mean 
 as they are connected with the well being- 
 and happinefs of mortals, whofc life is lliort, 
 who are accountable for the ufe of their 
 lime, and have various duties to perform ; 
 
 who
 
 i2l6 THE IMPROVEMENT OT THE MIND. 
 
 who are fent into the world not only to at- 
 tract the attention of admirers by external 
 graces, but are defigned to infpire affection, 
 and dtforve efteem by their amiable temper*, 
 good fenfe, and improved underftandings : 
 and if they enter into the married ftate, the 
 difcharge of the moft ufeful and important 
 duties, may reafonably be expected from 
 them, as the mothers of families, and the 
 guides of their children in the paths of reli- 
 gion and ufeful knowledge. 
 
 A little reflection will, I hope, convince 
 you, that mere accompliihments cannot 
 fecure the qualifications necefTary to form 
 thefe important characters, as they afford no 
 moral or literary improvement to the mind : 
 they can neither make you more virtuous, 
 nor more wife ; they have more of the me- 
 chanical, than the intelleSnal in them, and 
 they empioy the eyes, the hands, and the 
 feet, rather than the underftanding, the head, 
 and the heart. 
 
 In iliort, they are fuperficial, the mere 
 appendages to youth and beauty : and do 
 
 not
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 217 
 
 not constitute their folic! and permanent ex- 
 cellence. They are to the miod what fringe 
 and lace and ribbons are to your drefs, not 
 its effential parts, but its plealing embellifli- 
 ments. Tims the trellis entwined with 
 flowers in the front of a houfe, or the or- 
 naments that decorate the Corinthian pillar, 
 are both of them beautiful to the eye; but 
 neither is abfolutely necefTary, or conducive 
 to the fupport or uies of the building. 
 
 How foon is the feafon of accompliih- 
 ments gone, when the iingle is changed for 
 the married ftate ! Of dancing few opportu- 
 nities may occur to the wife ; forfaken are 
 her pencils, or they are only taken up again 
 to amufe her children ; and how rare is it to 
 find her piano-forte kept in tune, when the 
 cares of the mother have fucceeded to the 
 amufements of the girl. How long does ihe 
 continue her. application to mufic, for the 
 mere intrinfic pleafure of the practice? If 
 ihe has a family, ihe can have little time to 
 fpare for Mozart, or Haydn, and if ihe 
 has a good tafte, ihe will foon prefer to her 
 
 own
 
 218 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIN». 
 
 own imperfect and ■interrupted performances, 
 the more indolent pleafure of hearing the 
 beft mufic at a regular concert. 
 
 If then the reign of thefe accomplifhments 
 is fo fhorr, and they are likely to be fuper- 
 leded by other occupations, as you advance 
 in life, you muft be convinced, that they arc 
 rather to be valued for conferring prefent 
 ftmufement, than for any permanent and 
 long continued advantages ; of courfe they 
 cannot be brought into competition with 
 nfeful knowledge, and folid improvement. 
 
 And by what methods you may alk mo, 
 can fuch acquirements be made ? 
 
 I anfvver, by attending to the convcria- 
 tion of the virtuous, the ingenious, the wife, 
 and the experienced, and by the perufal of 
 well chofen books. The former is highly 
 defirable, and one of the molt rational ob- 
 jects of your ambition : but as you cannot 
 always gain admittance into the moft im- 
 proving company, you muft find out the 
 beft fubftitute for it you can. Deprived of 
 the fociety of your excellent Friends Mrs. 
 
 Mapleton
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 219 
 
 Mapleton and Dr. Marriot; you muft feek 
 inftruction and entertainment in the page* 
 of Addifon, Johnfon, and the Marchionefs 
 de Lambert. And you may be aflured, that 
 as long as I can command money, after 
 providing for the fupply of our common 
 comforts, you fhall never be without the 
 company of thofe filent monitors of life, thofe 
 inoftbniive and plealing companions, thofe 
 anodynes of the troubled mind, which a well 
 chofen library can always fupply. 
 
 Recollecl the advice I gave you on the 
 neceflity of improving your time. Employ 
 fome portion of every day in reading, tran- 
 fcribing iele6l pan 1 ages from the beft authors, 
 and committing the moft plealing of them 
 to memory. In the courfe of your read- 
 ing, endeavour to form a habit of clofe at- 
 tention. Give your mind to your author, 
 remembering that whatever is worth doing 
 at all, is worth doing well ; and never flatter 
 yourfelf, that a book, which may be replete 
 with genius, learning, or acute obfervations, 
 perhaps the tardy fruit of many a ftudious, 
 
 year, 
 9
 
 <22G THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 
 
 year, and the moft elaborate effort of an 
 author's Hie can he fully comprehended by 
 a fuperrieial reader, who turns over the 
 pages, as fait as ihe can. You may almoft 
 as well fuppofe, that you can fee all the 
 company at a crowded rout or ball, the 
 moment you enter the room; or can dif- 
 tmguifh with one glance of your eye, all the 
 lakes, rivers, valiies, and villages, that may 
 be feen from the top of Skiddaw, or Hel- 
 veilin. 
 
 If you read too haflihj, you will learn 
 nothing, and the ideas of an author will 
 glide before your mind like the virions of a 
 dream ; they will be broken, confufed, and 
 tranfient. If you read with attention, you 
 will fee the fcope of a work, and compre- 
 hend the full meaning of an author; you 
 will ftrengthen your memory, as well as ex- 
 ercile your judgment, and you will have 
 abundant reafon to be pleaied with your 
 own acquisitions of knowledge, which will 
 be highly valuable, either as fubjcel.s for 
 folitary reflection, or practical ufe. 
 
 Every
 
 THE IMPKOVEMF.NT OF THE MIND. £2 i 
 
 Every inducement confpires to direct your 
 attention to well feleetcd books, as a prin- 
 cipal means to enrich and adorn your mind. 
 To your fex whofe fituations in life are ne- 
 ceflarily more retired ^and domeftic than 
 thole of men, books are of peculiar ufe, as 
 they enlarge your views of the world, and 
 correct the wrong and contracted opinions 
 you may be apt to form of mankind. They 
 may be recommended to women for the 
 fame reafon they are to princes, as antidotes 
 to ignorance and flattery — Books will mow 
 them many a ufeful example, and teach 
 them many a wholefome truth, which fome 
 of the perfons who mrround them cannot, 
 and others will not communicate to them. 
 
 Books are the refources of folitude, and 
 the foothers of care — they can render you 
 independant of the world for amufement, 
 and give you, whenever you pleafe, a quiet 
 and rational entertainment in exchange for 
 noife and crouds. They hold out an in- 
 ducement for you to retire from the imper- 
 tinence of the vain, and the folly of the. ig- 
 norant,
 
 222 THE IMRRQVEMENT 02 THE MIND. 
 
 norant, to enjoy the wit, the learning and 
 the experience of feniible men of all ages 
 and countries. They provide an eflectual 
 antidote againft that Ennui, which fatally 
 preys upon the diflipated and the idle, they 
 prevent the neceffity of frivolous amufe- 
 inents, and ceiiforious conversation, and by 
 furnidiing new and entertaining topics for 
 converfation multiply the materials and en- 
 hance the value of focial enjoyments. 
 
 Reading may be made a focial, as well as 
 a folitary occupation. Thus one perfon may 
 entertain many others in a domeftic party, 
 and they may make the valuable difcovery, 
 that their hours may be agreeably palled 
 without the neceffity of playing at cards, or 
 talking down their neighbour**. 
 
 I am confident if you recollect the plea- 
 sure we ufed to enjoy in our reading hours 
 in Cumberland, you will acknowledge tlie 
 excellence of this plan. With it hat impati- 
 ence did we anticipate the arrival of any new 
 and improving work ; with what ardour did 
 we perufe it ; on what rapid wings did our 
 
 hours
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF-THE MIND. 2*3 
 
 hours of ftudy fly away, and what copious 
 materials did we collect for converlation 
 during our walks and rides. 
 
 It is doubtlefs very natural for a womnu 
 who has been once celebrated for a hand- 
 fome perfon to be deiirous of fuppoi ting' her 
 reputation for it by every method her inge- 
 nuity can devife. She cannot eafily give up 
 her darling idea of pleating by the fame 
 mean* now ihe is old, which me pofTefled in 
 her youth ; and lhe wifhes to keep the fame 
 command over lier admirers : but, alas ! 
 they fee not the flowers of the fpring in the 
 the decline of autumn or in the frofts of 
 winter, though ihe may with them to do fo ; 
 they have not been inattentive obfervers of 
 the progrefs of age, they have remarked its 
 ravages, and are prepared to transfer their 
 praifes to other beauties now flourilhing and 
 in their prime. 
 
 Such a woman may do well to confider 
 how ilie diners from thofe girls who furround 
 her, and who are now in pofleffion of thofe 
 attractions ihe no longer retains. Surely 
 
 thefe
 
 224 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MINI*. 
 
 thefe remarks may confirm your perfuafiort 
 how necefTary it is to acquire that mental 
 beauty, and thofe charms of a cultivated un 
 Handing, which can furvive the bloom of 
 complexion, and will ilourifh, when the gaiety 
 of youth is no more. 
 
 Some part of the moft pleafing and ufeful 
 knowledge may be drawn from books, by 
 occasionally confulting them. The name of 
 a perfon, place, plant, animal, or other pro- 
 duction of nature or art mentioned in con- 
 verfation, or a newspaper ; a building, 
 river, or town obferved in the courfe of a 
 journey, frequently excite our curiolity : wc 
 want to know more particulars concerning 
 them, than we can collect, upon the road, 
 and we have a very lively feeling of this 
 w r ant. Purfue the inquiry the firft opportu- 
 nity you can apply to books of reference, 
 and you will have great fatisfaction in thefe 
 accidental additions to your knowledge : you 
 will retain them with much greater eafe, 
 than any other topic, in which you were 
 not fo particularly interested, and when the 
 
 lame
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 225 
 
 fame fubje6ts occur again, you may be able 
 to give information inftead of being obliged 
 to alk it, and perhaps to afk in vain* 
 
 If I thought your reading had the moft 
 diftant tendency to make you vain and ar- 
 rogant, I mould caution you againft ever 
 looking into any books, except your bible 
 and prayer book. While you are acquiring 
 ideas in common with the other fex, you 
 muft ftill nouriili that modeft refer ve, which 
 is the faireft ornament of your own. Make, 
 I defire you, no attempt at difplay to bring 
 forward your knowledge, left you " over- 
 ftep the modefty of nature." 
 
 The beauty of learning is never fo fafci- 
 nating, as when feen through the veil of dif- 
 fidence. Cultivate that fenfe of propriety, 
 which is at once the guard and the charm of 
 every female virtue. And be affured, my 
 Emily, that the learning and talents of a 
 Montague, a Carter, or a Barbault, would lofe 
 half their value, unlefs accompanied by the 
 gentlenefs of manners and delicacy of mind, 
 
 vol. i, q which
 
 £26 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIXB. 
 
 which are I believe juftly attributed to thofe 
 diftinguifhed ladies. 
 
 Prellimption and conceit are the fure figns 
 of fupeilicial attainments : the fcioliit 'ftands, 
 as it were, in a low vale, and can fee but a 
 little way before him. The true fcholar, as 
 he is higher advanced, can command a more 
 extenfive profpeft, but he perceives hills 
 rifing above hills around him, and his pre- 
 fumption is abated by the reflection, that 
 the ftiortnefs of life allows him only time 
 to travel over a fmall part of the wide re- 
 gions of knowledge. Who was a greater 
 philofopher than Newton, who a more ac- 
 tromplimed icholar than Addifon, yet both 
 were remarkable for their diffidence ? 
 
 Confidence, my Emily, ought only to be 
 the refult of very great and acknowledged 
 proficiency, and perfection is a beautiful 
 "idea, which may flatter our imagination, but 
 has no real exiftence in the works of man. 
 How empty is our boaft, that we have ar- 
 rived at the end of our journey, when we 
 
 have
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 227 
 
 have only advanced a few miles on the 
 road ! 
 
 But take courage, I make not thefe ob- 
 fervations to intimidate, but to caution you : 
 to the efforts you have already made to 
 improve your mind, add perfeverance. 
 Every ftep you take will carry you farther 
 from ignorance, the point from which you 
 firft fet out ; and your gradual exertions 
 will lead vou on, till vou make nearer and 
 nearer approaches to the abode of wifcbrci 
 herfelf. 
 
 I 4iave written this long, but I truft not 
 uninfeerefting letter to induce you to attend 
 to the improvement of your mind, and to 
 confider every mere accomplishment as a mat- 
 ter of inferior value. I know you to be of 
 an inquifitive temper, and very eager for in-* 
 formation. Such a turn of mind may be 
 directed to the beft ufe, if you employ a 
 proper portion of your time in the manner 
 I have recommended. Wifdom opens her 
 treafures to you, me difclofes the fublime 
 truths of Chriftianity, the hiftory of j)aft 
 
 q % age£,
 
 228 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. # 
 
 r ages, the productions of genius, and the lef- 
 fons of experience. Nature difplays to you 
 her beauties and her wonders vifible in the 
 fertile earth, the ftarry heavens, and the 
 wide ocean. All thefe are objects that invite 
 refearch, and will reward your inquiries ; 
 
 .objects worthy of the ftudy and the contem- 
 plation of a rational being, — -an accountable 
 agent — an heir of immortality. . 
 
 'From thefe copious treafures endeavour 
 my Emily to draw the true riches of the 
 mind, iuch as are fuperior to the levities of 
 faihion, independent of the vicifntudes of 
 fortune, and unimpaired by the lapfe of 
 time — I mean the conftant practice of per- 
 fevering virtue and rational piety,- the ac- 
 
 • quirement of ufeful knowledge,, a delight in 
 
 .performing every branch of duty, a talte 
 for good and improving company, a difpo- 
 .iition to be pleafed with the common enjoy- 
 ments of life, and to be happy by -endea- 
 
 '.'vourins to make all around you fo. - 
 
 Thefe are the good qualities and habits in 
 
 'whatever relation of life difplayedj whether 
 
 . ... . , hi
 
 THE IMPROVEMENT OF THE MIND. 229 
 
 in the daughter, the /{Jier, the wife, or the 
 mother, which are calculated to refine the 
 female character to the greateft degree of 
 moral purity, to. raife it to the higheft pitch 
 of earthly excellence, and to impart to it a 
 portion of angelic beauty and lovelinefs. 
 
 LET-
 
 LETTER II. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 Although the world into which you are 
 now entering may at prefent appear a fcene 
 of unmixed gaiety and pleafure, yet you 
 will be convinced before many years have 
 paffed, that vexation and care, difappoint- 
 ment and forrow, are the unavoidable bur- 
 thens laid upon all mankind, at one period 
 of life or other. That you may bear the 
 portion of weight which will fall to your lot 
 with the greater cafe, and practice the 
 Chriftian virtue of refignation — that under 
 all the adverfe cireumftances of life, you 
 may have a copious fountain of comfort 
 arjling from your own mind, I wifh you to 
 
 be
 
 O^ DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 231 
 
 be convinced, that all human affairs are un- 
 der the control of Divine Providence, and 
 that however gloomy their afpecl: at any 
 time may be, they have a tendency to pro- 
 duce our final welfare and happinefs. 
 
 How fully the authority of Scripture, the 
 records of hiftory, and our own experience 
 concur to eftabliih this confoling and im- 
 portant article of belief, will I think be evi- 
 dent, if you will duly confider the following 
 arguments. 
 
 With refpect to Scripture, the doctrine 
 not only of a general providence, by which 
 all things are fo regulated as to be prelerved 
 in due order, is inculcated; but that of a 
 particular providence may be proved from 
 almoit every page of the Bible. The Chil- 
 dren of Ifrael were led by the efpecial 
 guidance of the Almighty to the promifed 
 land ; their whole hiftory is miraculous, and 
 difplays the ftretched-out arm of Jehovah to 
 fuccour and preferve them. 
 
 What is the whole train of prophecies 
 reaching from the firft intimation of the 
 
 Meffiah
 
 232 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 Mefliah of the Jews, the Redeemer of man- 
 kind, given to confole onr flrft parents after 
 the fall to heir full confummation in the 
 Perfon, Actions, and Sufferings of our hlefTed 
 Saviour ? — And what were the revelations of 
 the divine will made upon extraordinary oc- 
 cafions to the illultrious favourites of Heaven, 
 fuch as Abraham, Mofes, David, Daniel, 
 Hezekiah, Job, Ruth, Either, and the Vir- 
 gin Mary, but manifeft proofs of the fame 
 truth? 
 
 The doctrine derives great fupport from 
 one plain argument of reafon. An all- 
 powerful Being, fuch as we believe, the Deity 
 to be, cannot poffibly be excluded' from any 
 place; He is therefore every where prefent: 
 and it is inconceivable to fuppofe, that lie 
 is an inactive fpectator, and does not excrcife 
 his fupreme wifdorn, as far as is confiftent 
 with the free will of his rational creatures : 
 the eye of the Lord is in every place, behold- 
 ing the evil and the good. This is a brief, 
 but very ftrong and explicit declaration, and 
 proves that the Almighty extends his regard 
 
 to
 
 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. £33 
 
 to all things, and that nothing panes, or in- 
 deed can pafs, without his obfervation. 
 
 It mult be clear to every one who exa- 
 mines the hiftory of mankind, that great 
 events have often been effected by trifling! 
 means — that the confequences of actions 
 have been often much more extenfive, more 
 happy or calamitous, than were origi- 
 nally intended by -the agents themfelves — 
 that the deiigns-of Providence have been 
 ibmetimes effected by the caprice of human 
 tempers, or the impetuofity of human paf- 
 fions; and that fraud, cruelty, opprefuori, and* 
 violence, have met with ju ft,' though fometimes 
 delayed punifhment. The refult of actions 
 has been, in many cafes, widely different 
 from the ends propofed by thofe who planned 
 them, and even great revolutions have been 
 effected contrary to the intentions of the 
 perfons who were the chief inftruments of 
 them. 
 
 That the conviction of fuch interpofition 
 is calculated to make a powerful impreffion 
 upon the mind, and to call forth lively ac- 
 
 knowledfr-
 
 534 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 knowledgments of gratitude, is evident from 
 many inftances in the hiftory of our own 
 country. After the battle of Poicticrs, gained 
 by a fmall army of Englishmen over nume- 
 rous hofts of the French, Edward, the Black 
 Prince, addrefled his captive, KingJohn, with 
 fisprefiions of efteem and tympathy, and far 
 from arrogating any merit to himfelf, afcrihed 
 his victory fotely to the favour of divine Pro- 
 vidence. When the Spaniih Armada was de- 
 feated, Queen Elizabeth caufed medals to be 
 ft'mcfc, upon which were reprefented the Spa- 
 nslh fliips difperied by a ftorm with this appro- 
 priate motto, " God caufed the winds to 
 blow, and they are fcaJtagh&T And that 
 the fpirit of piety has been prefcrvcd among 
 the heroes of our own times, we may prove 
 by referring to. the brave Nelibn, who, in 
 his late difpatches, attributed his iigqal vic- 
 tory in the bay of Aboukir to " Ahnighty 
 
 God.' 
 
 For the nioft ftriking proofs of the fupcr- 
 intendencc of divine Providence, we may 
 appeal to the courfe of our own experience. 
 
 Have
 
 ON DIVIXE PROVIDENCE. 235 
 
 Have we ever been airlifted by ficknefs? 
 fiow often has Hope renovated our exhaufted 
 ipirits, and fpoken peace to our troubled 
 fouls ! Alk thofe who have been in poverty 
 ajid want — have they never received relief 
 at a time when they gave themfelves up for 
 loft? has not foine kind friend fuccoured 
 them like a guardian angel? Has there not 
 been in. the life of every one fome extraordi- 
 nary coincidence of circumftances equally 
 out of the reach of his power to produce ? 
 
 The unthinking may talk of chance and 
 good luck, but thefe are onlv founds without 
 ienfe, plauiible names which mean nothing, 
 when applied to the important concerns of 
 our lives. Be afiurcd, that the whole fcheme 
 of our exiftence has been planned by a wile 
 and benevolent Power ; that nothing hap- 
 pens without his knowledge and permimon ; 
 and that as there is nothing which with re- 
 ipect tp his Preference is unforefcen, fo there 
 is nothing which with re'fpecl; to his Provii 
 dence is cafual. We may fomctimes borrow 
 a ufeful leflbn even upon fubjech of religion 
 
 from
 
 £56 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 from the heathen writers. The fatyrift Ju- 
 venal, for inftance, lias recommended the 
 belief of a divine Providence, and reliance 
 upon it as the belt means to difpel the fears, 
 and reprefs the anxiety of mankind. 
 
 Receive my counfel, and fecurely move, 
 Intruft thy fortune to the Powers above : 
 Leave them to manage for thee, and to grant 
 What their unerring wifdom fees the want : 
 Jn goodnefs as in greatnefs they excel, 
 ' Ah I that we Iov r d ourfclvcs but half fo well ! 
 Drxdes's Juvenal, Sat. X. 
 
 But what in a pagan writer could be only con- 
 jecture, or at nioft probability, with refpect to 
 the difcovcry of this doctrine, in aChriitianaf- 
 fumes the fu.bltanceof certainty, derived from 
 thegrcateft and belt authority; and the afiu- 
 rance of Scripture is no leis confolatory than 
 true. L \ Behold the fowls of the air, for they 
 low not, neither do they reap, nor gather. 
 into barns; yet your, heavenly lather feedeth 
 them : Are ye not much better than they h 
 Which of you by taking thought can add 
 
 one
 
 OX DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 237 
 
 one cubit unto his ftature ? And why take 
 ye thought for raiment? Confider the lilies 
 of the held, how they grow — they toil not, 
 neither do they fpin ; and yet I fay unto 
 you, that even Solomon, in all his glory, 
 was not arrayed like one of thefe. Where- 
 fore if God lb clothe the grafs, which to-day 
 is, and to-morrow is caft into the oven, (hall 
 : he not much more clothe you, oh ye of little 
 faith?" 
 
 I mall only fuggeft to you, in a few words, 
 fome of the principal advantages to be de- 
 rived from a firm perfuafion of the truth of 
 this doctrine. 
 
 - It convinces us of the folly, or rather the 
 fin, of that exceffive folicitude, which many 
 .perfons mow for the good things of this 
 world— particularly for its riches — a folici- 
 tude which deprives them of the enjoyments 
 they can command, and makes them queru- 
 lous and wretched, even when fin polfeflion 
 of the menus of comfort. 
 : It is a great fource of conlLlation in times 
 
 of
 
 138 ON DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 
 
 of difficulty and diitrefs : What though the 
 evils of life pre is hard upon me, and I am 
 furroundcd by dangers ; what though the 
 itorm impends, the thunders roll, and the 
 lightnings flaili, I will remain firm and un- 
 ihaken at my poit ; for I have an Almighty 
 Protector, whofe eye can penetrate the dark- 
 nefs of the ftorm, who will enable me either 
 to bear its violence with fortitude, or will 
 prefent to me fome method of eicaping it. 
 
 Supported by this belief, the poor man 
 imiles in his clay-built cottage. He is con- 
 vinced, that the Almighty is his friend; and 
 that he marks his diftreiles ; and although for 
 the trial of his virtues many comforts are de- 
 nied liim in this world, he looks forward with 
 certain hope to that heaven, where want and 
 hardfhip will be no more. 
 
 To the rich man it cannot fail to be falu-» 
 tary ; it abates his pride, and awes him into 
 xefpcft for the rights of others; it induces 
 him to condefcend to men of low eftate, 
 from the conviction, that he has a Mafter in 
 
 heaven, 
 6
 
 ON 7 DIVINE PROVIDENCE. 239 
 
 heaven, who is above all, who views all his 
 actions, and will call hiin to give an account 
 of his itewttniiliip. 
 
 And if we have a firm perfuafion of it, 
 my Emily, we may rife in the morning to 
 purfue our daily occupations, and retire to 
 reft at night with equal compofure ; allured, 
 that we are fuperiutended by a Guardian, 
 who " neither ilumbcrs nor fleeps," and whofe 
 inceffant vigilance is our beft fecurity. 
 
 LET-
 
 LETTER III. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 
 
 You tell me, that your friend Lady S 
 
 made a merit of giving money to a beggar 
 upon a public road, and you very properly 
 doubt, whether mch an acl; can be rightly 
 deemed an a6r of genuine charity. If fhe 
 thought that it conftituted the whole duty of 
 charity, fhe had certainly a very imperfect 
 notion of the iubjecl;. She might yield to 
 the impulfe of thofe generous feelings, which 
 Ihowed the goodnefs of her heart, but I wifh 
 you to confider, that as Chriftians we ought 
 to aft from principle, as well as fenfibility, 
 
 and
 
 ON CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 24 1 
 
 and you may be allured that oftentation can 
 form no part of true charity. 
 * It. appears from holy Scripture^ that Cha- 
 rity, the nobleit and heft of the virtues, flows 
 from the pureft motives — the love of God 
 our Creator, and Chrift our Redeemer, and 
 is of fo conipreheniive a nature, as to include 
 all the thoughts, words, and actions, benevo- 
 lence can dictate ; and embraces all the du- 
 ties we owe to mankind. The practice of it, 
 arifing from thefe motives, is of the higheft 
 value and importance ; for we are afiured 
 that our Saviour will reward, as an act of 
 perfonal kindnefs to himfelfj any exercife of 
 it even to the humbleft of his followers — In 
 as much as you did it unto one of the haft of 
 thefe my brethren*, you did it unto me. 
 
 In order that you may till up the defects 
 of this Iketch, I defire you to read the elo- 
 quent and very copious defcription, which 
 St. Paul has given of Charity in the firit 
 Epiftle to the Corinthians, and I entreat 
 you to be very attentive to the train of his 
 argument — Though I bejiow all my goods to 
 
 vol. i. r feed
 
 242 ON - CHRISTIAN CHARITY 
 
 feed the poor, faic} the Apoftle, and have net 
 Charity , it profit elk me nothing. Perhaps 
 you may aik, can I perform fo benevolent 
 an office, as that here defcrihed, and yet be 
 deftitute of Charity? Yes 7 you certainly may; 
 for you may feed the poor from motives of 
 orientation or vain glory, and may not be 
 influenced at all by the principle, the pure 
 and diiinterefted principle, which gives it all 
 its value in the fight of God. 
 
 Obferve tpo the particular caution of our 
 blefled Saviour- — When thou givefi thine 
 alms, do it fecretly, and thy Father which 
 feeth in fecretjhall reward thee openly. This 
 precept is as excellent in regard to the deli- 
 cacy that may be due to the feelings of the 
 receiver, as with refpect to the fincerity of 
 the giver :, But as acls of public beneficence 
 are equally conducive to the honour of God, 
 and the good of fociety, they are as ftrongly 
 recommended upon the iimae high authority — 
 Let your light fojhine before men, that they 
 may fee your good works, and glorify your 
 Fqt/ter which is in heaven* 
 
 Thu*.
 
 ON CHRISTIAN CHARltY. 243 
 
 Thus you may be led to notice the dif- 
 tinction which prevails between notoriety and 
 oftentation. The mot fee for doing an action, 
 and the manner in which it is done, eohftitute 
 this diftinclion ; and if this be the cafe, it is 
 even poifible, that the perfon who relieves 
 an object of charity in the prefenee of a 
 crowd, may act from a principle as pure", as 
 thofe u who do good by ftealth, and blufh to 
 find it fame." 
 
 As gratitude is only the growth of gene- 
 rous minds, you mlift not expect it to be 
 the invariable fruit of the benefits you con- 
 fer : no, you mtift feet upon nobler confide- 
 rations, than the hope of any temporal re- 
 wards, and be fatisfied with the applaufe of 
 your own heart, and the conviction that you 
 are fulfilling one df the principal duties 
 of life. 
 
 Men are Ungrateful — be they fo who dare, 
 Is that the giver's or receiver's care? 
 O blind to joys that from true bounty flow, 
 To think thofe" eVr repent, Whofe be*m bellow 1 
 
 r<2 The
 
 244 OX CHRISTIAN CHARITY". 
 
 The numerous public citablifiiments for 
 charitable purpofes conftitute much of the 
 true glory of Our nation. In them very great 
 and effential benefits" arc imparted to the 
 poor and diitrelled by the contributions of 
 individuals, which like drops of rain, how- 
 ever fmall, unite and augment the general 
 current of Charity. Of thefe inftitutions 
 none are more ufeful than hofpitals ; and it 
 ought to be remembered for the honour of 
 your fex, that a Roman lady, whofe name, 
 I think, was Fabiola, founded the firft hof- 
 pital. She faw wounded foldiers left a prey 
 to pain and death, in the fquares and ftreets 
 of the city of Rome ; her generous heart 
 melted with companion when ihe heard their 
 piteous complaints, and ihe caufed a fpacious 
 edifice to be built for their reception, where 
 they were fupplied with proper food and 
 medicines. Thus did thefe very ufeful efta- 
 blifhments owe their origin to the tender 
 feelings of your fex, directed by the benevo- 
 lent principles of Chriftianity ; and that the 
 fame oeneficial union ftill continues for the 
 
 good
 
 OX CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 245 
 
 £Ood of the more indigent ranks of fociety, 
 the lifts of fubfcribers to hofpitals in all 
 parts of Great Britain furnilh very fufficient 
 proofs. 
 
 To public charities all have not an equal 
 power or opportunity of contributing; but 
 every one pofTcffing even a fcanty portion of 
 the iiood things of this world, can exercife 
 private beneficence, in fome degree or other : 
 fhe who cannot give much, may give fome- 
 thing to the poor and needy; and if it be 
 imparted in the true fpirit of a Chriitian, we 
 are allured by the exprefs declaration of our 
 Saviour himfelf, that even the cheapeft and 
 mofi inconfiderable boon, even a cup of cold 
 zvater, will by no means lofe its reward. 
 
 I mall conclude this letter with giving you 
 an inltance or two of the virtue I am recom- 
 mending. They deferve your attention the 
 more, as they are taken from the walks of 
 middle life, and therefore are open to exten* 
 five imitation. 
 
 As I was travelling through the pretty 
 
 village of A , I inquired the name of a 
 
 lady,
 
 £4$ ON CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 
 
 lady, whom I faw entering a cottage. — 
 " Oh, Sir," replied an old man, " it is Mrs. 
 S-. — ~, who has been to fee my poor wife : 
 me is very ill, and our houfe is not the place, 
 for fine ladies to come to; but this dear 
 angel comes every- day to relieve her wants, 
 and fends one of her own children with 
 fomething nice from her own table. She 
 talks to us all, and relieves any of the parifh 
 who are fick, with as much kindnefs as if we 
 belonged to her own family. If a poor child 
 
 want a coat or a gown, Mrs. S does 
 
 not give the parents, the money to buy one, 
 but ihe purchafos the materials, and makes 
 it for the ohild herfelf." 
 
 Thi& violet* of the vale is concealed indeed 
 in the fhajles of retirement, but me fcatters 
 fweets all around her abode. Alas, this exr 
 cellent woman brings to my mind too lively 
 a remembrance of your dear departed, mo- 
 ther ! fuch was her charitable difpofition, 
 and fuch her unoftentatious bounty, to the 
 deferving poor ! 
 
 8 A ihort
 
 ON CHRISTIAN CHARITt. 247 
 
 A ihort time ago the IVIifs O s, who> 
 
 as you may remember, removed from our 
 village when very young, came to pay a viiit 
 to fome friends in their old neighbourhood. 
 They recognifed with fond expreflions of 
 pleafure the objects dear to their childhood, 
 and their eyes fparkled with joy when they 
 revifited the walks in the garden where they 
 had fo often played- the old oaks, the rookery, 
 and the weeping willows that hang over th£ 
 ftream. But nothing gave them fo much 
 pleafure as the fight of their nurfe, whom 
 they found almoft blind, and bowed down 
 with years. They made the moft anxious 
 inquiries after her health and circumftances, 
 relieved her with a handfome prefent, and 
 the aflurance of a regular fupply. Thefe 
 girls had been accuftomed to very genteel 
 fociety ; they are fine ladies in the belt fenfe 
 of the words ; but their benevolent feelings 
 have not been blurited by intercourse with 
 the world, nor has their grateful attachment 
 to the humble friend of their infancy and 
 
 child-
 
 248 ON CHRISTIAN CHARITY. 
 
 childhood been facrificed to more moduli 
 connections, When you, my Emily, are in- 
 clined to return to your native village, I ihall 
 fay to you, and I truit I fhall not fpeak in 
 vain, Come, and do thou likewijh* 
 
 So ilUrftrious are we rendered by the prac- 
 tice of true charity, that our praife will never 
 ceafe ; fo valuable is it, that it recommends 
 us to the favour of God, as well as the love 
 of man : fo noble that it is placed at the 
 head of all chriftian graces — And now 
 remain Faith, Hope, Charity ; hut the 
 greatejl of thefe is Charity; and fo edten- 
 five is the obligation to its performance, that 
 fo long as poverty, forrow, and diftrefs of 
 any kind, remain in the world, there will be 
 a inhere for its exercife. 
 
 I wilh you particularly to obferve, that in 
 the two examples I have given you, there is 
 included a great deal of perfonal exertion, 
 and the more there is of it, the greater is 
 the excellence, I had alrnoft faid the merit, 
 pf Chanty, Suppofe I give jponey to a, teg- 
 gar,
 
 ON CHRISTIAN CHARITV. 24$ 
 
 gar, and do not examine into his juft claims 
 to my companion ; or if I employ my Ser- 
 vants to distribute alms among thoSe per Sons, 
 who, as I am informed, are in want, I fhovv 
 but little comparative zeal in the caufe of 
 Charity, and may Subject my f elf to many 
 impositions, and confequently can reap from 
 my endeavours to do good but ilight Satis- 
 faction, in comparifon to that I feel, when 
 I take pains to afcertain that the objects of 
 my bounty are in real diftreSs. 
 
 You may be allured, that Snould you be 
 placed in a high rank of life, you will find 
 the dainties of a coftly table inSipid, and the 
 Splendour of a fafhionable equipage joylefs, 
 in comparison with " the luxury of doing 
 good" to deferving objects. The exerciSe of 
 generoSity under the control of difcretion 
 will produce the greateft and the moft per- 
 manent Satisfaction. ExpenSe laviihed upon 
 fafhion, parade, and pomp, u like the baSe- 
 leSs fabric of a vifion, will leave not a wreck 
 behind ;" while the attention, the time, and 
 
 the
 
 250 ott christian charity. 
 
 the money appropriated to deeds of true Cha- 
 rity, xnll feaire the moft heartfelt felf-ap- 
 plaufe, and in the hour of ficknefs and dc- 
 fpondency will cOnfole and cheer you with 
 the delightful hope, that you have laid up 
 a ttfeafure in heaven, and done that which i* 
 acceptable in the fight of Him, who can 
 fecure you its everlafting pofienlons. 
 
 LET-
 
 LETTER IV. 
 
 «^^«^^^> 
 
 From the farm to the fame. 
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 
 
 1 h e moment I propofe the obfervation to 
 you, I feel confident you will affent to its 
 truth, that the enjoyment of pleafure Ought 
 never to exclude the performance of our duty. 
 If the warbling of the fyrens at the opera 
 was much more melodious than it is, if the 
 band was the fineft that ever was collected, 
 the decorations of the ltage, and the dreffes 
 oi the performers the moft fplendid, that 
 could ftrike the eye, and the ballet was 
 performed by the moft graceful dancers m 
 Europe — I would never confent, that even 
 all thefe combined attractions fhould fo far 
 intrude upon your hours, on a Saturday 
 
 night,
 
 2V2 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 
 
 night, as to prevent you from going to 
 
 church on a Sunday. There are, as you 
 
 well know, many cafes, in which I have 
 
 not interfered to prevent your yielding to 
 
 the tyranny of 'famion, . but in the prefent 
 
 inftance, I rnuft plead for your very ftrenu- 
 
 ous and determined oppofition to its fway. 
 
 What ! defert the public profefiion of your 
 
 Chriftian faith, and the public teiiimony of 
 
 your gratitude to the great author of your 
 
 being, the Giver of all the happinefs you 
 
 enjoy in this world, and hope for in the 
 
 next, for a frivolous amufement, or for 
 
 an unimportant engagement of any kind? 
 
 No — Heafon and revelation equally forbid 
 
 fuch conduct — Excufe the earneftnefs and the 
 
 warmth of this expbftulation, for I think the 
 
 occafion juftifies, nay demands it from me. 
 
 As I was well aware, when you firft went 
 to London, that I could not rely upon Mrs. 
 Wilfon's attention to this important point, I 
 am glad I fecured the afliftance of her wor- 
 thy neighbour Mrs. Goodall. She is pious 
 without oftentation, a zealous member of 
 
 the
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DLVOllOX. 2&3 
 
 the church of England, without the leait 
 tincture of fanatic ifml She will have more 
 pleaiure in accompanying you to church, 
 than many ladies have in going to an opera 
 or a rout. However the iaihionable world 
 may abufe or profane their Sunday, fhe 
 conitantly admonifhes them, not by an 
 overweening profeflion of her piety, but 
 by the humble perfuafive of her uniform 
 practice, which fpeaks as forcibly as if the 
 was repeatedly to fay, " You may facrifice 
 as many of your precious hours to the idols 
 of vanity as you pleafe, but like Jofhua of 
 old, As for me, and my koufe, zvc zc-i'll ferve 
 the Lord." 
 
 To a mind fo much influenced by humi- 
 lity and gratitude as yours, I need urge few 
 arguments in favour of the reafonablenefs of 
 prayer in general. That you entertain the 
 molt awful ideas of the divine Majefty and 
 power, and are feniible of your own weak- 
 nefs and dependence upon the divine good- 
 nefs, I am fully allured ; it is therefore na- 
 tural for you to fly to the Almighty for fuc- 
 
 cour
 
 £54 ON THE IMPORTANCE Of DEVOTl&tf. / 
 
 cour and fupport, and to pour forth your 
 acknowledgements for the favours he is 
 daily ihowering upon you, and all man- 
 kind. 
 
 I need not enlarge upon the propriety of 
 your applying thefe obfervations to the prac- 
 tice of private devotion. From the time 
 when I ufed to fee you then, a little girl, 
 kneel down before your mother, join your 
 little hands, and lifp your prayers, I have 
 no reafon to doubt your having matured 
 the pious practice into a regular and fettled 
 habit. 
 
 And as our gratitude lays us under the 
 ftrongeft obligations to promote the honour 
 and glory of the Supreme Being, by every 
 means in our power, w r e ought particularly 
 to do fo by acls of public zcorjliip. We 
 make an open and confpicuous declaration 
 of our faith, we thus let our light (June be- 
 fore men, and fet them a confpicuous ex- 
 ample, that they may glorify our Father 
 who is in heaven. When we are engaged in 
 the ftated fervicc of the church on the 
 
 LordV
 
 OX THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 255 
 
 Lord's day, we are employed as every Chrif- 
 tian ought to be. What a fublime and fatis- 
 factory reflection it is to a pious mind to 
 conlider, that the various congregations of 
 the univerfal church are pouring forth their 
 tributary prayers and praifes on the fame 
 day throughout the chriftian world ! It is 
 the obfervance of Sunday which gives Chrif- 
 tianity its ftability; I know not whether it 
 does not at leaft, among the great mafe of the 
 people, fecure its continuance in the world. 
 
 Tl>e general neglect of public worfhip 
 would produce a general irreverence for 
 every thing divine and facred, the great bul- 
 wark that prevents the torrent of vice and 
 immorality from overflowing fociety would 
 be thrown down, and atheiftn and wicked- 
 nefs would deluge the world. That confe- 
 quences fuch as thefe would follow, we have 
 yeafon to conclude from the evidence of 
 fa£ts- Many criminals, previous to their ex- 
 ecutipu, have been heard to coufeis their 
 breach of the Sabbath was the firft ftep in 
 their road to fin. And if faros of thofe wk> 
 
 have
 
 $.56 OS THE l?>f?ORTA>;C£ OF DEVOTION* 
 
 have run the career of dififipation in the 
 famionabie world, were at the clofe of life 
 to look back to their former conduct, they 
 might trace their inditFcrcnce to religion, and 
 their total inattention to the concerns of an* 
 other world to the fame unhappy caufe. 
 
 The world is the ocean upon which we 
 are toned by care, vexation, and diforderly 
 paffions : the church is the harbour to which 
 we may occaiionally retreat, and recruit 
 our ftrength, as we proceed on the voyage 
 of life. Then if we have any reflection, we 
 cannot fail to be {truck by objects of the 
 higheft concern. There by the tombs of the 
 departed, which we behold around us, we 
 are reminded of our perifhable nature, and 
 there by the words of eternal life uttered by 
 the appointed Mmifters of the Gofpel, we 
 are convinced, that we are the heirs of im- 
 mortality. There we lift up our thoughts 
 above this tranfitory fecne of folly, vice, 
 and disappointment ; there flows the tear of 
 penitence; there is uttered the voice of 
 pious gratitude. We approach the Supreme 
 
 Being —
 
 ON TUE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 9.57 
 
 Being — the great fource of life and happi- 
 nefs in a manner moft pleafing to him, and 
 are admitted, as it were more immediately 
 into his prefence, and we acquire a relifli for 
 thofe pleafures which are enjoyed by the 
 bleffed fpirits above : we unite with the 
 choirs of angels and archangels in celebrat- 
 ing His praifes, and qualify ourfelves by the 
 performance of a fimilar fervice to partake 
 of fimilar happinefs in heaven. 
 
 Truly excellent are the prayers of our 
 church, forcible in language, comprehen- 
 five in fubje6ts, and well adapted to all 
 ranks and fituations of mankind. They are 
 fo plain, that the common people may fully 
 underftand them ; and fo expreffive, that the 
 refined and learned cannot but admire them 
 for profound wifdom, as much as for fer- 
 vent piety. How pathetic and folemn are 
 the various petitions of the Litany, what a 
 ftile of fublime gratitude does the General 
 Thankfgiving breathe, and in what a ftrain 
 of rich and pure eloquence are all the Col' 
 lech compofe.d ! And the prayers of our 
 
 vol. i. s church
 
 258 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 
 
 church have this additional recommendation 
 to our reverence, that they are confecrated 
 by great length of time, they were breathed 
 from the lips of faints and martyrs in the 
 primitive ages, and were the expreffions of 
 the holieft thoughts of the holieft men. 
 
 I wifh you to attend to the following cir- 
 cumftance, as one which I efteem a decided 
 proof of the excellence of our Liturgy. When- 
 ever I have heard extempore prayers in any 
 diflenting congregations, they have been 
 tame and fpiritlefs, or defultory and bom- 
 baftic : if they had any merit, they difco- 
 vered evident traces of the imitation of our 
 iervice, and fometimes borrowed its exacl; 
 words. 
 
 With refpect to fermons, you may always 
 derive fome advantage from hearing them, 
 even if not always recommended by the 
 comely perfon, or the animated delivery of 
 the preacher. Some part of Scripture will 
 be explained, fome duty enforced, fome 
 perfuafive arguments urged to increafe your 
 faith, and to confirm your hope in the gra- 
 cious
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 25$ 
 
 cious promises of the Gofpel, and encourage 
 your perfeverance in well doing : and if you 
 go to church with a mind difpofed, as the 
 mind of a Chriftian ought to be, not to cavil, 
 but to learn, you cannot fail to leave the 
 facred place both wifer and better, — with in- 
 creafed veneration for the Almighty, with 
 more regard for your own fpiritual welfare, 
 and more benevolence to mankind. 
 
 I hope the weighty motives which lead 
 you to frequent your church, will always 
 induce you to behave with due devoutnefs, 
 all the time you are there. Some perfohs 
 feem to confider a church like any other 
 public place, where they go to fee and be 
 feen, to exchange compliments, and idle 
 away an hour or two. Reprefs all approaches 
 to fuch indecorous conduct, and recollect 
 that levity is a mockery of the folemn oc- 
 cafion ; bear in mind that very awful confide- 
 ration, that you are in the more immediate 
 prefence of God, when you are in a place 
 dedicated to his fole honour and fervice. 
 Let your converfation be very fhort with 
 
 s 2 the
 
 260 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF DEVOTION. 
 
 the friends you meet there, your looks de- 
 vout, and compofed, your thoughts drawn 
 off, as much as poffible, from worldly ob- 
 jects, and directed with undeviating and vi- 
 gilant attention to the regular courfe of the 
 fervice. 
 
 I conclude this letter with earneftly con- 
 juring you, by the moft facred coniiderations 
 of duty, not to fuffer any frivolous reafons to 
 prevent you from attending the fervice of the 
 church on a Sunday. Thus you will diftin- 
 guiili one day in feven from the uniform 
 feries of the other fix, by performing " a 
 reafonable fervice ;" you will keep the facred 
 flame of religion alive in your heart; you 
 will draw nigh unto God in his Holy Tem- 
 ple, and then you will have good ground 
 to hope, that he will in the hour of neceffity 
 when you are affailed by misfortune, weak- 
 ened by ficknefs, or deprefTed with grief, 
 draw nigh unto you. You will keep up 
 that fpiritual communication with heaven, 
 which is the pureft and moft nutritive fuf- 
 tenance of the foul. And you may depend 
 
 upon
 
 THE IMPORTANCE OF t)EVOTIOX. 26l 
 
 upon the truth of the affurance, that when 
 you fink into the vale of years, and review 
 the whole courfe of your paft life, there will 
 be no hours, next to thofe employed in the 
 performance of the more active duties of 
 religion, which you will reflect upon as fo 
 rationally and fo profitably fpent, as thofe 
 paifed in the " Houfe of God," 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER V„ 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. 
 
 1 here is no principle which I have endea- 
 voured to fix in your mind more firmly, or 
 wifh to recommend at all times with more 
 earneftnefs, than a ftricl: and invariable re- 
 gard to truth ; becaufe I am convinced, as I 
 am certain you will be upon reflection, of its 
 very great, I ought rather to fay, its incal- 
 culable importance, as one of the ftrongeft 
 bonds of fociety ; and it is for this reafon 
 enjoined as a moft facred duty by the laws 
 both of God and man. 
 
 Truth is the genuine language of the 
 heart ; the faultering voice of a child utter- 
 ing a fallhood, and his crimfoned cheeks 
 
 burning.
 
 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. Q63 
 
 burning with fhame, are plain indications 
 of the repugnance of fuch a practice to 
 nature : children rarely tell an untruth, until 
 they are feduced by bad examples, or ex- 
 cited by fome ftrong temptation to do fo : 
 is it not clear then, the Creator has in- 
 fcribed the characters of fincerity upon the 
 human mind, and that heinous indeed muft 
 be the fin of thofe who endeavour to oblite- 
 rate them ? 
 
 Your difpofition, I am perfuaded, is 
 averfe to all artifice and deceit 
 
 " What you think in your heart, I can read in your 
 
 eyes, 
 " For knowing no faMhood, you need no difguife." 
 
 Still it may be neceflary to keep you upon 
 your guard againlt the infinuations of thofe, 
 who may wifh to lead you aftray ; and fuch 
 perfons, I fear, are to be found in every 
 fituation of life. 
 
 It gives me great concern to remark that 
 fome boys and girls are not diftinguifhed by 
 that candour, which is the brighteft orna- 
 ment
 
 264 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. 
 
 merit of every period of life, and particularly 
 of their own. When involved in difficulties 
 in confequence of their mifconduct, they 
 have very little herniation, whether they fhall 
 facrifice veracity to convenience, if they can 
 by fuch means efcape the ftroke of punifh- 
 ment. They too often abufe their ingenuity 
 by prac~cifmg a fpecies of artifice, which 
 confifts in telling one ftory to their parents 
 or teachers, and another to their affociates. 
 When fuccefsful in their mifreprefentations, 
 they exult in their addrefs, and triumph on 
 the victory gained over the credulity of their 
 fuperiors. Their fuccefs encourages them 
 to repeat the experiment, their affu ranee is 
 hardened into effrontery, and their artifice 
 finally fettles into a confirmed habit of de- 
 ception. The teachers of youth are much 
 to be blamed, if they do not exert their ut- 
 moft vigilance to prevent the growth of this 
 malady, which when fuffered to fpread in 
 the juvenile mind, is productive of the 
 greateft evils to fociety.
 
 OX SPEAKING TRUTH. 26\5 
 
 Of all vices, deliberate and malicious falf- 
 hood is juitly regarded as the meaneit, be- 
 caufe it implies the molt profligate difregard 
 of every principle of honour. Among men, 
 thofe who do not feruple to commit atroci- 
 ous crimes, will hditate at this — they are 
 Itartled at its enormitv, and ill udder at its 
 confequences : thofe who difregard, and will 
 even forgive every other ftigma upon their 
 character, are fo offended at any imputed 
 want of veracity, as to think it can only be 
 expiated by blood, and that he who tells an 
 untruth, as he cannot be believed, is un- 
 worthy to breathe the air of honourable men 
 ■ — is too bale to live. 
 
 The fabrication of falfiiood proceeds from 
 various motives, of which vanity is the moft 
 harmlcfs. When it remits from envy or 
 malevolence, it aflumes the moft mifchievous 
 appearance : then like the viper it has a 
 tooth to inflict an envenomed wound. Such 
 is the defer iption of fcandal and calumny, 
 and that you may fully underftand the ma- 
 lignant qualities and pernicious tendency of 
 
 thefe
 
 9,66 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. 
 
 thefe great enemies to focial peace and har- 
 mony, I fhall take another opportunity of 
 writing to you more at large upon the 
 fubjecl. 
 
 Truth is always pleafant to the ingenuous 
 mind ; thus the water of the pellucid fpring, 
 of which you are fo fond, neither fparkles 
 like champaigne, nor has it the lufcious 
 fweetnefs of a liqueur ; yet it is always 
 grateful to the unvitiated tafte. The path 
 of truth is ftraight and obvious, fafe and 
 pleafant ; but falihood is an intricate laby- 
 rinth, in which there are innumerable wind- 
 ings, and where the farther you advance, 
 the more you are perplexed, and the more 
 treacherous is the ground you tread. It is 
 an evil productive of evils, and involves a 
 perfon in countlefs difficulties. He who tells 
 one untruth, may be compelled to tell many 
 more to prop up his firft affertion, and his 
 confiftency will be put to the fevereft trial ; 
 if his memory be not very retentive, he will 
 vary to-morrow from the account he gives 
 to-day ; the circumfpecr will watch, the in- 
 8 quifitive
 
 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. £67 
 
 quifitive will examine, and the fagacious will 
 detect him : he will be hunted like the crafty 
 fox, through all his windings, and will be 
 caught at laft. If once detected in a deli- 
 berate falihood, he will be ever after liftened 
 to with fhfpicion, and even truth from his 
 tongue will lofe its effect, and be confidered 
 as deceit. 
 
 Of all who, induced by vanity, oftenta- 
 tion, or any other motive, are regardlefs of 
 the reftraints of truth, it is difficult to give 
 you a defcription. Fiction, like the chame- 
 lion, fo varies its colours, that I cannot 
 enumerate them all. A — boafts of his fplen- 
 did connections, and intimate acquaintance 
 with perfons of the firft fafhion, when he is 
 only honoured by the formal bow or fmile 
 of lords and ladies who hardly know his 
 name. B — talks of his hofpitable table, and 
 elegant ftyle of living, when his kitchen is 
 the cooleft room in his houfe, and he can 
 with difficulty keep the bailiffs from his 
 doors. C — afpires to the reputation of agreat 
 wit, and is ambitious to mine in converfa- 
 
 tion
 
 16$ ON SPEAKING T Itl't th 
 
 tion by {porting bon mots and repartees, to 
 the propei ty of which he has no greater pre- 
 tentions, than that he bought the books 
 which contain them* 
 
 In fuch cafes as thefe, it may fometimes 
 be right to purfue the plan we ufed to fol- 
 low with refpect to our friend Squire Pro- 
 digy : all his ftories were of the marvellous 
 kind; but we let him purfue his own courfe. 
 His vanity urged on his invention to new 
 exaggerations ; every day the more ftories he 
 told, the lefs was their probability, till at 
 laft his abfurdities were fo palpable as to 
 excite general ridicule. This he could not 
 endure — he could bear the inattention of 
 fome of the company, and the incredulous 
 ftare of others, but he could not hold out 
 againft repeated bursts of laughter. Great 
 as was his mortification, the conftant ridi- 
 cule of his companions forced him to be 
 filent — filence produced reflection, and he 
 became in time, to the furprize of us all, 
 when he did venture to talk, a retailer of 
 plain matters of fact. 
 
 9 Stupid
 
 OX SPEAKING TRUTH. 9,69 
 
 Stupid as the filent man may appear in 
 company, he has infinitely more merit than 
 the loquacious coxcomb, who talks of no 
 one but himfelf, and while he enlarges upon 
 that darling fubject, makes pretenfions to 
 merit, of which he is totally deftitute, and 
 lays claim to approbation, of which no one 
 can be lefs worthy. 
 
 You may aflure me, you are convinced of 
 the facred character and high importance of 
 truth, and may aik, if it ought to be fpoken 
 at all times ? io far am I from contradicting 
 the old adage, that I give my full anient to 
 it, for there may be fome occafions upon 
 which prudence requires us to keep our lips 
 clofed, as much as propriety may upon 
 others, induce us to open them. In the in- 
 tercourfe of fociety, you may confider your- 
 felf as under no neceffity to tell all the truth 
 you know, except to thofe who nave a right 
 to be informed of it all, as in the cafe of 
 children to their parents, or witneiles in a 
 court of juftice. There are many cafes in 
 which referve is a virtue. Take care, how- 
 ever,
 
 $70 ON SPEAKING TRUTH. 
 
 ever, that whatever you may think proper 
 to communicate, be true. You may recol- 
 lect, that iuch was the plan upon which we 
 agreed to conduct our correfpondence, and 
 you have given me no reafon for wifhing to 
 abridge the privileges of your filence. 
 
 If an unwelcome truth is neceffary to be 
 told 3 much depends upon the time and man- 
 ner of telling it, the pill muft be fweetened, 
 and fometimes gilded, to make it palatable; 
 for inftance, if I tell you of your faults, 
 with a fincere wifh for you to correct them, 
 I ought to make my obfervations with ten- 
 dernefs and delicacy, or I fhall wound your 
 feelings, inftead of producing your amend- 
 ment. For want of caution in this refpeel, 
 the young often defpife admonition, as if it 
 was the offspring of fpleen or morofenefs, 
 and treat their advifer rather as an enemy 
 than a friend. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON GREAT TALKERS AND ROMANCERS IN 
 CONVERSATION. 
 
 1 he rules of good manners feem to re- 
 quire that converfation, in mixed companies 
 of grown perfons of both fexes mould be 
 divided nearly in equal proportions between 
 all pre fen t. It is the moft agreeable, when 
 it refembles a round game, where each per- 
 fon has his turn to play. It is the moft in- 
 ftru&ive when, as in a cricket match, the 
 moft ikilful ftrikes the ball the moft fre- 
 quently. No perfons ought to engrofs too 
 large a fhare of converfation, unlefs they can 
 throw a great deal of wit, pleafant anecdote, 
 or found obfervation into the general ftock 
 
 of
 
 272 ON GREAT TALKERS AND 
 
 of the company. I have often obferved, that 
 loquacity, although generally reputed a fault 
 peculiarly feminine, is not confined to your 
 fex, and I think a male tattler is more to 
 be cenfured than a female one, becaufe 
 from the fuperior advantages of his educa- 
 tion he ought to hwzv better. This failing 
 remits from a felfifh motive ; it originates in 
 vanity, and a love of difplay, rather than a 
 wifh to pleafe, or to inftruct Great talkers 
 are generally iuperhcial thinkers : they are 
 like our mountain ftreams in the north, 
 which make indeed a great noife, as they 
 dafh over the pebbles, but they are always 
 fhalloweft in thofe places. They would do 
 well to confider, whether their obfer ra- 
 tions are worth hearing, whether they are 
 adapted to the place, the time, and the per- 
 fon to whom they are addreffed. This ex- 
 ercife of common prudence would prevent 
 them from being confidered as the lawlefs 
 ufurpers of other peoples rights, and the unli- 
 cenfed trefpaffers on our time and patience. 
 
 Seleci
 
 ROMANCERS IN CONVERSATION'. 273 
 
 Select reading and attentive obfervation 
 on the bufy fcenes of life, will furnim the 
 beft topics for converfation, and good com- 
 pany will not only add to your materials, 
 but will teach you to refine and to adapt 
 them to various perfons. If thofe who talk 
 have neither lolly for their fubjeci, nor de- 
 ceit for their end ; if they are lively without 
 impertinence, delicate without affectation, 
 and improving without pedantry, or parade, 
 they cannot fail to communicate to all 
 around them a molt exquifite treat — fuch 
 converfation does honour to rational beings, 
 and exalts the dignity of their nature.. It 
 merits the praife of Milton, our greateft 
 poet, conveyed in the beautiful fpeech of 
 Adam to the angel Gabriel. 
 
 And fweeter thy difcourfe is to my car 
 Than fruits of palm-tree, pleafanteit to thirft 
 And hunger both, from labour, at the hour 
 Of fweet repait ; they i'atiate and foou fill, 
 Tbo' pleafant ; but thy words with grace divine . 
 Imbued, bring to their fweetnefs no fatietv. 
 
 vol. i. t There
 
 J7-1 OX GREAT TALKERS AS Ij 
 
 There are perfons who think converfa- 
 tion Dtishi to rcfemble a luxurious table, 
 and that the bed treat confifts in a number 
 of highly feafoned dimes. They may be 
 ftiled the mefs mates of Sinbacl the failor, or 
 the companions of the Baron Munkhaufcn, 
 for they are always trying to altoniih the 
 company with the difplay of the marvellous . 
 I hope they will not lb far vitiate your tafte, 
 as to make you prefer the ragouts and high 
 fauces of gafconade and hyperbole, to the plain 
 dimes of common fenfe and matter of fact. If 
 $hey relate an article of news, they talk of 
 thoufands by a kind of poetical licenfe in- 
 ilead of hundreds, and where other perfons 
 have travelled one mile, they boaft of hav- 
 ing gone ten. Their account of wonderful 
 incidents will feldom ftand the teft of clofe 
 and pertinent queftions. Exaggeration is like 
 a magnifying giafs, objects feen through it 
 appear very large, but take it away, and 
 they are immediately reduced to their na- 
 tural fize. 
 
 8 An
 
 ROMANCERS IX CONVERSATION". 2/5 
 
 An American gentleman ailcrted, that in 
 the back fettlements of Connecticut, he had 
 i'een a liock of pigeons lb large as to darken 
 the air. He was alked what he mppoied 
 its length to have been ; he gravely re- 
 plied, that it was full ferenty miles. It 
 was fug^efied to him, that a flock of feven 
 miles in extent would produce the fame 
 effect, and as he found upon revolving the 
 matter in his mind, that even this was a very 
 handfomc allowance of pigeons, he was con- 
 tent in future to tell the itory with this de- 
 duction from his original quantity. 
 
 An old lady remarkable for her fondnefs 
 for the marvellous, went into a neighbouring 
 village to drink tea. Her friend inquired 
 if iliu brought any news ? " The only thing," 
 laid fhe, " I have, worth mentioning, is 
 very wonderful indeed. When I left home 
 I heard all the dogs of the village barking 
 moft violently." " It is very extraordinary," 
 laid her friend, " they mould all be barking, 
 and you mould hear them aU" " You may 
 think fo as long as you plea fe, madam," 
 
 t 2 laid
 
 276 ON GREAT TALKERS AND 
 
 faid the old lady, with fome warmth, rt but 
 I am confident several dogs were barking ;" 
 on her friend ftill appearing furprized, and 
 incredulous, me added, in a more fubdued 
 tone, " Well, madam, believe me or not as 
 you like, but I will take an oath before any 
 magistrate in the county, that when I left 
 home, there was a great deal of barking 
 made by my lap-dog.'" 
 
 To be able to tell an entertaining ftory in 
 a pleafmg manner, is doubtlefs a very happy 
 talent. If you afpire to fuch an excellence, 
 endeavour to follow the example of Mrs. R — , 
 for no one can better deferve your imitation. 
 She is never tedious in her narratives : all 
 the circumstances ihe introduces, arife from 
 her accurate obfervations on the peculiar 
 manners by which every perfcm is diftin- 
 guimed ; ihe points them with humour, and 
 exprefTes them with precifion. If fhe re- 
 peats a ftory again and again, there is 
 little variation in her ftatements. Like a 
 faithful painter ihe gives ftrong likeneiies of 
 perfons, not caricatures, and her colouring 
 
 is
 
 ROMANCERS IN CONVERSATION". £77 
 
 is lively, not glaring. She can go through 
 a detail of the moft ludicrous incidents v ith 
 perfect fedatenefs of countenance, and every 
 one laughs except herfelf. The oddities of 
 character, and the follies of conduct, are her 
 favourite topics, and to excite mirth is her 
 principal aim, yet as few peribns are more 
 polite, or humane, me never endeavours to 
 do fo at the expenfe of benevolence or de- 
 corum. She never lofes light of the refpec- 
 t ability of her own character, or the tender- 
 nefs that may be due to another's feelings. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER VII. 
 
 from the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 On calling upon our friend Lady A — ■ 
 and her daughters the other day, I -was fur- 
 prized to find them all fitting round a large 
 fire. It was then twelve o'clock, the air 
 was foft and genial, and the weather held 
 out all the inducements to excrcife, that 
 could be offered by the mild and enliven- 
 ing luftre of an autumnal fun. On my mak- 
 ing a remark to this purpofe to the ladies, 
 whole faces were far from reflecting the rofy 
 glow of exercife and health, their mother 
 allured me, " they were fo completely en- 
 gaged, as to have no leifurc whatever to throw 
 away upon walking or riding." 
 
 I endea-
 
 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. c 2?9 
 
 I endeavoured to convince them of the 
 fuperior advantages that would refult from 
 exchanging an atmoiphere of coai-duft and 
 vapour for pure air and refreihing breezes. 
 
 Among other walks and rides in the 
 neighbourhood, I talked firft of courfe, of 
 Lorton houfe, and its accompaniments ; and 
 you may be affured I did not forget your 
 favourite hermitage. Then for a more dif- 
 tant excurfion, I directed Lady A — to the 
 afcent of Caftle Crag in Borrowdale, which 
 commands an extenhve profpecl of our 
 lake and vale of Kefwick, with all their 
 romantic appendages of rocks and woods ; 
 or if fhe chofe to take an oppofite direction, 
 I hinted ihe might explore the foft green 
 hill of Latrigg, fee Skiddaw towering imme- 
 diately above her, and on the other fide 
 trace the Greeta, meandering through the 
 meadows, and uniting its chryftal waters 
 with the Derwent ; I remarked that the 
 trees were affuming the various colours of 
 autumnal foliage, the itreams were in full flow, 
 darning down the vales among the fantaftic 
 rocks, and the whole region of the widely 
 
 extended
 
 280 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 extended landfcape -was calculated to inipire 
 pleafure in every beholder. 
 
 Whether my expatiating upon the induce- 
 ments to take the air will have its defired 
 effect upon this family, who fay they came 
 on purpofe to enjoy the beauties of our 
 country, and profefs a great defire to take 
 drawings from nature, I know not: but I 
 wiih to inform you, that our converfation 
 led me to the following reflections upon the 
 important fubject of health, and the methods 
 conducive to its prefervation. 
 
 Can too much ever be faid in praife of 
 health, when we recollect, that of all pof- 
 feffions, it is the moft delirable ; it is the 
 cordial of life, and the balm of exiftence. 
 Perfons in health poffefs a blclling which is 
 no inconfiderable compenfation for the want 
 of the gifts of fortune, or the diftin&ions of 
 honour. They have the molt perfect enjoy- 
 ment of themfelves, and of every object 
 around them ; their found conftitutions pro- 
 duce a conftant fbw cf good fpirits, and 
 cheerful thonghts ; and they are in the belt 
 
 ftate
 
 OX THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 281 
 
 ftate of mind and body to cn^a^e in the bufi- 
 nefs of life with pleafure, and to continue 
 it without interruption. 
 
 But like all other common gifts of nature, 
 health is never rated at fo high a price, as 
 when we feel its lofs. Thofe who enjoy un- 
 interrupted health, have no more lively 
 perception of its value, Ulan our peafants 
 have of the wholeforne water of the Der- 
 went, that flows by their cottages, or than 
 many of the natives of this county feel for 
 the grandeur and beauty of our profpecls. 
 Familiarity with fuch objects deadens both 
 the fenfe of enjoyment, and the ienfe of 
 gratitude to the bountiful Giver of thefe un- 
 sought, but invaluable bleihngs. 
 
 Ileal tli communicates to us a perception 
 of happinefs, which is independent of any 
 external caufe. I cannot defcribe its mode 
 of operation, but I feel its genial effects : 
 and I fee it difplayed in the fportivenefs of 
 children, when at play, in their bounding 
 ftep, bright eyes, and voice of joy. When 
 nrft I faw your companion Fanny Goodly, 
 
 the
 
 £82 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH, 
 
 the little girl whofe cheeks rivalled the 
 crimfon hue of our mountain itrawberries, 
 was dancing on the green with feveral little 
 children of her own age ; it is true fhe was 
 drefTed in a tattered gown, but nothing I 
 could give her feemed wanting to add to her 
 enjoyments. 
 
 For a true eftimate of this precious jewel 
 of health, you muft afk the tender conva- 
 lefcent juft efcaped from the confined limits 
 of his chamber, and regaining ftrength 
 enough to walk forth, and reviiit the beau- 
 ties of nature. What his feelings are can 
 beft be conceived from the admirable de~ 
 fcription of Mr. Gray : 
 
 See the wretch that long has toft, 
 On the thorny bed of pain, 
 At length repair his vigour loft, 
 And breathe, and walk again. 
 The meaneft floweret of the vale, 
 The fimpleft note that ftvells the gale, 
 The common fun, the air, the fkies, 
 To him are opening paradife. 
 
 I make
 
 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 233 
 
 I make no obfcrvations to you at pre- 
 sent upon the fubject of early rifing, as I 
 know that however praife-worihy your con- 
 duct was in that refpecL, when you were 
 at home, the practice cannot be continued 
 in London without many interruptions. You 
 will do well however to recollccl that of all 
 blooms that can grace the cheeks of the 
 fair, no one is fo beautiful, or fo lafting as 
 that of nature ; and liberal as ilie is to thofe 
 who folicit her favours, fhe never long con- 
 tinues this " celeftial rofy red," as Milton 
 calls it to thofe who fliut their eyes againft 
 the beams of the fun, when he admoniilies 
 them to rile at a proper hour. 
 
 If the late hours you may be compelled 
 to keep in London, muft, from the tyranny 
 of faihion, interrupt the falutary cultom of 
 early riling, you may at leaft pay fome 
 attention to regular rifing in a morning. 
 If a perfon were to leave her bed at the 
 fame hour every morning, it would influ- 
 ence her conduci as to the time of retir- 
 ing
 
 284 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 
 
 ing to reft at night; and (lie would be 
 a double gainer in- thofe important bene- 
 fits, and bleffings of exiftence, health and 
 time. 
 
 I wiih now to propofe a cafe to you, 
 which will put your Ikill in arithmetic to 
 the trial. Suppofe of two perfons of ex- 
 actly the fame age, one was to rife punc- 
 tually at eight every morning in every year 
 from the a<?e of 15 to 60 — and the other 
 not to quit her bed before ten during 
 the fame period, and that they both re- 
 tired to reft at the fame hour. Quere, 
 of how much time would the more early 
 rifer be the gainer? Would it not amount 
 to a twelfth part of the forty-five years ? 
 And I defire you to tell me in your next 
 Letter, the exa6t amount in years and 
 months. Suppofe this confiderable gain of 
 time to be applied to any very good pur- 
 pofe, fuch as faying her prayers, read- 
 ing a religious or any other improving 
 book ; or in walking and taking exercife, 
 how much would the early rifer have the 
 
 advantage
 
 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 285 
 
 advantage both in regard to cultivation of 
 mind, and health of body, over her who 
 " falfely luxurious" lofes fome of the fineft 
 hours of the day upon " her couch of floth. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LEITER VIII. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 THE SAME SUBJECT CONTINUED. 
 
 You will I think eafily underftand me, 
 
 when I remark, that there is a diftinction, 
 and that a confiderable one between drefs 
 and clothing. As the prefent fafhion of the 
 Englifh ladies is evidently defigned to fet on' 
 their perfons to advantage, it is not difficult 
 to determine for which of the two they con- 
 fult. The fafhion is borrowed from the Ele- 
 gantes of Paris ; and they have adopted it 
 from the ancient Greek models. But ought 
 no allowance to be made for the difference 
 in point of climate between England and 
 Greece ; and the different materials of which 
 the Grecian dreifes were compofed? I doubt 
 "whether Afpafia, who I affure you, was a 
 
 very
 
 OX THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 287 
 
 very fafhionable lady in the moft refined age 
 of Greece, wore muflin drefies. 
 
 In a beautiful paftoral of a Greek poet, 
 the fpring is delcribed as the fineft feafon 
 of the year: but this, as we know by unplea- 
 fant experience, is not the cafe with our 
 fprings, during which our lightly dreiTed fair 
 are often afiailed by driving ftorms of hail 
 and fnow, and exoofed to the northern or 
 eaftern gales, tremble with piercing cold. 
 
 Although we may be ridiculed by foreign- 
 ers for making the weather a ftanding topic 
 of our converfation, they cannot continue 
 long in England without being convinced 
 by their feelings, that the fubject is naturally 
 fug^eited by our own. Seldom, even in a 
 courfe of fevcral years, are two leafons pre- 
 cifely alike, and it fometimes happens, that 
 we breathe in a manner in two different cli- 
 mates in the fpace of four-and-twenty hours. 
 What great care ought therefore to be taken 
 by the tender and the delicate to guard 
 againft the ill effects of fuch mutability of 
 * rather. 
 
 Much
 
 28B ON THE PRESERVATION" OF HEALTH. 
 
 Much as the girls of the prefent times 
 may be tempted to indulge a laugh, when 
 thev fee in old pictures their great grandmo- 
 ther ahnoft buried in high ruffs, and fortified, 
 rather than dreiTcd in whale-bone ftays, and 
 ftiff brocades ; I am inclined to think that 
 thefe ftately and venerable dames had greatly 
 the advantage in point of health, over the 
 fafhionables of the prefent times. They kept 
 earlier hours of riling and retiring to reft, 
 were more regular as to the time of their 
 meals, which coniifted of plainer diet ; their 
 drefs was better adapted to our cold and 
 uncertain climate, and they lived in more 
 airy and fpacious apartments. They neither 
 fuffered themfelves to be half diffolved at 
 crowded routs, nor did they lit over blazing 
 coal-fires in inflammable muflins, with the 
 hazard of being burnt to death. I never 
 heard that queen Befs, or her maids of 
 honour were troubled with the vapours, the 
 pally, the fcrophula, and the holt of ner- 
 vous diforders of which the delicate females 
 of the prefent age complain. Thefe fecm 
 
 to
 
 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 289 
 
 to have fprung up in our tea-drinking* 
 fauce-eating, and late dining age ; and fo I 
 think has that molt fatal of all the deftroyers 
 of youth and beauty, the pulmonary con- 
 fumption. Our anceftors were like the 
 hardy oaks that grew around their caftles, 
 and ftood firm againft the wintry blafts ; but 
 too many of their defcendants refemble the 
 tender poplars that iliake at every palling 
 breeze. We are now too delicate for the 
 ■climate in which we live, 
 
 " Like flowers tranfplantcd to a colder fky," 
 
 and invalids of both fexes are every day 
 paying the deareft price for the luxuries 
 which their parents have enjoyed, or in 
 which they indulge themfelves. Their con- 
 ftitutions do not fuit the places which it is 
 their lot to inhabit, and they may be faid 
 rather to breathe, than to be well, if health 
 confifts, as it alTuredly does, in the lively 
 and perfect enjoyment of exiftence. 
 
 How far nervous complaints are imagi- 
 nary, or have their origin in the conftitu* 
 
 vol. r. u tion,
 
 '290 ON THE PRESERVATION OF HJRALTft. 
 
 tion, we muft leave the phyiicians to deter- 
 mine. Tliey certainly derive great ftrcngth 
 from indolence and indulgence, and may be 
 leflened, if not eradicated by exertion and 
 exercife. What is the reafon that the lower 
 orders of the community fcldom complain 
 of them, and that they are confined to thofe 
 who breathe in carpeted and hot rooms, and 
 are moved about in clofe carriages ? Why is 
 a lady ready to faint, and thrown into a vio- 
 lent nervous agitation, at the barking of a 
 dog, or a loud rap at the door ; when, her 
 fervants are perfectly unmoved by fuch in- 
 cidents ? Surely becaufe fervants are more 
 'accuftomed to the open air, are fully em- 
 ployed, and have no time ta encourage 
 nervous diforders. To thofe who are af- 
 flicted with them, occupation will fupply 
 one. of the beft means of cure, conftant ex- 
 ercife is an excellent alterative, and al- 
 though too many dofes of fedentary em- 
 ployment are not to be recommended, it is 
 aftonifhing how perfectly Mrs. R — got rid 
 tff this malady, when lhe employed herfelf 
 
 two 
 6
 
 Otf THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTH. 291 
 
 two or three hours a day in making drefies 
 for poor children. 
 
 And now left you mould think me deter- 
 mined to aflame the oftice of a Galen, or 
 an Hippocrates, and was with all due gra- 
 vity going to prefcrihe for you, 1 mall con- 
 clude this letter with making a few obfer- 
 fervations, which I hope you will carefully 
 retain, and conftantly a6t upon. 
 
 If fafhion fays what reafon contradicts, 
 you muft obey reafon, or take the confe- 
 quence. It will be a poor confolation to 
 reflect, that you have followed the faihion, 
 when you have caught a cold> which almoft 
 reduces you to a ikeleton, and the doclor 
 as a laft refource configns vou to Briftol, gr 
 Lifbon. Remember health is the daughter 
 of exercife and temperance, and the parent 
 of good fpirits ; fo that no felf-denial or re- 
 ftraint can be too great to fecure her com- 
 pany. If you facrifiee your health to the 
 graces, it may be the laft facrifiee you will 
 make to them, — -except your life. If exer- 
 cife produces fatigue, you fruftrate the end 
 
 u <3, of
 
 '29$ ON THE PRESERVATION OF HEALTIT. 
 
 of taking it — to explain my meaning more 
 fully, it is better to take two iliort walks, 
 or rides, than one long one. In your drefs 
 cdnfult the ftate of your own health, the wea- 
 ther and the feafon, or you will foon be 
 obliged to confult the phyfician ; and be 
 allured, that the indolence and indulgence of 
 youth will be puniihed by the maladies of 
 age. 
 
 That you may purfue every plan condu- 
 cive to the prefervation of your health with 
 fo much perfeverance, as to live as long and 
 continue as blooming, as the celebrated 
 Ninon d TEnclos, who preferved her health, 
 beauty, and vivacity to a very advanced 
 period of life, is my fincere wifh. 
 
 LETTER
 
 LETTER IX. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 ON CONTENTMENT. 
 
 You alk me, my Emily, with a degree of 
 anxiety fuited to the importance and the fe- 
 rioufnefs of men a queftibn — Where is Hap- 
 piness to be found? On what favoured and 
 delightful fpot of the earth does Die fix 
 her abode ? Does (he rcfide with the reclufe 
 in his fecret retirement ? Converfe with him, 
 and you will find that he is frequently a 
 prey to Ennui and melancholy. Is fhe to be 
 ib ught for in fafhionable crowds ? There the 
 mind has no folic! entertainment; all is buitle, 
 {how, and found. Does the rich man claim 
 her as his own ? Claim her he may, but the 
 
 anxiety
 
 294 ON CONTENTMENT. 
 
 anxiety which attends the porTefiion of wealth 
 fufficiently ihows the vanity of his preten- 
 tions. 
 
 That the poor man complains of her ab- 
 fence with fufficient reafon, is evident from 
 his ragged attire, and icanty fare. Is fhe to 
 be diicovered in the glow of friendlhip, or 
 the tendernefs of love ? There one would 
 think the fweet ftranger might be found, if 
 (lie was deftined by Providence to vifit thefe 
 lower regions ; but who is not fenfible to 
 what feniations of anxiety, and anticipation 
 of evil, the hearts even of the friend and of 
 the lover are expo-fed. 
 
 After all our enquiries, we muft then ac- 
 knowledge, that Happineis is the daughter 
 of the Skies, and is not deftined, for wife 
 reafons, to fix her abode on Earth. Felicity 
 is a blefiing, which can only be the portion 
 of beings, whofe minds are not agitated by 
 thole reftlefs hopes and fears which a rife in 
 the human breaft. But there is one fub- 
 ftantial comfort, which it is in our power to 
 obtain, provided we quit the fruitlefs purfuit 
 
 of
 
 ON CONTENTMENT. <29$ 
 
 of jHappincfs, and endeavour to fecure the 
 good within our power, and that good is 
 Contentment. 
 
 If, as I travel along the road, I obferve 
 aji indolent gipfey covered with tatters, and 
 incrufted with dirt, furrounded by children 
 as fqualid as herfelf, who have been taught 
 to crave a pittance from each pading tra- 
 veller, I abufe the term if I call her con- 
 tented. This is, properly fpeaking, an in- 
 Itance of culpable floth, or habitual indiffer- 
 ence. Contentment, to be meritorious, muft 
 be allied to Virtue; and Virtue always implies 
 laudable exertions. If I fee an induftrious 
 cottager repofing at his door, and dividing 
 his brown bread with his wile and healthy 
 children, and in whole houie there is every 
 appearance of neatnefs ; here I behold the 
 virtue of Contentment illuitr-ated to my 
 fatisfaclion : it is a picture worthy of the 
 contemplation of a philosopher, and even 
 of a monarch. 
 
 One great argument in favour of Content- 
 ment arifes from Comparifon. It is very true, 
 you may not have theiplendid carriage and 
 
 numerous
 
 296 ON CONTENTMENT. 
 
 numerous attendants of a du chefs; but, oirthe 
 other hand, you are not fo deititute of the 
 common comforts of life, as the multitudes 
 by whom you are furrounded. 
 
 If I move in a humble fphere, I think I 
 have no better reafon to murmur at my lot, 
 than a perfon of high rank has to be proud. 
 The gradations of rank were not eftablifhcd 
 in fociety for the particular accommodation 
 or detriment of any individual, but for the 
 general benefit of all If you fuppofe that 
 perfons, even of the higheft dignity, have no- 
 thing to do but to repofe upon the down of 
 indolence, and pluck the flowers of pleafure 
 and luxury, nothing can be farther from the 
 truth : they have as many duties to fulfil 
 as others, and they are vefted with an aw- 
 ful refponfibility, in proportion to the talents 
 committed to their care. 
 
 Ambition is a moft reftlefs pafiion : we muft 
 check its impulfes, or we fhall never enjoy 
 tranquillity — the moft defirable inmate of the 
 human breaft. Suppofe you were to follow 
 the dictates of ambition, you would be like 
 the traveller who thinks that by afcending 
 
 one
 
 OX CONTENTMENT. £97 
 
 one of our mountains he fhall command a 
 boundlefs profpech lie begins to climb Skid- 
 daw, or Helvellyn ; after advancing a ftiort 
 diftance, he fancies he fees the top of the 
 mountain— he climbs higher, and finds he 
 has ftill tar to go — he continues his aipiring 
 iteps till faint and almoft breathlefs he 
 reaches the fummit. When he has sained 
 this deiired point, other mountains as high, 
 if not higher, meet his view ; and he finds 
 his exertion as been all vanity and vexation 
 of fpirit. 
 
 To promote Contentment, confider your 
 own merits or demerits. If you have not 
 as many of the good things of this world as 
 you defire, have you not as many, or even 
 more, than you deferve ? Are you as good 
 a member of fociety as the mother of a fa- 
 mily, who is diligent in her occupations, in- 
 ftrucls her children in their various duties, 
 and yet has only the very fcantieft means of 
 fubfiftence ? In any common excurfion of bu- 
 iineis or pleafure, a peep into many a cottage 
 will teach this lcfTon of contentment. 
 
 Cicero,
 
 £#8 OX COXTEXTMENT. 
 
 Cicero, the great Roman orator, wiflting 
 to check the afphing pretentions of Marc 
 Antony, recommends him to confider not lb 
 much tlie company he kept, as the family 
 from which he fprung. Compare your for- 
 mer with your preient ilate of life, the fupc- 
 rior Itile of elegance or of comfort in which 
 you now live, to that in which your parent^ 
 or at leaft fome of your relations, have lived. 
 and you will be feniible of fo great a differ- 
 ence iii your own favour, that you will have 
 no reaibnable grounds to be difiatisfied with 
 your lot. 
 
 And if any one be unhappily the victim of 
 misfortune, affliction, or pain, produced by 
 his own folly, imprudence, or vice, he has 
 ih> juit caufe of complaint. Should he la- 
 bour under unmerited evils, he ought to bow 
 with humble resignation ; and be allured, 
 that, by making a religious ufe of his futfer- 
 ings, " his affliction, which is but for a mo- 
 ment, will, through the merits of his Re- 
 deemer, work for him a far more exceeding 
 and eternal weight of alory." It is an al- 
 
 lowed
 
 OUff CONTENTMENT. 299 
 
 lowed principle, that phyfical evil produces 
 moral good ; and that misfortunes are fome- 
 times blefTmgs in difcuife. 
 
 Never forget that we are appointed to 
 the ftation Ave fill in this life by the wife 
 Difpofer of all tilings, who knows what is 
 fuited to our capacities and talents much 
 better than we do ourfelves ; and we are 
 not certain but he may be merciful in what 
 he denies to our petitions, as well as in what 
 he -grants ; for we are not competent to judge 
 of the final remit of events, or what is beft 
 for us upon the whole; and certain it is that 
 the afpiring and ambitious have often met 
 with mifery and diftrefs in the accomplish- 
 ment even of their darling willies. It is na- 
 tural for the poor man to defire riches ; but 
 is he lure that he is qualified for a change to 
 a condition of affluence ? Alas ! he knows 
 not his own temper, he knows not the deceit 
 of his own heart; and ihould he be richer, 
 is he certain he fhall be a better man? He is 
 ignorant of the vexations and anxieties of 
 the wealthy; he conliders not the ftrong, 
 
 and
 
 3<)C> ON CONTENTMENT. 
 
 and even the dangerous attachment which 
 men often form to riches, and their reluct- 
 ance to Guit them- at the hour of death : he 
 judges by outward appearances, which are 
 always fallacious ; he fees indeed the nume- 
 rous retinue, the fplendid carriage, the itately 
 manfion, and the coftly furniture, but he 
 cannot difcern the fecret vexation that often 
 preys upon the heart of the poileiibr, and 
 like the canker eats the flower of his joys. 
 
 Such is the genuine language of Realbn 
 and Experience : but to murmur at our 
 ftation in life, is no lei's irreligious than it is 
 imprudent; we thus become our own tor- 
 mentors, and deprive ourfelves of the enjoy- 
 ments which are really in our power. If wc 
 cannot be rich, it is not necelfary that we 
 mould be wretched; if we cannot be adorned 
 with titles, are we not free from the envy 
 which is often the attendant on fuch dif- 
 tin&ions ? 
 
 If you agree with me, my Emily, in the 
 
 juftnefs of thefe obfervations, agree with me 
 
 likewife in being gratified with the common 
 
 - 9 bleflings
 
 ON CONTENTMENT. 301 
 
 blefiings which Nature bellows indii'crimi- 
 nately upon all her children, and adopt the 
 beautiful fentiment of Contentment and Inde- 
 pendence thus expreiied by our favourite poet 
 Thomfon in the Cattle of Indolence : 
 
 I care not, Fortune, what you me deny, 
 You cannot rob me of free Nature's grace ; 
 You cannot fluit the windows of the iky, 
 Thro' which Aurora fhows her beauteous face. 
 You cannot bar my conftant feet to trace 
 The woods and lawns by living ftream at eve: 
 Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, 
 And I their toys to the great children leave ; 
 Of fancj 7 , realbn, virtue, nought can me bereave. ' 
 
 A party of friends were going on a tour, 
 and they determined to make every incident 
 of their journey a fubject of pleafantry. 
 They met with bad inns, faucy waiters, 
 rough roads, and indifferent weather; but 
 what was all this to the fons of cheerfulnefs, 
 who were determined to confine their views 
 to the bright fide of things? Vivacity gave 
 its colours to every object, and like the 
 touch of Midas, which is faid to have turned 
 
 every
 
 302 ON CONTENTMENT. 
 
 every thing into gold, converted every inci- 
 dent into merriment : they beguiled the even- 
 ing with a long, and with the anticipation 
 of the pleafmg fcenes the morrow might 
 produce, to compenfate the dulneis of to- 
 day : mirth and good humour fparklcd in 
 their converfation, hilarity quickened their 
 fteps, and hope brightened their profpecls : 
 wherever their road lay, down the valley, or 
 up the mountain ; whether the fun fcorched, 
 or the rain beat upon them, they " ftrewed 
 the way over with flowers." 
 
 In your journey of life, try fuch an expe- 
 riment as this; but fail not to remember, 
 that its fuccefs will much depend upon the 
 road you choofe, and the felection you make 
 of your companions, 
 
 LET-
 
 LETTER X. 
 
 From the fame to the fame. 
 
 OX THE DECEPTION' OF APPEARANCES. 
 
 fl^ 
 
 hat it is very rath, and may be dangerous, 
 to truft to appearances, is a truth I with to 
 imprefs deeply upon your mind, as a pro; 
 attention to it may be of the ^reateft fervice 
 I i you in the courfc of your life, and may 
 lave you from no flight uneafmcfs and em- 
 lnuralliiicnt. Had I been doubtful of the 
 foundnefs of this maxim, I mould have had 
 the in licit confirmation of it from my obior- 
 vations on a company, in which 1 was lately 
 prefent. The party conlifted of Mrs. Volu- 
 ble, Mils Vainlove, Aiifs Iiofe, Major Railer, 
 Captain Manly, Mr. Sycophant, the Reve- 
 rend Mr. Good, and myfelf. The Major 
 
 favourcd
 
 304 THE DECEPTION 01 APPEARANCES* 
 
 favoured us with a long detail of his cam- 
 paigns, the battles he had fought, and the 
 various countries he had viiited; with no 
 very diftant hint, that all his eminent fervices 
 had been very ill requited by Government. 
 Captain Manly talked little, and feemed oc- 
 caiionally to difcover, more by his looks than 
 his words, considerable furprife at the bold 
 aiTertions of the Major. Mrs. Voluble talked 
 loudly of the ladies of quality of her acquaint- 
 ance : fhe allured us fhe had palled feveral 
 weeks with a baronet's lady, had juft left her 
 card with a marchionefs, and was promifed 
 a feat in a duchefs's box at the opera. This 
 lady, although exhibiting the countenance 
 and figure of more than forty years of age, 
 was drelTed like a ftylifli girl of eighteen : 
 (he was adorned, or rather ftriped, with 
 necklaces, bracelets, and armlets, and fhe 
 took infinite pains to difplay the numerous 
 rings that hooped her fingers, for fhe was 
 continually flourifhing her hands, and railing 
 them to her head. Mifs Vainlove endea- 
 voured to dazzle us with the fplendour of 
 
 her
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 305 
 
 her drefs, which was of the newcft fafhion. 
 She talked of carnages of various kinds, and 
 the comparative convenience of curricles, 
 laundauiets, and barouches, but the more 
 ilie laid, the more ihe expoied her vanity and 
 affectation. Mifs Role, another young lady 
 of a very diffident appearance, was dreffed 
 very plainly, and had a fenfibility in her 
 countenance and a ibftnefs in her manners 
 that were very engaging j {lie faid little, but 
 it was evident from her expreffive looks Ihe 
 thought much of the converfation incredible, 
 and all of it extraordinary. Mr. Sycophant 
 was upon the alert, whenever he found an 
 opportunity to make an obfervation : all his 
 fpeeches were complimentary, and adapted 
 to each perfon with confiderable addrefs. 
 He compared Major Ratler to John Duke of 
 Marlborough, and to Charles the twelfth of 
 Sweden. He allured Mrs. Voluble ihe looked 
 more charmingly every day : he told Mifs 
 Vainlove fhe had the moft refined tafte in drefs 
 of any lady in town ; and he whifpered acrofs 
 vol. i. x the
 
 306 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 
 
 the table to Mr. Good, that his laft charity 
 fermon would have done honour to a biiliop. 
 
 This clergyman had no chance of gaining 
 his fhare of the converfation among fo many 
 inceflant tattlers, fo he fat quietly fipping 
 his coffee, and had no other ambition to 
 diftinguifli himfelf, than occaiionally to catch 
 the attention of the humbleit of the dramatis 
 perfonae in this motley group, viz. Mifs 
 Rofe and myfelf. 
 
 Now fuppofing I had endeavoured to 
 form an intimacy with any of the more pro- 
 minent and dafhing part of this company, 
 in confequence of my conceiving a high 
 idea of their importance, and had formed a 
 ftrong prepoffeffion in favour of their fupe- 
 rior merit from their difplay of themfelves 
 in the manner I have defcribed, what a 
 grofs miftake iliould I have made, and into 
 what an embarraffment I might have been 
 led ! and what injuftice I might have done 
 to the truly worthy and amiable perfons in 
 the company, if I had conceived a mean 
 opinion of them, becauie they did not force 
 
 them-
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 307 
 
 themfelves upon my notice by a itylifh ap- 
 pearance, and mediant tattling. 
 
 For now, my dear Emily, I am going to 
 prefent to you thefe perfonages diverted of 
 the ornaments in which they difguifed them- 
 felves, and appearing in their real charac- 
 ters. Major Ratler had not feen half the 
 ferviee of which he boafted ; and lb far from 
 having any jufi grounds to complain of go- 
 vernment, he had been difmilTed the ferviee 
 for making too free with the money of his 
 regiment. The filent and fedate Captain 
 Manly was an officer of great merit, who had 
 experienced many " A hair breadth 'fcape 
 in the imminent deadly breach." But like 
 a truly brave man, content with the confei- 
 oufnefs of having done his duty, he left his 
 praife to the voices of others. Mrs. Vo- 
 luble, the falhionable Mrs. Voluble, will 
 you believe it? formerly kept a Milliner's 
 fhop in Bond-ftreet, and on retiring from 
 bufmefs with a competent fortune, was found 
 fo ufeful to many ladies of faihion. that in 
 return for the honour of their invitations, 
 
 x 2 (he
 
 308 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 
 
 Hie gave them tafte in caps, bonnets, rib- 
 bons, and dreffes ; and this will account for 
 her boaftcd intimacy with the nobility. As 
 for Mils Vainlove, her father had been a 
 coach-maker in Long-acre, and this will 
 give you a clue to her accurate knowledge 
 of carriages. Mils Rofe was a well-edu- 
 cated girl of great merit, who ftruck ine 
 leaft at firft fight, but was raifed the higher 
 in my efteem, the more frequently I con- 
 verfed with her. Mr. Sycophant's character 
 correfponded exactly with his name ; he had 
 formed fo degrading an opinion of mankind, 
 as to think they could all be made the 
 dupes of the grofleft flattery, and the fuccefs 
 he often met with in the application of this 
 principle, gave him fufficient encouragement 
 to perfevere in his artful practice. To con- 
 clude my explanation of thefe characters, 
 the clergyman was a perfon of modeft merit 
 and learning, but his gentle voice was fel- 
 dom heard, or rather was drowned in the 
 general torrent of converfation. 
 
 I flatter
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 309 
 
 I flatter myfelf that if Lavater, the great 
 adept in phyfiognomy, had been with me, he 
 would have applauded my mode of difcrimi- 
 nating characters. I make this conclufion from 
 the following excellent remark. u Wherever 
 I meet the fmile of felf-fufficiency, or the ob- 
 lique look of envy, I turn away, and feek 
 him who remains oppreffed by the loud 
 Toice of confidence. I placed myfelf rather 
 by the fide of the anfwerer, than the man 
 of clamorous loquacity, and ftill lboner by 
 the fide of the humble inquirer, than the vo- 
 luble folver of all difficulties." 
 
 Such a fcene as I have defcribed is not 
 fingular. Believe me, my Emily, you will 
 often be prefent at a fimilar difplay of 
 ftrongly marked, and as ftrongly contrafted 
 characters. Paufe, and examine them as 
 I did, or you may be led into error, If you 
 fuffer yourfelf to be dazzled by appearance, 
 and milled by plaufibility, you may too late 
 lament your folly and credulity. You will 
 form attachments to thofe whom you ought 
 to avoid, and you will encourage prejudices 
 
 againlt
 
 310 THE DECEPTION Ot APPEARANCES. 
 
 againft thofe who are in all refpecls worthy 
 of your etteeni. When you go into com- 
 pany, look beyond the mere ornaments of 
 the per foil, in which the belles and beaux 
 are decorated, and fearch for thofe of the 
 mind. Amid the overbearing afiertions, and 
 loud laughs of felf-fuflicient arrogance, be 
 attentive to the gentle voice and downcaft 
 looks of unaffuming merit. An amiable 
 temper, good fenfe, genuine modefty, and 
 unaffected delicacy, true politenefs, ufeful 
 attainments, elegant accomplishments, and 
 virtuous difpofitions, are the brighteft jewels 
 that can engage your obfervation. Thefe are 
 not open to the gaze of every tranfient fpec- 
 tator, but may be difcovered by the careful 
 cbferver. If you once acquire a true relifh 
 for them, you will foon abate your eager- 
 r>efs to behold, and foon correct your difpo- 
 ikion to admire the glittering forms of fafhion, 
 equipage, drefs, and pomp, and you will 
 fearch for the treafures that lie concealed in 
 the head and the heart, and are intrinfically 
 bright and valuable, which power," opulence, 
 
 and
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 311 
 
 and rank can neither give nor take away, and 
 which will be in faihion, not for a fleeting 
 month or two, but in every ftate and every 
 change of fociety. 
 
 Would it not be thought a reflection 
 upon our understandings, if we judged 
 in the fame manner of the excellence of 
 fome of the inferior clalfes of the animal 
 creation from their external appearances, as 
 we fometimes do with refpect to mankind ? 
 How gaudy are the peacock and the butter- 
 fly, how beautiful are the ravenous leopard, 
 and the poifonous fnake ! In what plain at- 
 tire has nature drefled the induftrious bee, 
 the ant, the iheep, the cow, and the horfe. 
 You muft be prepared to take notice that the 
 man of the greateft merit in company may 
 not be a finifhed beau, or decorated with a 
 gaudy military uniform, poffibly he may be 
 drefled in the moft unoftentatious manner ; 
 and perhaps the lady whofe acquaintance, 
 and even intimacy, would prove a great ad- 
 dition to your comfort, may be a month or 
 two behind hand in point of faihion, and 
 
 may
 
 312 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 
 
 may neither keep a carriage, nor a foot- 
 man, 
 
 For 'tis the mind that makes the body rich, 
 And as the fun breaks through the darkefl clouds, 
 So honour peereth in the meaneft. habit. 
 What ! is the jay more precious than the lark, 
 Becaufe his feathers are more beautiful ? 
 Or is the adder better than the eel, 
 Becaufe his painted fkjn. contents the eye ? 
 O no good Kate, neither art thou the worfe, 
 For this poor furniture, and mean array *. 
 
 The rules of good manners doubtlefs re- 
 quire us to be polite and affable to all to 
 whom we are introduced, but before we pro- 
 ceed to cultivate an acquaintance we mult 
 recollect, that we ought not to pay that 
 homage to drefs and ornament, which is 
 due to virtue and merit. We rnuft imitate 
 the real connoifleur in pictures ; he fets little 
 value upon the gilded frame, or the high 
 varnHh,but he accurately examines the whole 
 fubject of the picture, and if he rinds in it 
 intrinlic excellence, if he traces the pencil of 
 
 * Shakcfpeare's Taming of the Shrew. 
 
 a Ra-
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 313 
 
 a Ilaphael, a Titian, or a Guido, he fets the 
 highcft value upon it, and experiences in- 
 creafing pleafuie, the more frequently he 
 furveys it. 
 
 Upon this fubjecl; of judging by appear- 
 ances, Shakefpeare can give you another ad- 
 mirable leifon from the Merchant of Venice.. 
 The vain prince of Morocco flatters himfelf 
 he mall obtain the beautiful Portia in mar- 
 riage by choofing the golden cafket. His 
 decifion proves the folly of trulting to out- 
 ward mow. Far differently does Baffanio, 
 the true lover, reafon and determine. 
 
 The world is ftill deceived by ornament, 
 There is no vice fo fimple, but afiumes 
 Some mark of virtue in his outward parts ; 
 
 He therefore prefers the leaden caffcet, and 
 to his great delight finds in it the portrait of 
 his beloved Portia, and the fair original be- 
 comes the reward of his difcernment. 
 
 As you are beginning to difcriminate cha- 
 racters, you are gradually making a proorefs 
 in the moft ufeful of all ftudies, the know* 
 
 ledge
 
 314 THE DUCEPTIOft OF ArPSA'RAKTCES. 
 
 kdge of the world ; but your proficiency i'n 
 reading mankind will, I truft, be conftantly 
 ftt tended by the exercife of candour and ge- 
 nerality ; for if you are acute enough to find 
 e-at the predominant or the concealed pal- 
 lions, weakneffes, and foibles of others, you 
 ought neither to hold them up to ridicule, 
 nor endeavour to bend them to your own 
 intereited purpofes. The prime advantage 
 of this knowledge will be fecured, if you 
 learn to be upon \our guard againit fiich as 
 you diicover to be artful and iniidious ; to de- 
 iplta the mean and the unprincipled, to eiteem 
 the meritorious, and to admit to your confi- 
 dence and friendiliip none but thofe whofe 
 characters and conducl will Itand the teit of 
 inlet inquiry. 
 
 Before I conclude thefe obiervations, let 
 me remind you of the diitinguiihed figure 
 made by Mr. Sycophant in the party I de- 
 feribed. You muft guard with unremitting 
 caution againit the fnares, which he and all 
 his numerous family are conftantly letting to 
 entrap the female heart. They will fcatter 
 
 around
 
 THE DECEPTION OF APPEARANCES. 3 15 
 
 around you the Tweet eflence of flattery, but 
 if they are adepts in their art, and fufpccl 
 you perceive their deiign, the'y will dhninifh 
 the quantity, or prefent it to you at a more 
 propitious moment. In proportion as you 
 add the knowledge of yourfelj to the know- 
 ledge of others, and become feniible of the 
 defects of your own character, and the num- 
 ber of your own fault?, you will fee, that 
 the mirror held up to you by adulation, 
 gives you by far too favourable a view of 
 yourfelf, and if you once difcover that flat- 
 tery is a tribute paid to your vanity, at the 
 expenfe of your underftanding, you will be 
 convinced, that it is unworthy of your ac- 
 ceptance, unlefs you choofe to receive it as 
 ironical, or a fatire, and then you ought to 
 let the giver know by the manner in which 
 you thank him, that you perfectly underftand 
 his meaning, and think him entitled — not to 
 your gratitude, but your ridicule and your 
 contempt. 
 
 LET-
 
 LETTER XL 
 
 From the fame to the fame, 
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 I am not at all furprifed to hear that you 
 axe delighted with your new acquaintance 
 Mils S. and your expreflions of regard for 
 her,, fiow naturally from the warm and inge- 
 nuous feelings of your heart. Allow me, 
 however, to aik you before you and Mifs S — , 
 like Matilda Pottingen and Cecilia Muck- 
 ingfeldt, in the ludicrous play of The Rovers, 
 Iwear, *' an eternal friendihip ;" whether 
 your partiality proceeds only from her gay 
 and lively converfation, her ftylim appear- 
 ance, and the whim of the moment? If 
 
 theft*
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 317 
 
 thefe are the flight materials of which your 
 eternal friendmip is compofed, it can hardly 
 be expected to continue longer than the 
 fafhion of a cap, or a ribbon, and ferve for 
 jour amufement for half a dozen routs and 
 concerts. 
 
 As your Letter to me upon this iubjecl 
 gives me io fair an opportunity, I mall make 
 a few remarks, which may ferve as a teft, 
 by which you may try the pretenfions of 
 your new friend to your efteem and affec- 
 tion. 
 
 No attachment merits the exalted name 
 of friciidjlup, unlefs it be not only warm, 
 but fincere and perfectly difinterefted ; ifc 
 cannot, therefore, exift without virtue for \ii 
 foundation. I leave you then to determine 
 what pretenfions the exceflive lovers of plea- 
 fure or riches, the very vain, proud, capri- 
 cious, or fervile can have to your friend- 
 ship ; much lefs perlbns who are grofsly im- 
 moral, and vitious. All they are capable of 
 is an acquaintance fuggefted by their own 
 felfifh gratification, or intereft an acquaint- 
 ance
 
 SI 8 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 ance fhort-lived and tranfient, becaufe it is 
 continually changing with the objects of their 
 purfuit. 
 
 Of real friendfliip as I feel the ftrong and 
 delightful influence, I will endeavour to de- 
 fcribe the nature and properties. I feel it 
 for my worthy neighbour and exemplary 
 Paftor Dr. Harriot, combined with a por- 
 tion of veneration. For you, my beloved 
 daughter, I feel it founded on paternal ten- 
 dernefs and love, and of courfe animated 
 with the greateft warmth. Confidered in its 
 general nature, it is the tie that binds per- 
 fons of equal or nearly equal rank in life ; it 
 originates in congeniality of difpofition, good- 
 nefs of heart, and fmcerity and confiftency of 
 character, and conduct. It is confirmed by 
 mutual acts of kind nefs, and is ri vetted by 
 notliing fo clofely as by the participation of 
 the fame misfortunes. It banifhes all felf- 
 ifhnefs, for the feparate interefts of friends 
 foon become identified, and unite in the 
 fame ftream. Did not Diogenes enter into 
 the fpirit of true friendfhip when he obierved, 
 £ on
 
 ©\ T friendship. Sip 
 
 on borrowing money of his friend, " that 
 he did but afk for his own." If one friend 
 be prosperous, it gives the other more de- 
 light than if fortune had fouled on him- 
 fel£ h\ Ihort, friendlhip is necefikry for 
 the comfort of every iituation and every 
 period of lite ; without it profperity is joy- 
 lefs and iinpcrfecr, and adveriity is infup- 
 portabie. It heightens; I had almoft faid 
 OQoftitutes the pieafures of youth ; it is the 
 fupport of age, and fometimes proves "its 
 only earthly confolation. 
 
 This you may fay is a beautiful theory, 
 or picture of friendlhip, as it exiited in the 
 golden age, but arc we to expect among the 
 Weak and frail mortals, who have lived fince, 
 fuch friends as anfwer the defcription? I am 
 neither lb fully convinced of the caprice or 
 the depravity of mankind, nor fo inclined 
 to doubt the truth of hiftory, as to fuppoie 
 that the account we have of David and 
 Jonathan, Py lades and Oreftes, Damon and 
 phintias, Scipio aud Laclius, are fabulous. 
 Nor do I think the world, even in our own 
 
 times,
 
 320 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 times, is become fo degenerate, that if you 
 defer ve a true friend, you may not find one ; 
 only you muft make great allowances, as 
 your friend muft in your cafe, for the foibles 
 and infirmities incident to human nature. 
 And it is of prime importance to mark the 
 diftinelion very ftrongiy between companions 
 and friends ; a diitinction very necelfary to 
 be pointed out to the young and thoughtlefs. 
 The former may be found in all places, where 
 there is any thing deferving the name of fo- 
 ciety : the latter are almoft as rare as aloes 
 in bloffom, or eagles upon our mountains ; 
 and you may think yourfelf happy, if, exclu- 
 iive of the circle of your own relations, you 
 meet with two or three in the courfe of all 
 your life. . 
 
 A lone feparation may weaken, and death 
 may interrupt, but neither of them can dif- 
 folve fuch a friendfhip as that I have de- 
 fcribed to you. Such was that I felt for 
 Captain Ofborn, of my own regiment, with 
 whom I fhared tile dangers and hardihips of 
 many a campaign. His temper was warm,. 
 
 frank ,
 
 OX FRIENDSHIP. 321 
 
 iYank, and generous ; his knowledge of the 
 world extenfjve ; his manners elegant ; his 
 accompliihments various ; his attachment to 
 me proved hy many an inftance of diiinte- 
 reited exertion. He died at Gibraltar, and 
 as there were no relations to conduct the- 
 mournful ceremony of his interment, it de- 
 volved on me. Upon his grave, over which 
 the laurel and the cyprefs wave their united 
 branches, I fhed the tear of undifiembled 
 forrow ; but that tear will never acquit me 
 of an obligation which my heart tells me is 
 indiifoluble. I am fenfible I have ftili a tri- 
 bute to pay to him, which is no lefs my fo- 
 lace than my duty. I ought to cherifh his 
 memory, and proclaim his praife; and as I 
 am convinced, that no monument I could 
 raife to his fame would be more acceptable, 
 I am determined to perlevere in that path of 
 honour we trod together with double delight, 
 becaufe the one was confident that it was ap- 
 proved by the other. Whether in the fepa- 
 rate fiate of the foul my friend is fo far into 
 refted in the affairs of this lower world as to 
 
 VOL. I. Y fed
 
 322 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 feel any fatisfacfion in this my eonducr, I 
 am ignorant; but of this I am perfuadcd, 
 that it is a great encouragement to virtuous 
 attachments to think that they are not mor- 
 tal, like the men who form them, but will 
 flouriih to all eternity. With what ardour 
 do I embrace the fentiment of Tickell, con- 
 veyed in the beautiful invocation to his de- 
 parted friend Addifon I 
 
 " O if fometimes thy fpotlefs foul defcend, 
 To me thy aid, thou guardian Genius, lend! 
 When Rage mifguides me, or when Fear alarms, 
 "When Pain diftrefles, or when Plcafure charms, 
 In filent whifperings purer thoughts impart, 
 And turn from ill a frail and feeble heart; 
 Lead through the paths thy virtue trod before, 
 Till Blifs mall join, nor Death can part us more/' 
 
 You may aik, what is the duty of a friend? 
 It includes the performance of every office 
 which Affection can dictate, and Virtue ap- 
 prove. Judicious and temperate admoni- 
 tion forms one of its important exercifes. 
 
 Your
 
 OX FRIENDSHIP. iJ23 
 
 Your friend will feel peculiar pain when the 
 obierves you at any time deviating from the 
 line of propriety : in any fach cafe me will 
 not be influenced by any falie delicacy to 
 preferve an unbecoming iilence, nor will ihe 
 affume the malk of a flatterer, and applaud 
 you againft the conviction of her judgment; 
 no, flie will rather take the firfi favourable 
 opportunity of giving her candid opinion, 
 and will remonftrate with you in the moil 
 delicate manner ; but then me will neither 
 hurt your feelings by her feverity, nor offend 
 your pride by an affectation of fuperior fenfe, 
 or fuperior dignity; flie will endeavour to 
 convince you, that her remonftrances flow 
 from difmterefted kindnefs, and having no 
 reafon to doubt her fmcerity, you ought im- 
 plicitly to believe her. 
 
 Give her the cleareft proofs of your con- 
 fidence ; conceal no foible, palliate no im- 
 propriety. Receive from her with gratitude 
 the kind reproof that flows from tendernefs 
 and a defire for your happinefs, Confefs 
 
 vour
 
 524 ON FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 your faults to her with all candor, and cor- 
 rect them at her mitigation with all diligence; 
 fo mail you be more worthy of your own ap- 
 probation, and of her love. 
 
 But fhe will not only lhow her zealous 
 attachment by words ; her actions will con- 
 vince you that flic deferv.es to be confidered 
 as another felf : me will rejoice in your pro- 
 fperity, and do every thing in her power to 
 promote it ; and mould any afflicting event 
 happen, me will divide the burden of your 
 forrows. The lonely fufferer feels the fmart 
 of pain, or the load of misfortune, almoft in- 
 fupportable ; but when her friend appears, 
 ffie is inftantly relieved ; her mind becomes 
 tranquillized, and the fmilcs of pleafure foon 
 fucceed to the tears of affliction. Thus the 
 fun darts his rays through the ftormy clouds, 
 and the profpect of nature brightens with 
 greater luftre, from the contrail with its recent 
 
 CD ' 
 
 gloominefs. 
 
 There are perfons who think that women 
 
 are not fo capable of firm and lafting friend- 
 
 mip for each other as men; and for that 
 
 I reafon
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 325 
 
 rcafon the eminent examples of friendiliip 
 recorded in hiftory relate folely to our fex. 
 For my part, I muft do them the juftice 
 to fay, that I know many inftances of their 
 attachment, which intitle them to lliare the 
 praife of friendiliip with the " Lords of the 
 Creation." Perhaps they are unfortunate, 
 as the lion in the fable well obferved with 
 refpeet to the victories obtained by his own 
 fpecies over men, in having no hiftorians of 
 their own fex. But if it be true that we do 
 really excel in this refpecl;, let the ladies of 
 the prefent day emulate the example we have 
 fet them, and as far as is in their power ef- 
 face the imputation of ficklenefs cait upon 
 their fex. The friendship of amiable females 
 for each other, exclufive of various other ad- 
 vantages, cannot fail to increafe the motive* 
 for our love of them ; for love, however fu- 
 perior in ardor to friendiliip, poflelTes in 
 common with it the fame principles of dif- 
 intereftednefs, conftancy, and fincerity, to 
 render its nature perfect. 
 
 To
 
 e 
 
 26 ON FRIENDSHIP, 
 
 To return to the fubject which fuggefted 
 thefe obfervations. — As I well know that to 
 pour the warm effufions of the heart into the 
 hofom of a friend is at all periods of life, 
 and particularly at your's, to be ranked 
 amongft our moft exquifite pleafures, far be 
 it from me to check the current of your joys 
 by oppoiing to it any unnecefTary obftacle. 
 All I wiih is to direct that current to a right 
 channel. All I wifh is to guard you — againft 
 the forwardnefs and infinuations of any who 
 may wifh to intrude into your heart; — againft 
 ever tafting the bitter fruits of mifapplied con- 
 fidence, and adding one to the lift of thole 
 who complain of the ingratitude, perfidy, 
 and treachery of mankind. 
 
 If then you have reafon to conclude from 
 your own attentive obfervation, and the belt 
 information you can obtain, that Mifs S. is 
 good-natured, virtuous, modeft, and difcreet, 
 and has fenfe and fenlibility enough to love 
 you unfeignedly; encourage her advances to 
 your confidence, nourim the young plant of 
 
 your
 
 ON FRIENDSHIP. 327 
 
 your friendfhip, and may it produce the 
 moft abundant fruits and flowers of fympa- 
 thy and mutual confidence throughout the 
 whole courfe of your lives ; may it be fof- 
 tered by the funfhine of your fmiles, and 
 never watered by the tears of your regret ! 
 
 END OF VOL. I. 
 
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