<\^ x--:'v THE PROSE WORKS OF MRS, ELLIS, AUTHOR OF "THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND," "THE POETEY OF LIFE," ETC. IN TWO VOLUMES. VOL. I. NEW YORK: HENRY G. LANGLEY, 8 ASTOR HOUSE. 1845. Stack v,l CONTENTS. VOL. I. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. THE MOTHERS OF ENGLAND. ADVERTISEMENT. So universally acceptable have the various productions of Mrs. Ellis become, not only in England but equally so in our country, that it is believed a collected edition of them could not fail to ensure a welcome from her many admirers. The themes selected in the present volumes, and which have so successfully engaged her pen, while invested with a pleasing fascination of style, yet inculcate sound lessons of practical wis- dom and moral virtue, with such earnest persuasiveness of appeal, that few can rise from their perusal unimproved. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND: THEIR SOCIAL DUTIES, AND DOMESTIC HABITS AUTHOR OF "THE POETRY OF LIFE," "PICTURES OF PRIVATE LIFE," STC. KO. UNIFORM EDITION, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, NEW-YORK: HENRY G. LANGLEY, 8 ASTOR HOUSE, 1844. PREFACE. AT a time when the pressure of stir- ring events, and the urgency of public and private interests, render it increas- ingly desirable that every variety of la- bor should be attended with an immediate and adequate return ; I feel that some apology is necessary for the presumption of inviting the attention of the public to a work, in which I have been compelled to enter into the apparently insignificant detail of familiar and ordinary life. The often- repeated truth that " trifles make the sum of human things," must plead my excuse ; as well as the fact, that while our libraries are stored with books of excellent advice on general con- duct, we have no single work containing the particular minutise of practical duty, to which I have felt myself called upon to invite the consideration of the young women of the present day. We have many valuable dissertations upon female character, as exhibited on the broad scale of virtue ; but no direct definition of those minor parts of domestic and social inter- course, which strengthen into habit, and consequently form the basis of moral character. It is worthy of remark, also, that these writers have addressed their observations almost exclusively to ladies, or occasion- ally to those who hold a subordinate situ- ation under the influence of ladies; while that estimable class of females who might be more specifically denominated women, and who yet enjoy the privilege of liberal education, with exemption from the pe- cuniary necessities of labor, are almost wholly overlooked. It is from a high estimate of the im- portance of this class in upholding the moral worth of our country, that I have addressed my remarks especially to them ; and in order to do so with more effect, I have ventured to penetrate into the famil- iar scenes of domestic life, and have thus endeavored to lay bare some of the causes which frequently lie hidden at the root of general conduct. Had I not known before the commence- ment of this work, its progress would soon have convinced me, that in order to per- form my task with candor and faithful- ness, I must renounce all idea of what is called fine writing ; because the very na- ture of the duty I have undertaken, re- stricts me to the consideration of subjects, too minute in themselves, to admit of their being expatiated upon with eloquence by the writer too familiar to produce upon the reader any startling effect. Had I even felt within myself a capability for treating any subject in this manner, I should have been willing in this instance to resign all opportunity of such display, if, by so doing, I could more clearly point out to my countrywomen, by what means they may best meet that pressing exigen- cy of the times, which so urgently de- mands a fresh exercise of moral power on their part, to win back to the homes of England the boasted felicity for which they once were famed. Anxious as I am to avoid the charge of unnecessary trifling on a subject so seri- ous as the moral worth of the women of England, there is beyond this a consider- ation of far higher importance, to which PREFACE. I would invite the candid attention of the serious part of the public, while I offer, what appears to me a sufficient apology, for having written a book on the subject of morals, without having made it strictly religious. I should be sorry indeed, if, by so doing, I brought upon myself the suspicion of yielding for one moment to the belief that there is any other sure foundation for good morals, than correct religious principle ; but I do believe, that, with the Divine blessing, a foundation may be laid in early life, before the heart has been illuminated by Divine truth, or has experienced its renovating power, for those domestic habits, and relative duties, which in after life will materially assist the development of the Christian charac- ter. And I am the more convinced of this, because we sometimes see, in sincere and devoted Christians, such peculiarities of conduct as materially hinder their usefulness such early-formed habits, as they themselves would be glad to escape from, but which continue to cling around them in their earthly course, like the clustering of weeds in the traveller's path. It may perhaps more fully illustrate my view of this important subject to say, that those who would train up young peo- ple without the cultivation of moral hab- its, trusting solely to the future influence of religion upon their hearts, are like mariners, who, while they wait for their bark to be safely guided out to sea, allow their sails to swing idly in the wind, their cordage to become entangled, and the general outfit of their vessel to suffer in- jury and decay ; so that when the pilot comes on board they lose much of the advantage of his services, and fail to de- rive the anticipated benefit from his pres- ence. All that I would venture to recommend with regard to morals, is, that the order and right government of the vessel should, as far as is possible, be maintained, so that when the hope of better and surer guidance is realized, and the heavenly Pilot in his own good time arrives, all things may be ready nothing out of or- der, and nothing wanting, for a safe and prosperous voyage. It is therefore solely to the cultivation of habits that I have confined my atten- tion to the minor morals of domestic life. And I have done this, because there are so many abler pens than mine employed in teaching and enforcing the essential truths of religion ; because there is an evident tendency in society, as it exists in the present day, to overlook these minor points ; and because it is impossible for them to be neglected, without serious in- jury to the Christian character. SARAH STICKNEY ELLIS. PBNTONVILLI, Nov. 1838. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER I. | CHARACTERISTICS OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. EVERT country has its peculiar character- istics, not only of climate and scenery, of public institutions, government, and laws ; but every country has also its moral charac- teristics, upon which is founded its true title to a station, either high or low, in the scale of nations. The national characteristics of England are the perpetual boast of her patriotic sons ; and there is one especially which it behooves all British subjects not only to exult in, but to cherish and maintain. Leaving the justice of her laws, the extent of her commerce, and the amount of her resources, to the orator, the statesman, and the political economist, there yet remains one of the noblest features in her national character, which may not im- properly be regarded as within the compass of a woman's understanding, and the prov- ince of a woman's pen. It is the domestic character of England the home comforts, and fireside virtues for which she is so justly celebrated. These I hope to be able to speak of without presumption, as intimately asso- ciated with, and dependent upon, the moral feelings and habits of the women of this fa- vored country. It is therefore in reference to these alone that I shall endeavor to treat the subject of England's nationality ; and in order to do this with more precision, it is necessary to draw the line of observation within a nar- rower circle, and to describe what are the i characteristics of the women of England. I ; ought, perhaps, in strict propriety, to say what were their characteristics ; because I would justify the obtrusiveness of a work like this by first premising that the women of England are deteriorating in their moral character, and that false notions of refine- ment are rendering them less influential, less useful, and less happy than they were. In speaking of what English women were, I would not be understood to refer to what they were a century ago. Facilities in the way of mental improvement have greatly in- creased during this period. In connection with moral discipline, these facilities are in- valuable ; but I consider the two excellences as having been combined in the greatest per- fection in the general average of women who have now attained to middle, or rather ad- vanced age. When the cultivation of the mental faculties had so far advanced as to take precedence of the moral, by leaving no time for domestic usefulness, and the practice of personal exertion in the way of promoting general happiness, the character of the wo- men of England assumed a different aspect, which is now beginning to tell upon society in the sickly sensibilities, the feeble frames, and the useless habits of the rising generation. In stating this humiliating fact, I must be blind indeed to the most cheering aspect of modern society, not to perceive that there are signal instances of women who carry about with them into every sphere of domes- tic duty, even the most humble and obscure, the accomplishments and refinements of mod- ern education ; and who deem it rather an honor than a degradation to be permitted to add to the sum of human happiness, by dif- fusing the embellishments of mind and man- G CHARACTERISTICS OF ners over the homely and familiar aspect of every-day existence. Such, however, do not constitute the ma- jority of the female population of Great Britain. By far the greater portion of the young ladies (for they are no longer women) of the present day, are distinguished by a morbid listlessness of mind and body, except when under the influence of stimulus, a con- stant pining for excitement, and an eagerness to escape from every thing like practical and individual duty. Of course, I speak of those whose minds are not under the influence of religious principle. Would that the. excep- tion could extend to all who profess to be governed by this principle ! Gentle, inoffensive, delicate, and passively amiable as many young ladies are, it seems an ungracious task to attempt to rouse them from their summer dream ; and were it not that wintry days will come, and the surface of life be ruffled, and the mariner, even she who steers the smallest bark, be put upon the inquiry for what port she is really bound were it not that the cry of utter helplessness is of no avail in rescuing from the waters of affliction, and the plea of ignorance unheard upon the far-extending and deep ocean of experience, and the question of accounta- bility perpetually sounding, like the voice of a warning spirit, above the storms and the billows of this lower world I would be one of the very last to call the dreamer back to a consciousness of present things. But this state of listless indifference, my sisters, must not be. You have deep responsibilities ; you have urgent claims ; a nation's moral worth is in your keeping. Let us inquire then in what way it may be best preserved. Let us consider what you are, and have been, and by what peculiarities of feeling and habit you have been able to throw so much additional weight into the scale of your country's worth. In order to speak with precision of the characteristics of any class of people, it is necessary to confine our attention as much as possible to that portion of the class where such characteristics are most prominent ; and, avoiding the two extremes where cir- cumstances not peculiar to that class are supposed to operate, to take the middle or intervening portion as a specimen of the whole. Napoleon Bonaparte was accustomed to speak of the English nation as a " nation of shopkeepers ;" and when we consider the number, the influence, and the respectability of that portion of the inhabitants who are, directly or indirectly, connected with our trade and merchandise, it does indeed ap- pear to constitute the mass of English so- ciety, and may justly be considered as ex- hibiting the most striking and unequivocal proofs of what are the peculiar characteris- tics of the people of England. It is not therefore from the aristocracy of the land that the characteristics of English women should be taken ; because the higher the rank, and the greater the facilities of com- munication with other countries, the more prevalent are foreign manners, and modes of thinking and acting common to that class of society in other countries. Neither is it en- tirely among the indigent and most laborious of the community, that we can with pro- priety look for those strong features of na- tionality, which stamp the moral character of different nations ; because the urgency of mere physical wants, and the pressure of constant and necessary labor, naturally in- duce a certain degree of resemblance in so- cial feelings and domestic habits, among people similarly circumstanced, to whatever country they may belong. In looking around, then, upon our " nation of shopkeepers," we readily perceive that by dividing society into three classes, as regards what is commonly called rank, the middle class must include so vast a portion of the intelligence and moral power of the country at large, that it may not improperly be desig- nated the pillar of our nation's strength, its base being the important class of the labo- rious poor, and its rich and highly ornamental capital, the ancient nobility of the land. In no other country is society thus beautifully pro- portioned, and England should beware of any THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. deviation from the order and symmetry of her national column. There never was a more short-sighted view of society, than that by which the wo- men of our country have lately learned to look with envious eyes upon their superiors in rank, to rival their attainments, to imitate their manners, and to pine for the luxuries they enjoy ; and consequently to look down with contempt upon the appliances and means of humbler happiness. The women of England were once better satisfied with that instrumentality of Divine ' wisdom by which they were placed in their proper sphere. They were satisfied to do with their own hands what they now leave un- done, or repine that they cannot have others to do for them. A system of philosophy was once promul- gated in France, by which it was attempted to be proved that so much of the power and the cleverness of man was attributable to his hand, that but for a slight difference in the formation of this organ in some of the infe- rior animals, they would have been entitled to rank in the same class with him. Whatever may be said of the capabilities of man's hand, I believe the feminine qualification of being able to use the hand willingly and well, has a great deal to do with the moral influence of woman. The personal services she is thus enabled to render, enhance her value in the domestic circle, and when such services are performed with the energy of a sound under- standing, and the grace of an accomplished mind above all, with the disinterested kind- ness of a generous heart they not only dig- nify the performer, but confer happiness, as well as obligation. Indeed, so great is the charm of personal attentions arising sponta- neously from the heart, that women of the highest rank in society, and far removed from the necessity of individual exertion, are fre- quently observed to adopt habits of personal kindness .towards others, not only as the surest means of giving pleasure, but as a natural and grateful relief to the overflowings of their own affections. There is a principle in woman's love, that renders it impossible for her to be satisfied without actually doing something for the ob- ject of her regard. I speak only of woman in her refined and elevated character. Vani- ty can satiate itself with admiration, and selfishness can feed upon services received ; but woman's love is an overflowing and inex- haustible fountain, that must be perpetually imparting from the source of its own blessed- ness. It needs but slight experience to know, that the mere act of loving our fellow-crea- tures does little towards the promotion of their happiness. The human heart is not so credulous as to continue to believe in affec- tion without practical proof. Thus the inter- change of mutual kind offices begets a confi- dence which cannot be made to grow out of any other foundation ; and while gratitude is added to the connecting link, the character on each side is strengthened by the personal energy required for the performance of every duty. There may exist great sympathy, kind- ness, and benevolence of feeling, without the power of bringing any of these emotions into exercise for the benefit of others. They exist as emotions only. And thus the means which appear to us as the most gracious and benig- nant of any that could have been adopted by our heavenly Father for rousing us into ne- cessary exertion, are permitted to die away, fruitless and unproductive, in the breast, where they ought to have operated as a blessing and means of happiness to others. It is not uncommon to find negatively amiable individuals, who sink under a weight of indolence, and suffer from innate selfish- ness a gradual contraction of mind, perpetu- ally lamenting their own inability to do good. It would be ungenerous to doubt their sin- cerity in these regrets. We therefore only conclude that the want of habits of personal usefulness has rendered them mentally im- becile, and physically inert ; whereas, had the same individuals been early accustomed to bodily exertion, promptly and cheerfully performed on the spur of the moment, with- out waiting to question whether it was agree- able or not, the very act of exertion would 8 CHARACTERISTICS OF have become a pleasure, and the benevolent purpose to which such exertions might be applied, a source of the highest enjoyment Time was when the women of England were accustomed, almost from their child- hood, to the constant employment of their hands. It might be sometimes in elaborate works of fancy, now ridiculed for their want of taste, and still more frequently in house- hold avocations, now fallen into disuse from their incompatibility with modern refinement I cannot speak with unqualified praise of all the objects on which they bestowed their attention ; but, if it were possible, I would write in characters of gold the indisputable fact, that the habits of industry and personal exertion thus acquired, gave them a strength and dignity of character, a power of useful- ness, and a capability of doing* good, which the higher theories of modern education fail to impart They were in some instances less qualified for travelling on the continent without an interpreter, but the women of whom I am speaking seldom went abroad. Their sphere of action was at their own fire- sides, and the world in which they moved was one where pleasure of the highest, purest order, naturally and necessarily arises out of acts of duty faithfully performed. Perhaps it may be necessary to be more specific in describing the class of women to which this work relates. It is, then, strictly speaking, to those who belong to that great mass of the population of England which is connected with trade and manufactures; ! or, in order to make the application more di- rect, to that portion of it who are restricted to the services of from one to four domestics, who, on the one hand, enjoy the advan- tages of a liberal education, and, on the other, have no pretension to family rank. It is, however, impossible but that many devia- tions from these lines of demarkation must occur, in consequence of the great change in their pecuniary circumstances, which many families during a short period experience, and the indefinite order of rank and station in which the elegances of life are enjoyed, or its privations endured. There is also this peculiarity to be taken into account, in our view of English society, that the acquisition of wealth, with the advantages it procures, is all that is necessary for advancement to aristocratic dignity ; while, on the other hand, so completely is the nation dependent upon her commercial resources, that it is no un- common thing to see individuals who lately ranked among the aristocracy, suddenly driven, by the failure of some bank or some mercantile speculation, into the lowest walks of life, and compelled to mingle with the la- borious poor. These facts are strong evidence in favor of a system of conduct that would enable all women to sink gracefully, and without mur- muring against Providence, into a lower grade of society. It is easy to learn to enjoy, but it is not easy to learn to suffer. Any woman of respectable education, pos- sessing a well-regulated mind, might move with ease and dignity into a higher sphere than that to which she had been accustomed ; but few women whose hands have been idle all their lives, can feel themselves compelled to do the necessary labor of a household, without a feeling of indescribable hardship, too frequently productive of a secret mur- muring against the instrumentality by which she was reduced to such a lot It is from the class of females above de- scribed, that we naturally look for the highest tone of moral feeling, because they are at the same time removed from the pressing neces- sities of absolute poverty, and admitted to the intellectual privileges of the great ; and thus, while they enjoy every facility in the way of acquiring knowledge, it is their still higher privilege not to be exempt from the domestic duties which call forth the best en- ergies of the female character. Where domestics abound, and there is a hired hand for every kindly office, it would be a work of supererogation for the mistress of the house to step forward, and assist with her own ; but where domestics are few, and the individuals who compose the household are thrown upon the consideration of the mothers, wives, and daughters for their daily THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 9 comfort, innumerable channels are opened for the overflow of those floods of human kindness, which it is one of the happiest and most ennobling duties of woman to administer to the weary frame, and to pour into the wounded mind. It is perhaps the nearest approach we can make towards any thing like a definition of what is most striking in the characteristics of the women of England, to say, that the nature of their domestic circumstances is such as to invest their characters with the threefold re- commendation of promptitude in action, ener- gy of thought, and benevolence of feeling. With all the responsibilities of family comfort and social enjoyment resting upon them, and un- aided by those troops of menials who throng the halls of the affluent and the great, they are kept alive to the necessity of making their own personal exertions conducive to the great end of promoting the happiness of those around them. They cannot sink into supineness, or suffer any of their daily duties to be neglected, but some beloved member of the household is made to feel the conse- quences, by enduring inconveniences which it is alike their pride and their pleasure to remove. The frequently recurring avoca- tions of domestic life admit of no delay. When the performance of any kindly office has to be asked for, solicited, and re-solicited, it loses more than half its charm. It is there- fore strictly in keeping with the fine tone of an elevated character to be beforehand with expectation, and thus to show, by the most delicate yet most effectual of all human means, that the object of attention, even when unheard and unseen, has been the subject of kind and affectionate solicitude. By experience in these apparently minute affairs, a woman of kindly feeling and prop- erly disciplined mind, soon learns to regu- late her actions also according to the prin- ciples of true wisdom, and hence arises that energy of thought for which the women of England are so peculiarly distinguished. Every passing event, however insignificant to the eye of the world, has its crisis, every occurrence its emergency, every cause its effect ; and upon these she has to calculate with precision, or the machinery of house- hold comfort is arrested in its movements, and thrown into disorder. Woman, however, would but ill supply the place appointed her by Providence, were she endowed with no other faculties than those of promptitude in action and energy of thought. Valuable as these may be, they would render her but a cold and cheerless companion, without the kindly affections and tender offices that sweeten human life. It is a high privilege, then, which the women of England enjoy, to be necessarily, and by the force of circumstances, thrown upon their affections, for the rule of their conduct in daily life. " What shall I do to gratify myself to be admired or to vary the tenor of my existence 1" are not the questions which a woman of right feelings asks on first awak- ing to the avocations of the day. Much more congenial to the highest attributes of woman's character, are inquiries such as these : " How shall I endeavor through this day to turn the time, the health, and the means permitted me to enjoy, to the best ac- count 1 Is any one sick 1 I must visit their chamber without delay, and try to give their apartment an air of comfort, by arranging such things as the wearied nurse may not have thought of. Is any one about to set off on a journey 1 I must see that the early meal is spread, or prepare it with my own hands, in order that the servant, who was working late last night, may profit by unbroken rest Did I fail in what was kind or considerate to any of the family yesterday? I will meet her this morning with a cordial welcome, and show, in the most delicate way I can, that I am anxious to atone for the past. Was any one exhausted by the last day's exertion ? I will be an hour before them this morning, and let them see that their labor is so much in advance. Or, if nothing extraordinary oc- curs to claim my attention, I will meet the family with a consciousness that, being the least engaged of any member of it, I am con- sequently the most at liberty to devote myself to the general good of the whole, by cultiva- 10 CHARACTERISTICS OF ting cheerful conversation, adapting myself to the prevailing tone of feeling, and leading those who are least happy, to think and speak of what will make them more so." Who can believe that days, months, and years spent in a continual course of thought and action similar to this, will not produce a powerful effect upon the character, and not only upon the individual who thinks and acts alone, but upon all to whom her influence extends? In short, the customs of English society have so constituted women the guar- dians of the comfort of their homes, that, like the Vestals of old, they cannot allow the lamp they cherish to be extinguished, or to fail for want of oil, without an equal share of degra- dation attaching to their names. In other countries, where the domestic lamp is voluntarily put out, in order to allow the women to resort to the opera, or the public festival, they are not only careless about their home comforts, but necessarily ignorant of the high degree of excellence to which they might be raised. In England there is a kind of science of good household management, which, if it consisted merely in keeping the house respectable in its physical character, might be left to the effectual work- ing out of hired hands ; but, happily for the women of England, there is a philosophy in this science, by which all their highest and best feelings are called into exercise. Not only must the house be neat and clean, but it must be so ordered as to suit the tastes ol all, as far as may be, without annoyance or offence to any. Not only must a constant system of activity be established, but peace must be preserved, or happiness will be de- stroyed. Not only must elegance be called in, to adorn and beautify the whole, but stric' integrity must be maintained by the minutes j calculation as to lawful means, and self, and j self-gratification, must be made the yielding pomt in every disputed case. Not only mus an appearance of outward order and comfort be kept up, but around every domestic seen there must be a strong wall of confidence which no internal suspicion can undermine no external enemy break through. Good household management conducted n this plan, is indeed a science well worthy of Mention. It comprises so much, as to invest t with an air of difficulty on the first view ; but no woman can reasonably complain of ncapability, because nature has endowed the sex with perceptions so lively and acute, that where benevolence is the impulse, and prin- ciple the foundation upon which they act, xperience will soon teach them by what means they may best accomplish the end they have in view. They will soon learn by experience, that selfishness produces selfishness, that indo- .ence increases with every hour of indul- gence, that what is left undone because it is difficult to-day, will be doubly difficult to- morrow ; that kindness and compassion, to answer any desirable end, must one be prac- ticable, the other delicate, in its nature ; that affection must be kept alive by ministering to its necessities ; and, above all, that religion must be recommended by consistency of character and conduct It is the strong evidence of truths like these, wrought out of their daily experience, and forced upon them as principles of action which renders the women of England wha they are, or rather were, and which fits them for becoming able instruments in the promo- tion of public and private good ; for all mus allow, that it is to the indefatigable exertions and faithful labors of women of this class that England chiefly owes the support o some of her noblest and most benevolent in stitutions ; while it is to their unobtrusiv and untiring efforts, that the unfortunate am afflicted often are indebted for the only sym pathy the only kind attention that eve reaches their obscure abodes, or diffuse, cheerfulness and comfort through the soli tary chambers of suffering and sickness the only aid that relieves the victims of penur; and want the only consolation that eve visits the desolate and degraded in their wretchedness and despair. I acknowledge there are noble instances in the annals of English history, and perhaps never more than at the present day, o; THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 11 women of the highest rank devoting their time and their property to objects of benevo- lence ; but from the very nature of their early habits and domestic circumstances, they are upon the whole less fitted for prac- tical usefulness, than those who move within a lower sphere. I am also fully sensible of the charities which abound among the poor ; and often have I been led to compare the actual merit of the magnificent bestowments of those who know not one comfort the less, with that of the poor man's offering, and the widow's mite. Still my opinion remains the same, that in the situation of the middle class of women in England, are combined advantages in the formation of character, to which they owe much of their distinction, and their country much of her moral worth. The true English woman, accustomed to bear about with her her energies for daily use, her affections for daily happiness, and her delicate perceptions for hourly aids in the discovery of what is best to do or to leave undone, by this means obtains an insight into human nature, a power of adaptation, and a readiness of application of the right means to the desired end, which not only render her the most valuable friend, but the most de- lightful of fireside companions, because she is thus enabled to point the plainest moral, and adorn the simplest tale, with all those freshly-formed ideas which arise out of actual experience and the contemplation of unvar- nished truth. Among their other characteristic?, the wo- men of England are freely spoken of as ple- beian in their manners, and cold in their affections ; but their unpolished and occa- sionally embarrassed manner, as frequently conceals a delicacy that imparts the most re- fined and elevated sentiment to their familiar acts of duty and regard ; and those who know them best are compelled to acknow- ledge that all the noblest passions, the deep- est feelings, and the highest aspirations of humanity, may be found within the brooding quiet of an English woman's heart There are flowers that burst upon us, and startle the eye with the splendor of their beauty ; we gaze until we are dazzled, and then turn away, remembering nothing but their gorgeous hues. There are others that refresh the traveller by the sweetness they diffuse but he has to search for the source of his delight He finds it imbedded among green leaves ; it may be less lovely than he had anticipated, in its form and color, but oh, how welcome is the memory of that flower, when the evening breeze is again made fra- grant with its perfume ! It is thus that the unpretending virtues of the female character force themselves upon our regard, so that the woman herself is nothing in comparison with her attributes, and we remember less the celebrated belle, than her who made us happy. Nor is it by their frequent and faithful ser- vices alone, that English women are distin- guished. The greater proportion of them were diligent and thoughtful readers. It was not with them a point of importance to de- vour every book that was written as soon as it came out. They were satisfied to single out the best, and, making themselves familiar with every page, conversed with the writer as with a friend, and felt that with minds su- perior, but yet congenial to their own, they could make friends indeed. In this manner their solitude was cheered, their hours of la- bor sweetened, and their conversation ren- dered at once piquant and instructive. This was preserved from the technicalities of common-place by the peculiar nature of their social and mental habits. They were accus- tomed to think for themselves ; and, deprived in some measure of access to what might be esteemed the highest authorities in matters of sentiment and taste, they drew their con- clusions from reasoning, and their reasoning from actual observation. It is true, their sphere of observation was microscopic, com- pared with that of the individual who enjoys the means of travelling from court to court, and of mixing with the polished society of every nation ; but an acute vision directed to immediate objects, whatever they may be, will often discover as much of the wonders of creation, and supply the intelligent mind 12 CHARACTERISTICS OF with food for reflection as valuable, as that which is the result of a widely extended view, where the objects, though more nu- merous, are consequently less distinct Thus the domestic woman, moving in a comparatively limited circle, is not necessari- ly confined to a limited number of ideas, but can often expatiate upon subjects of mere local interest, with a vigor of intellect, a freshness of feeling, and a liveliness of fancy, which create, in the mind of the uninitiated stranger, a perfect longing to be admitted into the home associations from whence are derived such a world of amusement, and so unfailing a relief from the severer duties of life. It is not from the acquisition of ideas, but from the application of them, that conversa- tion derives its greatest charm. Thus an exceedingly well-informed talker may be in- describably tedious ; while one who is com- paratively ignorant, as regards mere facts, having brought to bear, upon every subject contemplated, a lively imagination combined with a sound judgment, and a memory stored, not only with dates and historical events, but with strong and clear impressions of familiar things, may rivet the attention of his hearers, and startle them, for the time, into a distinctness of impression which im- parts a degree of delightful complacency both to his hearers, and to the entertainer himself. In the exercise of this kind of tact, the women of England, when they can be in- duced to cast off their shyness and reserve, are peculiarly excellent, and there is conse- quently an originality in their humor, a firm- ness in their reasoning, and a tone of delicacy in their perceptions, scarcely to be found else- where in the same degree, and combined in the same manner ; nor should it ever be for- gotten, in speaking of their peculiar merits, that the freshness and the charm of their conversation is reserved for their own fire- sides for moments, when the wearied frame is most in need of exhilaration, when the mind is thrown upon its own resources for the restoration of its exhausted powers, and when home associations and home affections are the balm which the wounded spirit needs. But above all other characteristics of the women of England, the strong moral feeling pervading even their most trifling and familiar actions, ought to be mentioned as most con- ducive to the maintenance of that high place which they so justly claim in the society of their native land. The apparent coldness and reserve of English women ought only to be regarded as a means adopted for the pres- ervation of their purity of mind, an evil, if you choose to call it so, but an evil of so mild a nature, in comparison with that which it wards off, that it may with truth be said to " lean to virtue's side." I have said before, that the sphere of a domestic woman's observation is microscopic. She is therefore sensible of defects within that sphere, which, to a more extended vision, would be imperceptible. If she looked abroad for her happiness, she would be less disturb- ed by any falling off at home. If her interest and her energies were diffused through a wider range, she would be less alive to the minuter claims upon her attention. It is pos- sible she may sometimes attach too much importance to the minutiaB of her own domes- tic world, especially when her mind is imper- fectly cultivated and informed : but, on the other hand, there arises, from the same cause, a scrupulous exactness, a studious obser- vance of the means of happiness, a delicacy of perception, a purity of mind, and a digni- fied correctness of manner, for which the women of England are unrivalled by those of any other nation. By a certain class of individuals, their gen- eral conduct may possibly be regarded as too prudish to be strictly in keeping with enlarged and liberal views of human life. These are such as object to find the strict principles of female action carried out towards themselves. But let every man who disputes the right foundation of this system of conduct, imagine in the place of the woman whose retiring shy- ness provokes his contempt, his sister or his friend : and, while he substitutes another be- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 13 ing, similarly constituted, for himself, he will immediately percei\-e that the boundary-line of safety, beyond which no true friend of wo- man ever tempted her to pass, is drawn many degrees within that which he had marked out for his own intercourse with the female sex. Nor is it in the small and separate de- viations from this strict line of propriety, that any great degree of culpability exists. Each individual act may be simple in itself, and almost too insignificant for remark ; it is habit that stamps the character, and custom, that renders common. Who then can guard too scrupulously against the first opening, and almost imperceptible change of manners, by which the whole aspect of domestic life would be altered 1 And who would not rather that English women should be guarded by a wall of scruples, than allowed to degenerate into less worthy and less efficient supporters of their country's moral worth ? Were it only in their intercourse with mix- ed society that English women were distin- guished by this strict regard to the proprieties of life, it might with some justice fall under the ban of prudery ; but, happily for them, it extends to every sphere of action in which they move, discountenancing vice in every form, and investing social duty with that true moral dignity which it ought ever to pos- sess. I am not ignorant that this can only be con- sistently carried out under the influence of personal religion. I must, therefore, be un- derstood to speak with limitations, and as comparing my own countrywomen with those of other nations as acknowledging melan- choly exceptions and not only fervently de- siring that every one professed a religion capable of leading them in a more excellent way, but that all who do profess that religion were studiously careful in these minor points. Still I do believe that the women of England are not surpassed by those of any other coun- try for their clear perception of the right and the wrong of common and familiar things, for their reference to principle in the ordinary affairs of life, and for their united maintenance of that social order, sound integrity, and do- mestic peace, which constitute the foundation of all that is most valuable in the society of our native land. Much as I have said of the influence of the domestic habits of my countrywomen, it is, after all, to the prevalence of religious instruc- tion, and the operation of religious principle upon the heart, that the consistent mainte- nance of their high tone of moral character is to be attributed. Among families in the mid- dle class of society of this country, those who live without regard to religion are exceptions to the general rule ; while the great propor- tion of individuals thus circumstanced are not only accustomed to give their time and atten- tion to religious observances, but, there is every reason to believe, are materially affect- ed in their lives and conduct by the operation of Christian principles upon their own minds. Women are said to be more easily brought under this influence than men ; and we con- sequently see, in places of public worship, and on all occasions in which a religious object is the motive for exertion, a greater proportion of women than of men. The same proportion may possibly be observed in places of amuse- ment, and where objects less desirable claim the attention of the public ; but this ought not to render us insensible to the high privileges of our favored country, where there is so much to interest, to please, and to instruct, in what is connected with the highest and holiest uses to which we can devote the talents com- mitted to our trust. CHAPTER II. IT might form a subject of interesting in- quiry, how far the manifold advantages pos- sessed by England as a country, derive their origin remotely from the cause already descri- bed ; but the immediate object of the present work is to show how intimate is the connection which exists between the women of England, and the moral character maintained by their 1 INFLUENCE OF country in the scale of nations. For a woman o undertake such a task, may at first sight appear like an act of presumption ; yet when t is considered that the appropriate business of men is to direct, and expatiate upon those xpansive and important measures for which their capabilities are more peculiarly adapted, and that to women belongs the minute and particular observance of all those trifles which ill up the sum of human happiness or misery, t may surely be deemed pardonable for a woman to solicit the serious attention of her own sex, while she endeavors to prove that it is the minor morals of domestic life which give the tone to English character, and that over this sphere of duty it is her peculiar prov- ince to preside. Aware that the word preside, used as it is icre, may produce a startling effect upon the ar of man, I must endeavor to bespeak his forbearance, by assuring him, that the highest aim of the writer does not extend beyond the act of warning the women of England back to their domestic duties, in order that they may become better wives, more useful daugh- ters and mothers, who by their examples shall bequeath a rich inheritance to those who fol- low in their steps. On the other hand, I am equally aware that a work such as I am proposing to myself must be liable to the condemnation of all mod- ern young ladies, as a homely, uninteresting book, and wholly unsuited to the present en- tightened times. I must therefore endeavor also to conciliate their good-will, by assuring them, that all which is must lovely, poetical, and interesting, nay, even heroic in women, derives its existence from the source I am now about to open to their view, with all the ability I am able to command : and would it were a hundred-fold, for their Bakes ! The kind of encouragement I would hole out to them is, however, of a nature so wide- ly different from the compliments to which they are too much accustomed, that I fee the difficulty existing in the present day, o stimulating a laudable ambition in the femal< mind, without the aid of public praise o printed records of the actual product of thei meritorious exertions. The sphere of wo- man's happiest and most beneficial influence is a domestic one, but it is not easy to award even to her quiet and unobtrusive virtues hat meed of approbation which they really deserve, without exciting a desire to forsake the homely household duties of the family circle to practise such as are more conspic- uous, and consequently more productive of an immediate harvest of applause. I say this with all kindness, and I desire to say it with all gentleness, to the young, the amiable, and the vain; at the same time that my perception of the temptation to which they are exposed, enchances my value for the principle that is able to withstand it, and increases my admiration of those noble- minded women who are able to carry forward, with exemplary patience and perseverance, the public offices of benevolence, without sacrificing their home duties, and who thus prove to the world, that the perfection of female character is a combination of private and public virtue, of domestic charity, and zeal for the temporal and eternal happiness of the whole human race. No one can be further than the writer ol these pages from wishing to point out as ob- jects of laudable emulation those domestic drudges, who, because of some affinity be- tween culinary operations, and the natural tone and character of their own minds, prefer the kitchen to the drawing-room, of their own free choice, employ their whole lives in the constant bustle of providing for mere animal appetite, and waste their ingenuity in the creation of new wants and wishes, which all their faculties again are taxed to supply This class of individuals have, by a sad mis- take in our nomenclature, been called useful, and hence, in some degree, may arise the unpopular reception which this valuable word is apt to meet with in female society. It does not require much consideration to perceive that these are not the women to give a high moral tone to the national char- acter of England ; yet so entirely do human actions derive their dignity or their meanness from the motives by which they are prompted THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 15 that it is no violation of truth to say, the most servile drudgery may be ennobled by the self-sacrifice, the patience, the cheerful submission to duty, with which it is perform- ed. Thus a high-minded and intellectual woman is never more truly great than when willingly and judiciously performing kind of- fices for the sick ; arid much as may be said, and said justly, in praise of the public virtues of women, the voice of nature is so powerful in every human heart, that, could the ques- tion of superiority on these two points be universally proposed, a response would be heard throughout the world, in favor of wo- man in her private and domestic character. Nor would the higher and more expansive powers of usefulness with which women are endowed, suffer from want of exercise, did they devote themselves assiduously to their domestic duties. I am rather inclined -to think they would receive additional vigor from the healthy tone of their own minds, and the leisure and liberty afforded by the systematic regularity of their household af- fairs. Time would never hang heavily on their hands, but each moment being hus- banded with care, and every agent acting under their influence being properly chosen and instructed, they would find ample op- portunity to go forth on errands of mercy, secure that in their absence the machinery they had set in motion would still continue to work, and to work well. But if, on the other hand, all was confu- sion and neglect at home filial appeals un- answered domestic comforts uncalculated husbands, sons, and brothers referred to ser- vants for all the little offices of social kind- ness, in order that the ladies of the family might hurry away at the appointed time to some committee-room, scientific lecture, or public assembly : however laudable the ob- ject for which they met, there would be suf- ficient cause why their cheeks should be mantled with a blush of burning shame, when they heard the women of England and their virtues spoken of in that high tone of appro- bation and applause, which those who aspire only to be about their Master's business will feel little pleasure in listening to, and which those whose charity has not begun at home, ought never to appropriate to themselves. It is a widely mistaken notion to suppose that the sphere of usefulness recommended here, is a humiliating and degrading one. As if the earth that fosters and nourishes in its lovely bosom the roots of all the plants and trees which ornament the garden of the world, feeding them from her secret storehouse with supplies that never fail, were less important, in the economy of vegetation, than the sun that brings to light their verdure and their flowers, or the genial atmosphere that per- fects their growth, and diffuses their perfume abroad upon the earth. To. carry out the simile still further, it is but just to give the preference to that element which, in the ab- sence of all other favoring circumstances, withholds not its support ; but when the sun is shrouded, and the showers forget to fall, and blighting winds go forth, and the hand of culture is withdrawn, still opens out its hidden fountains, and yields up its resources, to invigorate, to cherish, and sustain. It would be an easy and a grateful task, thus, by metaphor and illustration, to prove the various excellences and amiable peculi- arities of women, did not the utility of the present work demand a more minute and homely detail of that which constitutes her practical and individual duty. It is too much the custom with writers, to speak in these general terms of the loveliness of the female character ; as if woman were some fragrant flower, created only to bloom, and exhale in sweets ; when perhaps these very writers are themselves most strict in requiring that the domestic drudgery of their own house- holds should each day be faithfully filled up. How much more generous, just, and noble would it be to deal fairly by woman in these matters, and to tell her that to be individually, what she is praised for being in general, it is necessary for her to lay aside all her natural caprice, her love of self-indulgence, her vani- ty, her indolence in short, her very self and assuming a new nature, which nothing less than watchfulness and prayer can enable her 16 INFLUENCE OF constantly to maintain, to spend her mental and moral capabilities in devising means for promoting the happiness of others, while her own derives a remote and secondary exist- ence from theirs. If an admiration almost unbounded for the perfection of female character, with a sisterly participation in all the errors and weaknesses to which she is liable, and a profound sympa- thy with all that she is necessarily compelled to feel and suffer, are qualifications for the task I have undertaken, these certainly are points on which I yield to none ; but at the same time that I do my feeble best, I must deeply regret that so few are the voices lifted up in her defence against the dangerous in- fluence of popular applause, and the still more dangerous tendency of modern habits, and modern education. Perhaps it is not to be expected that those who write most powerful- ly, should most clearly perceive the influence of the one, or the tendency of the other ; be- cause the very strength and consistency of their own minds must in some measure exempt them from participation in either. While, therefore, in the art of reasoning, a writer like myself must be painfully sensible of her own deficiency, in sympathy of feeling, she is perhaps the better qualified to address the weakest of her sex. With such, it is a favorite plea, brought for- ward in extenuation of their own uselessness, that they have no influence that they are not leading women that society takes no note of them ; forgetting, while they shelter themselves beneath these indolent excuses, that the very feather on the stream may serve to warn the doubtful mariner of the rap- id and fatal current by which his bark might be hurried to destruction. It is, moreover, from among this class that wives are more frequently chosen ; for there is a peculiarity in men I would fain call it benevolence which inclines them to offer the benefit of their pro- tection to the most helpless and dependant of the female sex ; and therefore it is upon this class that the duty of training up the young most frequently devolves ; not certainly up- on the naturally imbecile, but upon the uncal- culating creatures whose non-exercise of their own mental and moral faculties renders them not only willing to be led through the experi- ence of life, but thankful to be relieved from the responsibility of thinking and acting for themselves. It is an important consideration, that from such women as these, myriads of immortal beings derive that early bias of character, which under Providence decides their fate, not only in this world, but in the world to come. And yet they flutter on, and say they have no influence they do not aspire to be leading women they are in society but as grains of sand on the sea-shore. Would they but pause one moment to ask how will this plea avail them, when as daughters with- out gratitude, friends without good faith, wives without consideration, and mothers without piety, they stand before the bar of judgment, to render an account of the talents committed to their trust ! Have they not parents, to whom they might study to repay the debt of care and kindness accumulated in their childhood ? perhaps to whom they might overpay this debt, by assisting to remove such obstacles as apparently intercept the line of duty, and by endeavoring to alleviate the perplexing cares which too often obscure the path of life 1 Have they not their young friendships, for those sunny hours when the heart expands itself in the genial atmosphere of mutual love, and shrinks not from revealing its very weak- nesses and errors ; so that a faithful hand has but to touch its lenderrhords, and conscience is awakened, and then instruction may be poured in, and medicine may be administered, and the messenger of peace, with healing on his wings, may be invited to come in, and make that heart his home ? Have not they known the secrets of some faithful bosom laid bare before them in a deeper and yet more confi- ding attachment, when, however insignificant they might be to the world in general, they held an influence almost unbounded over one human being, and could pour in, for the bane or the blessing of that bosom, according to the fountain from whence their own was sup- plied, either draughts of bitterness or floods THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 17 of light? Have they not bound themselves by a sacred and enduring bond, to be to one fel- low-traveller along the path of life, a compan- ion on his journey, and, as far as ability might be granted them, a guide and a help in the doubts and the difficulties of his way 7 Under these urgent and serious responsibilities, have they not been appealed to, both in words and in looks, and in the silent language of the heart, for that promised help 7 And how has the appeal been answered ? Above all, have they not, many of them, had the feeble steps of infancy committed to their care the pure unsullied page of childhood presented to them for its first and most durable inscrip- tion 1 and what have they written there 1 It is vain to plead their inability, and say they knew not what to write, and therefore left the tablet untouched, or sent away the vacant page to be filled up by other hands. Time will prove to them they have written, if not by any direct instrumentality, by their exam- ple, their conversation, and the natural influ- ence of mind on mind. Experience will prove to them they have written ; and the tran- script of what they have written, will be treas- ured up, either for or against them, among the awful records of eternity. It is therefore not only false in reasoning, but wrong in principle, for women to assert, as they not unfrequently do with a degree of puerile satisfaction, that they have no influ- ence. An influence fraught either with good or evil, they must have ; and though the one may be above their ambition, and the other beyond their fears, by neglecting to obtain an influence which shall be beneficial to society, they necessarily assume a bad one : just in the same proportion as their selfishness, in- dolence, or vacuity of mind, render them in youth an easy prey to every species of unami- able temper, in middle age the melancholy victims of mental disease, and, long before the curtain of death conceals their follies from the world, a burden and a bane to society at large. A superficial observer might rank with this class many of those exemplary women, who pass to and fro upon the earth with noiseless step, whose names are never heard, and who, even in society, if they attempt to speak, have scarcely the ability to command an attentive audience. Yet among this unpretending class are found striking and noble instances of women, who, apparently feeble and insig- nificant, when called into action by pressing and peculiar circumstances, can accomplish great and glorious purposes, supported and carried forward by that most valuable of all faculties moral power. And just in propor- tion as women cultivate this faculty (under the blessing of Heaven) independently of all personal attractions, and unaccompanied by any high attainments in teaming or art, is their influence over their fellow-creatures, and consequently their power of doing good. It is not to be presumed that women pos- sess more moral power than men ; but happi- ly for them, such are their early impressions, associations, and general position in the world, that their moral feelings are less liable to be impaired by the pecuniary objects which too often constitute the chief end of man, and which, even under the limitations of better principle, necessarily engage a large portion of his thoughts. There are many humble-mind- ed women, not remarkable for any particular intellectual endowments, who yet possess so clear a sense of the right and wrong of individ- al actions, as to be of essential service in aiding the judgments of their husbands, brothers, or sons, in those intricate affairs in which it is sometimes difficult to dissever worldly wis- dom from religious duty. To men belongs the potent (I had almost said the omnipotent') consideration of worldly aggrandizement ; and it is constantly mis- leading their steps, closing their ears against the voice of conscience, and beguiling them with the promise of peace, where peace was never found. Long before the boy has learn- ed to exult in the dignity of the man, his mind has become familiarized to the habit of investing with supreme importance, all considerations relating to the acquisition wealth. He hears on the Sabbath, and on stated occasions, when men meet for that especial purpose, of a God to be worshipped, 18 INFLUENCE OF a Saviour to be trusted in, and a holy law to be observed; but he sees before him, and every day and every hour, a strife, which is nothing less than deadly to the highest im- pulses of the soul, after another God the Mammon of unrighteousness the Moloch of this world ; and believing rather what men do, than what they preach, he learns too soon to mingle with the living mass, and to unite his labors with theirs. To unite ! Alas ! there is no union in the great field of action in which he is engaged ; but envy, and ha- tred, and opposition, to the close of the day, every man's hand against his brother, and each struggling to exalt himself, not merely by trampling upon his fallen foe, but by usurping the place of his weaker brother, who faints by his side, from not having brought an equal portion of strength into the conflict, and who is consequently borne down by numbers, hurried over, and forgotten. This may be an extreme, but it is scarcely an exaggerated picture of the engagements of men of business in the present day. And surely they now need more than ever all the assistance which Providence has kindly pro- vided, to win them away from this warfare, to remind them that they are hastening on towards a world into which none of the treasures they are amassing can be admit- ted; and, next to those holier influences which operate through the medium of reve- lation, or through the mysterious instrumen- tality of Divine love, I have little hesitation in saying, that the society of woman, in her highest moral capacity, is best calculated to effect this purpose. How often has man returned to his home with a mind confused by the many voices, which in the mart, the exchange, or the public assembly, have addressed themselves to his inborn selfishness or his worldly pride ; and while his integrity was shaken, and his reso- lution gave way beneath the pressure of ap- parent necessity, or the insidious pretences of expediency, he has stood corrected before the clear eye of woman, as it looked directly to the naked truth, and detected the lurking evil of the specious act he was about to commit Nay, so potent may have become this secret influence, that he may have borne it about with him like a kind of second conscience, for mental reference, and spiritual counsel, in moments of trial ; and when the snares of the world were around him, and temptations from within and without have bribed over the witness in his own bosom, he has thought of the humble monitress who sat alone, guarding the fireside comforts of his distant home ; and the remembrance of her charac- ter, clothed in moral beauty, has scattered the clouds before his mental vision, and sent him back to that beloved home, a wiser and a better man. The women of England, possessing the grand privilege of being better instructed than those of any other country in the minu- tiie of domestic comfort, have obtained a degree of importance in society far beyond what their unobtrusive virtues would appear to claim. The long-established customs of their country, have placed in their hands the high and holy duty of cherishing and pro- tecting the minor morals of life, from whence springs all that is elevated in purpose, and glorious in action. The sphere of their direct personal influence is central, and consequent- ly small ; but its extreme operations are as widely extended as the range of human feel- ing. They may be less striking in society than some of the women of other countries, and may feel themselves, on brilliant and stirring occasions, as simple, rude, and un- sophisticated in the popular science of ex- citement ; but as far as the noble daring of Britain lias sent forth her adventurous sons, and that is to every point of danger on the habitable globe, they have borne along with them a generosity, a disinterestedness, and a moral courage, derived in no small measure from the female influence of their native country. It is a fact well worthy of our most serious attention, and one which bears immediately upon the subject under consideration, that the present state of our national affairs is such as to indicate that the influence of wo- man in counteracting the growing evils of THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 19 society is about to be more needed than ever. In our imperfect state of being, we seldom attain any great or national good without its accompaniment of evil ; and every improve- ment proposed for the general weal, has, up- on some individual, or some class of individ- uals, an effect which it requires a fresh exer- cise of energy and principle to guard against. Thus the great facilities of communication, not only throughout our own country, but with distant parts of the world, are rousing men of every description to tenfold exertion in the field of competition in which they are engaged ; so that their whole being is becom- ing swallowed up in efforts and calculations relating to their pecuniary success. If to grow tardy or indifferent in the race were only to lose the goal, many would be glad to pause ; but such is the nature of com- merce and trade as at present carried on in this country, that to slacken in exertion, is altogether to fail. I would fain hope and be- lieve of my countrymen, that many of the rational and enlightened would now be wil- ling to reap smaller gains, if by so doing they could enjoy more leisure. But a business only half attended to, soon ceases to be a business at all ; and the man of enlightened understanding, who neglects his, for the sake of hours of leisure, must be content to spend them in the debtor's department of a jail. Thus, it is not with single individuals that the blame can be made to rest. The fault is in the system ; and happy will it be for thousands of immortal souls, when this sys- tem shall correct itself. In the mean time, may it not be said to be the especial duty of women to look around them, and see in what way they can counteract this evil, by calling back the attention of man to those sunnier spots in his existence, by which the growth of his moral feelings have been encouraged, and his heart improved) We cannot believe of the fathers who watched over our childhood, of the husbands who shared our intellectual pursuits, of the brothers who went hand in hand with us in our love of poetry and nature, that they are all gone over to the side of mammon, that there does not lurk in some corner of their hearts a secret longing to return ; yet every morning brings the same hurried and indif- ferent parting, every evening the same jaded, speechless, welcomeless return until we al- most fail to recognise the man, in the ma- chine. English homes have been much boasted of by English people, both at home and abroad. What would a foreigner think of those neat, and sometimes elegant residences, which form a circle of comparative gentility around our cities and our trading towns) What would he think, when told that the fathers of those families have not time to see their chil- dren except on the Sabbath-day 1 and that the mothers, impatient, and anxious to con- sult them about some of their domestic plans, have to wait, perhaps for days, before they can find them for five minutes disengaged, either from actual exertion, or from that sleep which necessarily steals upon them immedi- ately after the over-excitement of the day has permitted them a moment of repose. And these are rational, intellectual, ac- countable, and immortal beings, undergoing a course of discipline by which they are to be fitted for eternal existence ! What wo- man can look on without asking " Is there nothing I can do, to call them back )" Surely there is ; but it never can be done by the cultivation of those faculties which contribute only to selfish gratification. Since her so- ciety is shared for so short a time, she must endeavor to make those moments more rich in blessing ; and since her influence is limited to so small a range of immediate operation, it should be rendered so potent as to mingle with the. whole existence of those she loves. Will an increase of intellectual attainments, or a higher style of accomplishments, effect this purpose) Will the common-place fri- volities of morning calls, or an interminable range of superficial reading, enable them to assist their brothers, their husbands, or their sons in becoming happier and better men ) No : let the aspect of society be what it may, man is a social being, and beneath the 20 MODERN EDUCATION OF hard surface he puts on, to fit him for the wear and tear of every day, he has a heart as true to the kindly affections of our nature, as that of woman as true, though not as suddenly awakened to every passing call. He has therefore need of all her sisterly ser- vices, and, under the pressure of the present times, he needs them more than ever, to fos- ter in his nature, and establish in his charac- ter, that higher tone of feeling without which he can enjoy nothing beyond a kind of ani- mal existence but with which, he may faithfully pursue the necessary avocations of the day, and keep as it were a separate soul for his family, his social duty, and his God. There is another point of consideration by which this necessity for a higher degree of female influence is greatly increased, and it is one which comprises much that is inter- esting to those who aspire to be the support- ers of their country's worth. The British throne being now graced by a female sove- reign, the auspicious promise of whose early years peems to form a new era in the annals of our ration, and to inspire with brighter hopes and firmer confidence the patriot bo- soms of her expectant people ; it is surely not a time fci the female part of the commu- nity to fall sway from the high standard of. moral excellence, to which they have been accustomed to look, in the formation of their domestic habits. Rather let them show forth the benefits arising from their more enlight- ened systems of education, by proving to their youthful sovereign, that whatever plan she may think it right to sanction for the moral advancement of her subjects, and the promotion of their true interests as an intelli- gent and happy people, will be welcomed by every female heart throughout her realm, and faithfully supported in every British home by the female influence prevailing there. It will be the business of the writer through the whole of the succeeding pages of this work, to endeavor to point out, how the wo- men of England may render this important service, not only to the members of their own households, but to the community at large ; and if I fail in arousing them to bring, as with one mind, their united powers to stem the popular torrent now threatening to un- dermine the strong foundation of England's moral worth, it will not be for want of earn- estness in the cause, but because I am not endowed with talent equal to the task. CHAPTER III. MODERN EDUCATION. IN writing on the subject of modern edu- cation, I cannot help entertaining a fear lest some remarks I may in candor feel con- strained to make, should be construed into disrespect towards that truly praiseworthy and laborious portion of the community, em- ployed in conducting this education, and pursuing, with laudable endeavors, what is generally believed to be the best method of training up the young women of the present day. Such, however, is the real state of my own sentiments, that I have long been ac- customed to consider this class of individuals as not only entitled to the highest pecuniary consideration, but equally so to the first place in society, to the gratitude of their fel- low-creatures, and to the respect of mankind in general, who, both as individuals, and as a community, are deeply indebted to them for their indefatigable and often ill-requited services. A woman of cultivated understanding and correct religious principle, when engaged in the responsible task of educating the rising generation, in reality fills one of the most re- sponsible stations to which a human being can aspire ; and nothing can more clearly in- dicate a low state of public morals than the vulgar disrespect and parsimonious remune- ration with which the agents employed in education are sometimes requited. It is with what is taught, not with those who teach, that I am daring enough to find fault It may be that I am taking an unen- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 21 lightened and prejudiced view of the subject ; yet, such is the strong conviction of ray own mind, that I cannot rest without attempting to prove that the present education of the women of England does not fit them for faithfully performing the duties which de- Yolve upon them immediately after their leaving school, and throughout the whole of their after lives, does not convert them from helpless children into such characters as all women must be, in order to be either esteem- ed or admired. Nor are their teachers accountable for this. It is the fashion of the day it is the ambition of the times, that all people should, as far as possible, learn all tilings of which the human intellect takes cognizance ; and what would be the consternation of parents whose daugh- ter should return home to them from school unskilled in modern accomplishments, to whom her governess should say, " It is true, I have been unable to make your child a proficient either in French or Latin, nor is she very apt at the use of the globes, but she has been pre-eminent among my scholars for her freedom from selfishness, and she possesses a nobility of feeling that will never allow her to be the victim of meanness, or the slave of grovelling desires." In order to ascertain -what kind of educa- tion is most effective in making woman what she ought to be, the best method is to inquire into the character, station, and peculiar du- ties of woman throughout the largest portion of her earthly career ; and then ask, for what she is most valued, admired, and beloved. In answer to this, I have little hesitation in saying, for her disinterested kindness. Look at all the heroines whether of romance or reality at all the female characters that are held up to universal admiration at all who have gone down to honored graves, among the tears and the lamentations of their sur- vivors. Have these been the learned, the accomplished women ; the women who could speak many languages, who could solve problems, and elucidate systems of philoso- phy 1 No : or if they have, they have also been women who were dignified with the majesty of moral greatness women who re- garded not themselves, their own feebleness, or their own susceptibility of pain, but who, endued with an almost superhuman energy, could trample under foot every impediment that intervened between them and the accom- plishment of some great object upon which their hopes w r ere fixed, while that object was wholly unconnected with their own personal exaltation or enjoyment, and related only to some beloved object, whose suffering was their sorrow, whose good their gain. Woman, with all her accumulation of mi- nute disquietudes, her weakness, and her sensibility, is but a meager item in the cata- logue of humanity ; but roused by a suffi- cient motive to forget all these, or, rather, continually forgetting them, because she has other and nobler thoughts to occupy her mind, woman is truly and majestically great Never yet, however, was woman great be- cause she had great acquirements ; nor can she ever be great in herself personally, and without instrumentality as an object, not an agent From the beginning to the end of school education, the improvement of self, so far- as relates to intellectual attainments, is made the rule and the motive of all that is done. Rewards are appointed and portioned out for what has been learned, not what has been imparted. To gain, is the universal order of the establishment ; and those who have heaped together the greatest sum of knowledge are usually regarded as the most meritorious. Excellent discourses may be delivered by the preceptress upon the Chris- tian duties of benevolence and disinterested love ; but the whole system is one of pure selfishness, fed by accumulation, and reward- ed by applause. To be at the head of the class, to gain the ticket or the prize, are the points of universal ambition ; and few in- dividuals, among the community of aspi- rants, are taught to look forward with a ra- tional presentiment to that future, when their merit will be to give the place of honor to others, and their happiness to give it to those who are more worthy than themselves. 22 MODERN EDUCATION OF We will not assert that no one entertains such thoughts; for there is a voice in wo- man's heart too strong for education a prin- ciple which the march of intellect is unable to overthrow. Retiring from the emulous throng, we some- times find a little, despised, neglected girl, who has won no prize, obtained no smile of appro- bation from her superiors. She is a dull girl, who learns slowly, and cannot be taught so as to keep up with the rest without incalcu- lable pains. The fact is, she has no great wish to keep up with them : she only wants to be loved and trusted by her teachers ; and oh ! how does she wish, with tears, and al- most with prayers, that they would love and trust her, and give her credit for doing her best Beyond this she is indifferent ; she has no motive but that of pleasing others, for try- ing to be clever; and she is quite satisfied that her friend, the most ambitious girl in the school, should obtain all the honors without her competition. Indeed, she feels as though it scarcely would be delicate, scarcely kind m her, to try so much to advance before her friend ; and she gently falls back, is reproved for her neglect, and, finally, despised. I knew a girl who was one of the best grammarians in a large school, whose friend was peculiarly defective in that particular branch of learning. Once every year the order of the class was reversed, the girl who held the highest place exchanging situations with the lowest, and thus affording all an equal chance of obtaining honors. The usual order of the class was soon restored, except that the good grammarian was always ex- pected by her friend to whisper in her ear a suitable answer to every question proposed, and as this girl necessarily retrograded to the place to which her own ignorance entitled her, her friend felt bound by affection and kindness to relieve her distress every time the alarming question came to her turn. She consequently remained the lowest in the class until the time of her leaving the school, often subjected to the reproofs of her teach- ers, and fully alive to her humiliating situa- tion, but never once turning a deaf ear to her friend, or refusing to assist her in her difficulties. In the schools of the ancients, an act of patient disinterestedness like this, would have met with encouragement and reward ; in the school where it took place, it was well for both parties that it was never known. In making these and similar remarks, I am aware that I may bring upon myself the charge of wishing to exclude from our schools all intellectual attainments what- ever ; for how, it will be asked, can learning be acquired without emulation, and without rewards for the diligent, and punishments for the idle? So far, however, from wishing to cast a shade of disrespect over such attainments, I am decidedly of opinion that no human be- ing can know too much, so long as the sphere of knowledge does not extend to what is positively evil. I am also of opinion that there is scarcely any department of art or science, still less of mental application, which is not calculated to strengthen and improve the mind ; but at the same time I regard the improvement of the heart of so much greater consequence, that if time and opportunity should fail for both, I would strenuously recommend that women should be sent home from school with fewer accomplish- ments, and more of the will and the power to perform the various duties necessarily de- volving upon them. Again, I am reminded of the serious and important fact, that religion alone can im- prove the heart ; and to this statement no one can yield assent with more reverential belief in its truth than myself. I acknow- ledge, also, for I know it to be a highly cred- itable fact, that a large proportion of the mer- itorious individuals who take upon them- selves the arduous task of training up the young, are conscientiously engaged in giving to religious instruction that place which it ought unquestionably to hold in every Chris- tian school. But I would ask, is instruction all that is wanted for instilling into the minds of the rising generation the benign principles of Christian faith and practice ? THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 23 It is not thought enough to instruct the young sculptor in the rules of his art, to charge his memory with the names of those who have excelled in it, and with the princi- ples they have laid down for the guidance of others. No : he must work with his own hand; and long before that hand, and the mind by which it is influenced, have attained maturity, he must have learned to mould the pliant clay, and have thus become familiar with the practice of his art. And shall this universally acknowledged system of instruction, to which we are in- debted for all that is excellent in art and ad- mirable in science, be neglected in the educa- tion of the young Christian alone ? Shall he be taught the bare theory of his religion, and left to work out its practice as he can ? Shall he be instructed in what he is to believe, and not assisted in doing also the will of his heavenly Father ? We all know that it is not easy to practise even the simplest rule of right, when we have not been accustomed to do so : and the longer we are before we begin to regulate our conduct by the precepts of religion, the more difficult it will be to acquire such habits as are calculated to adorn and show forth the purity and excellence of its principles. There is one important difference between the acquisition of knowledge, and the acqui- sition of good habits, which of itself ought to be sufficient to ensure a greater degree of at- tention to the latter. When the little pupil first begins her education, her mind is a total blank, as far as relates to the different branches of study into which she is about to be intro- duced, and there is consequently nothing to oppose. She is not prepossessed in favor of any false system of arithmetic, grammar, or geography, and the ideas presented to her on these subjects are consequently willingly received, and adopted as her own. How different is the moral state of the un- instructed child ! Selfishness coeval with her existence has attained an alarming growth ; and all the other passions and pro- pensities inherent in her nature, taking their natural course, have strengthened with her advance towards maturity, and are ready to assume an aspect too formidable to afford any prospect of their being easily brought into subjection. Yet, notwithstanding this difference, the whole machinery of education is brought to bear upon the intellectual part of her nature, and her moral feelings are left to the training of the play-ground, where personal influ- ence, rather than right feeling, too frequently decides her disputes, and places her either high or low in the ranks of her companions. It is true, she is very seriously and proper- ly corrected when convicted of having done wrong, and an admirable system of morals is promulgated in the school ; but the subject I would complain of is, that no means have yet been adopted for making the practice of this system the object of highest importance in our schools. No adequate means have been adopted for testing the generosity, the high-mindedness, the integrity of the chil- dren who pursue their education at school, until they leave it at the age of sixteen, when their moral faculties, either for good or for evil, must have attained considerable growth. Let us single out from any particular semi- nary a child who has been there from the years of ten to fifteen, and reckon, if it can be reckoned, the pains that have been spent in making that child a proficient in Latin. Have the same pains been spent in making her disinterestedly kind ? And yet what man is there in existence who would not rather his wife should be free from selfish- ness, than be able to read Virgil without the use of a dictionary. There is no reason, however, why both these desirable ends should not be aimed at, and as the child progresses in self-denial, for- bearance, generosity, and disinterested kind- ness, it might be her reward to advance in the acquisition of languages, or of whatever accomplishments it might be thought most desirable for her to attain. If I am told there would not be time for all the discipline requi- site for the practice of morals, I ask in reply, how much do most young ladies learn at school for which they never find any use in 24 MODERN EDUCATION OF after life, and for which it is not probable, from their circumstances, that they ever should. Let the hours spent upon music by those who have no ear upon drawing, by those who might almost be said to have no eye upon languages, by those who never afterwards speak any other than their mother tongue be added together year after year ; and an aggregate of wasted time will present itself! sufficient to alarm those who are sen- sible of its value, and of the awful responsi- bility of using it aright It is impossible that the teachers, or even the parents themselves, should always know the future destiny of the child ; but there is an appropriate sphere for women to move in, from which those of the middle class in Eng- land seldom deviate very widely. This sphere has duties and occupations of its own, from which no woman can shrink with- out culpability and disgrace ; and the ques- tion is, are women prepared for these duties and occupations by what they learn at school ? For my own part, I know not how educa- tion deserves the name, if it does not prepare the individual whom it influences for filling her appointed station in the best possible manner. What, for instance, should we think of a school for sailors, in which no- thing was taught but the fine arts ; or for musicians, in which the students were only instructed in the theory of sound ? With regard to the women of England, I have already ventured to assert that the quality for which, above all others, they are esteemed and valued, is their disinterested kindness. A selfish woman may not im- properly be regarded as a monster, especially in that sphere of life where there is a con- stant demand made upon her services. But how are women taught at school to forget themselves, and to cultivate that high tone of generous feeling to which the world is so much indebted for the hope and the joy, the peace and the consolation, which the influ- ence and companionship of woman is able to diffuse throughout its very deserts, visiting, as with blessed sunshine, the abodes of the wretched and the poor, and sharing cheer- fully the lot of the afflicted? In what school, or under what system of modern education, can it be said that the chief aim of the teachers, the object to which their laborious exertions are mainly directed, is to correct the evil of selfishness in the hearts of their pupils ? Improved methods of charging and surcharging the memory are eagerly sought out, and pursued, at any cost of time and patience, if not of health itself ; but who ever thinks of establishing a selfish class among the girls of her establish- ment, or of awarding the honors and distinc- tions of the school to such as have exhibited the most meritorious instances of self-denial for the benefit of others 1 It may be objected to this plan, that virtue ought to be its own reward, and that honors and rewards adjudged to the most meritorious in a moral point of view, would be likely to induce a degree of self-complacency wholly inconsistent with Christian meekness. I am aware that, in our imperfect state, no plan can be laid down for the promotion of good, with which evil will not be liable to mix. All I contend for is, that the same system of dis- cipline, with the same end in view, should be begun and carried on at school, as that to which the scholar will necessarily be subject- ed in after life ; and that throughout the training of her early years, the same stand- ard of merit should be adopted, as she will find herself compelled to look up to, when released from that training, and sent forth into the world to think and act for herself. At school it has been the business of every day to raise herself above her companions by attainments greater than theirs ; in after life it will be the business of every day to give place to others, to think of their happiness, and to make sacrifices of her own to pro- mote it If such acts of self-denial, when practised at school, should endanger the equanimity of her mind by the approbation they obtain, what will they do in the world she is about to enter, where the unanimous opinion of mankind, both in this and in past ages, is in their favor, and where she must THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 25 perpetually hear woman spoken of in terms of the highest commendation, not for her learning, but for her disinterested kindness, her earnest zeal in promoting the happiness of her fellow-creatures, and the patience and forbearance with which she studies to miti- gate affliction and relieve distress 7 Would it not be safer, then, to begin at a very early age to make the practice of these virtues the chief object of their lives, guard- ing at the same time against any self-com- placency that might attach to the perform- ance of them, by keeping always before their view higher and nobler instances of virtue in others ; and especially by a strict and con- stant reference to the utter worthlessness of all human merit, in comparison with the mercy and forgiveness that must ever impose a debt of gratitude upon our own souls 1 Taking into consideration the various ex- cellences and peculiarities of woman, I am inclined to think that the sphere which of all others admits of the highest development of her character, is the chamber of sickness ; and how frequently and mournfully familiar are the scenes in which she is thus called to act and feel, let the private history of every fam- ily declare. There is but a very small proportion of the daughters of farmers, manufacturers, and trades-people, in England, who are ever call- ed upon for their Latin, their Italian, or even for their French ; but all women in this sphere of life are liable to be called upon to visit and care for the sick ; and if in the hour of weakness and of suffering, they prove to be unacquainted with any probable means of alleviation, and wholly ignorant of the most judicious and suitable mode of offering relief and consolation, they are indeed deficient in one of the highest attainments in the way of usefulness, to which a woman can aspire. To obviate the serious difficulties which many women experience from this cause, I woxild propose, as a substitute for some useless accomplishments, that English girls should be made acquainted with the most striking phenomena of some of the familiar, and frequently recurring maladies to which the human frame is liable, with the most ap- proved methods of treatment And by culti- vating this knowledge so far as relates to general principles, I have little doubt but it might be made an interesting and highly use- ful branch of education. I am far from wishing them to interfere with the province of the physician. The more they know, the less likely they will be to do this. The office of a judicious nurse is all I would recommend them to aspire to ; and to the same department of instruction should be added the whole science of that delicate and difficult cookery which forms so important a part of the attendant's duty. Nor let these observations call forth a smile upon the rosy lips that are yet unparched by fever, untainted by consumption. Fair read- er, there have been those who would have given at the moment almost half their world- ly wealth, to have been able to provide a pa- latable morsel for a beloved sufferer ; who have met the inquiring eye, that asked for it knew not what, and that expressed by its anxious look an almost childish longing for what they were unable to supply, not because the means were denied, but simply because they were too ignorant of the nature and necessities of illness to form any practical idea of what would be most suitable and most approved. Perhaps, in their well-meant offi- ciousness, they mentioned the only thing they were acquainted with, and that was just the most repulsive. What then have they done ? Allowed the faint and feeble sufferer to go pining on, wishing it had been her lot to fall under the care of any other nurse. How invaluable at such a time is the al- most endless catalogue of good and suitable preparations with which the really clever wo- man is supplied, any one of which she is able to prepare with her own hands ; choos- ing, with the skill of the doctor, what is best adapted for the occasion, and converting diet into medicine of the most agreeable descrip- tion, which she brings silently into the sick- room without previous mention, and thus exhilarates the spirits of the patient by an agreeable surprise ! Jti MODERN EDUCATION OF It is customary with young ladies of the present day to think that nurses and hired attendants ought to do these things ; and well and faithfully they sometimes do them, to the shame of those connected by nearer ties. But are they ignorant that a hired hand can never impart such sweetness to a cordial as a hand beloved ; and that the most deli- cate and most effectual means of proving the strength of their affection, is to choose to do, what might by possibility have been ac- complished by another 1 When we meet in society with that speech- less, inanimate, ignorant, and use-less being called " a young lady just come from school," it is thought a sufficient apology for all her deficiencies, that she has, poor thing ! but just come home from school Thus imply- ing that nothing in the way of domestic use- fulness, social intercourse, or adaptation to circumstances, can be expected from her until she has had time to learn it If, during the four or five years spent at school, she had been establishing herself upon the foundation of her future character, and learning to practise what would afterwards be the business of her life, she would, when her education was considered as complete, be in the highest possible state of perfection which her nature, at that season of life, would admit of. This is what she ought to be. I need not advert to what she is. The case is too pitiful to justify any further description. The popular and familiar remark, "Poor thing ! she has just come home from school ; what can you expect ?" is the best commen- tary I can offer. There is another point of difference be- tween the training of the intellect, and that of the moral feelings, of more serious import- ance than any we have yet considered. We all know that the occupation of teach- ing, as it relates to the common branches oi instruction, is one of such Herculean labor, that few persons are found equal to it for any protracted length of time; and even with such, it is necessary that they should bend their minds to it with a determined effort, and make each day a renewal of that effort, not to be baffled by difficulties, nor defeated by want of success. We all know, too, what it is to the learned to be dragged on day by day through the dull routine of exercises in which she feels no particular interest, except what arises from getting in advance of her fellows, obtaining a prize, or suffering a pu-nishment We all can remember the atmosphere of the school-room, so uncongenial to the fresh and buoyant spirits of youth the clatter of slates, the dull point of the pencil, and the white cloud where the wrong figure, the fig- ure that would prove the incorrectness of the whole, had so often been rubbed out To say nothing of the morning lessons, before the dust from the desks and the floor had been put in motion, we all can remember the af- ternoon sensations with which we took our places, perhaps between companions the most unloved by us of any in the school ; and how, while the summer's sun was shining in through the high windows, we pored with aching head over some dry dull words, that would not transmit themselves to the tablet of our memories, though repeated with inde- fatigable industry, repeated until they seemed to have no identity, no distinctness, but were mingled with the universal hum and buzz of the close, heated room ; where the heart, if it did not forget itself to stone, at least for- got itself to sleep, and lost all power of feel- ing any thing but weariness, and occasional pining for relief. Class after class were then called up from this hot-bed of intellect The tones of the teacher's voice, though not al- ways the most musical, might easily have been pricked down in notes, they were so uniform in their cadences of interrogation, rejection, and reproof. These, blending with the slow, dull answers of the scholars, and occasionally the quick guess of one ambitious to attain the highest place, all mingled with the general monotony, and increased the general stupor that weighed down every eye, and deadened every pulse. There are, unquestionably, quick children, who may easily be made fond of learning, if judiciously treated ; and it no doubt happens to all, that there are portions of their daily THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 27 duty not absolutely disagreeable ; but that weariness is the prevalent sensation both with the teachers and the taught, is a fact that few will attempt to deny ; nor is it a libel upon individuals thus engaged, or upon human nature in general, that it should be so. We are so constituted that we cannot spend all our time in the exercise of our intellect, with- out absolute pain, especially while young; and when, in after life, we rise with exhaust- ed patience from three hours of writing or reading, we cannot look back with wonder that at school we suffered severely from the labor of six. It is not my province to describe how much the bodily constitution is impaired by this in- cessant application to study. Philanthropical means are devised for relieving the young student as much as possible, by varying the subjects of attention, and allowing short in- tervals of bodily exercise : but still the high- pressure system goes on ; and, with all their attainments in the way of learning, few of the young ladies who return home after a highly finished education, are possessed of health and energy sufficient to make use of their at- tainments, even if they occupied a field more suited to their display. I know not how it may affect others, but the number of languid, listless, and inert young ladies, who now recline upon our sofas, mur- muring and repining at every claim upon their personal exertions, is to me a truly melancholy spectacle, and one which demands the atten- tion of a benevolent and enlightened public, even more, perhaps, than some of those great national schemes in which the people and the government are alike interested. It is but rarely now that we meet with a really healthy woman : and, highly as intellectual attain- ments may be prized, I think all will allow that no qualifications can be of much value without the power of bringing them into use. The difference I would point out, between the exercise of the intellect and that of the moral feelings is this. It has so pleased the all-wise Disposer of our lives, that the duties he has laid down for the right government of the human family, have in their very nature something that expands and invigorates the soul ; so that instead of being weary of well- doing, the character becomes strengthened, the energies enlivened, and the whole sphere of capability enlarged. Who has not felt, after a long conflict be- tween duty and inclination, when at last the determination has been formed and duty has been submitted to, not grudgingly, but from very love to the Father of mercies, who alone can judge what will eventually promote the good of his weak, erring, and short-sighted creatures from reverence for his holy laws, and from gratitude to the Saviour of man- kind ; who has not felt a sudden impulse of thanksgiving and delight as they were en- abled to make this decision, a springing up, as it were, of the soul from the low cares and entanglements of this world, to a higher and purer state of existence, where the motives and feelings under which the choice has been made, will be appreciated and approved, but where every inducement that could have been brought forward to vindicate a different choice, would have been rejected at the bar of eternal justice 1 It is not the applause of man that can reach the heart under such circumstances. No hu- man eye is wished for, to look in upon our self-denial, or to witness the sacrifice we make. The good we have attempted to do may even fail in its effect We know that the result is not with us, but with Him who seeth in se- cret, and who has left us in possession of this encouraging assurance, Inasmuch as ye do it unto one of these, ye do it unto me. Was the human mind ever enfeebled, or the human frame exhausted, by feelings of kindness 1 No ! The hour of true refresh- ment and invigoration, is that in which we do our duty, whatever It may be, cheerfully and humbly, as in the sight of God ; not pluming ourselves upon our own merit, or anticipating great results, but with a child-like dependence upon his promises, and devout aspirations to be ever employed in working out his holy will. In the pursuit of intellectual attainments, we cannot encourage ourselves throughout MODERN EDUCATION OF the day, nor revive our wearied energies at night, by saying, "It is for the love of my heavenly Father that I do this." But, as a very little child may be taught, for the love of a lost parent, to avoid what that parent would have disapproved ; so the young may be cheered and led onward in the path of duty by the same principle, connecting every action of their lives in which good and evil may be blended, with the condemnation or approval of their Father who is in heaven. There is no principle in our nature which at the same time softens and ennobles, sub- dues and exalts, so much as the principle of gratitude ; and it ought ever to be remember- ed, in numbering our blessings, that gratitude has been made the foundation of Christian morality. The ancient philosophers had their system of morals, and a beautiful one it was. But it had this defect it had no sure foun- dation ; sometimes shifting from expediency to the rights of man, and thus having no fixed and determinate character. The happier sys- tem under which we are privileged to live, has all the advantages acknowledged by the philosophers of old, with this great and mer- ciful addition, that it is peculiarly calculated to wind itself in with our affections, by being founded upon gratitude, and thus to excite, in connection with the practice of all it enjoins, those emotions of mind which are most con- ducive to our happiness. Let us imagine a little community of young women, among whom, to do an act of disin- terested kindness should be an object of the highest ambition, and where to do any act of pure selfishness, tending, however remotely, to the injury of another, should be regarded as the deepest disgrace ; where they should be accustomed to consider their time not as their own, but lent them solely for the pur- pose of benefiting their fellow-creatures ; and where those who were known to exercise the greatest charity and forbearance, should be looked upon as the most exalted individuals in the whole community. Would these girls be weary ? Would they be discontented, list- less, and inanimate 1 The experiment re- mains to be tried. It is a frequent and popular remark, that girls are less trouble to manage in families than boys ; and so unquestionably they are. But when their parents go on to say that girls awaken less anxiety, are safer and more easily brought up, I am disposed to think such pa- rents look with too superficial a view to the conduct of their children before the world, rather than the state of their hearts before God. It is true that girls have little temptation, generally speaking, to vice. They are so hemmed in and guarded by the rules of so- ciety, that they must be destitute almost of the common feelings of human nature, to be willing, for any consideration, to sacrifice their good name. But do such parents ever ask, how much of evil may be cherished and indulged in, and the good name retained ? I am aware that among the generality of wo- men there is more religious/eeftngthan among men, more observance of the ordinances of religion, more reading of the scriptures, and more attention to the means of religious in- formation. But let not the woman who sits in peace, and unassailed by temptation, in the retirement of her own parlor, look down with self-complacency and contempt upon the open transgressions of her erring brother. Rather let her weigh in the scale his strong passions, and strong inducements to evil, and, it may be, strong compunctions too, against her own little envyings, bickerings, secret spite, and soul-cherished idolatry of self ; and then ask of her conscience which is the furthest in ad- vance towards the kingdom of heaven. It is true, she has uttered no profane ex- pression, but she has set afloat upon a winged whisper the transgression of her neighbor. She has polluted her lips with no intoxicating draught, but she has drunk of the Circean cup of flattery, and acted from vanity and self-love, when she was professing to act from higher motives. She has run into no excesses, but the excess of display ; and she has injured no one by her bad example, ex- cept in the practice of petty faults. In short, she has not sinned beyond her own tempta- tions. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 29 One of the most striking features in the character of the young ladies of the present day, is the absence of contentment. They are lively when excited, but no sooner does the excitement cease, than they fall back into their habitual listlessness, under which they so often complain of their fate, and speak of themselves as unfortunate and afflicted, that one would suppose them to be the victims of adversity, did not a more intimate acquaint- ance with their actual circumstances, convince us that they were surrounded by every thing conducive to rational comfort. For the sake of the poetry of the matter, one would scarcely deny to every young lady her little canker-worm to nurse in her bosom, since all must have their pets. But when they add selfishness to melancholy, and trouble their friends with their idle and fruitless com- plaints, the case becomes too serious for a jest. Indeed, I am not sure that the professing Christian, who rises every morning with a cherished distaste for the duties of the day, who turns away when they present them- selves, under a belief that they are more diffi- cult or more disgusting than the duties of other people, who regards her own allotment in the world as peculiarly hard, and never pours forth her soul in devout thanksgiving for the blessings she enjoys, is not in reality as culpable in the sight of God, and living as much at variance with the spirit of true re- ligion, as the individual who spends the same portion of time in the practice of more open and palpable sin. It is an undeniable improvement in modern education, that religious instruction is becom- ing more general, that pupils are questioned in the knowledge of the Scriptures, instruct- ed in the truths of religion, and sent forth into the world prepared to give an answer respecting the general outlines of Christian- ity. So long, however, as the discontent above alluded to remains so prevalent, we must question the sufficiency of this method of instruction ; and it is under a strong conviction, that to teach young people to talk about religion is but a small part of what is necessary to the establishment of their Christian characters, that I have ventured to put forth what may be regarded as crude remarks upon this important subject. I still cling fondly to the hope, that, ere long, some system of female instruction will be discovered, by which the young women of England may be sent home from school pre- pared for the stations appointed them by Providence to fill in after life, and prepared to fill them well. Then indeed may this fa- vored country boast of her privileges, when her young women return to their homes and their parents, habituated to be on the watch for every opportunity of doing good to others ; making it the first and the last in- quiry of every day, " What can I do to make my parents, my brothers, or my sisters, more happy ] I am but a feeble instrument in the hands of Providence, to work out any of his benevolent designs ; but as he will give me strength, I hope to pursue the plan to which I have been accustomed, of seeking my own happiness only in the happiness of others. CHAPTER IV. DRESS AND MANNERS. THAT the extent of woman's influence is not always commensurate with the cultiva- tion of her intellectual powers, is a truth which the experience and observation of every day tend to confirm ; for how often do we find that a lavish expenditure upon the means of acquiring knowledge is productive of no adequate result in the way of lessening the sum of human misery ! When we examine the real state of society, and single out the individuals whose habits, conversation, and character produce the hap- piest effect upon their fellow-creatures, we in- variably find them persons who are morally, rather than intellectually, great ; and conse- quently the profession of genius is, to a wo- man, a birthright of very questionable value. It is a remark, not always charitably made, but unfortunately too true, that the most tal- 30 DRESS AND MANNERS OF ented women are not the most agreeable in their domestic capacity : and frequent and unsparing are the batteries of sarcasm and wit, which consequently open upon our un- fortunate blues ! It should be remembered, however, that the evil is not in the presence of one quality, but in the absence of an- other ; and we ought never to forget the re- deeming excellence of those signal instances, in which the moral worth of the female character is increased and supported by in- tellectual power. If, in order to maintain a beneficial influence in society, superior talent, or even a high degree of learning, were re- quired, solitary and insignificant would be the lot of some of the most social, benevo- lent, and noble-hearted women, who now oc- cupy the very centre of attraction within their respective circles, and claim from all around them a just and appropriate tribute of affec- tion and esteem. It need scarcely be repeated, that although great intellectual attainments are by no means the highest recommendation that a woman can possess, the opposite extreme of igno- rance, or natural imbecility of mind, are ef- fectual barriers to the exercise of any con- siderable degree of influence in society. An ignorant woman who has not the good sense to keep silent, or a weak woman pleased with her own prattle, are scarcely less an- noying than humiliating to those who, from acquaintance or family connection, have the misfortune to be identified with them : yet it is surprising how far a small measure of tal- ent, or of mental cultivation, may be made to extend in the way of giving pleasure, when accompanied with good taste, good sense, and good feeling, especially with that feeling which leads the mind from self and selfish motives, into an habitual regard to the good and happiness of others. The more we reflect upon the subject, the more we must be convinced, that there is a system of discipline required for women, totally distinct from what is called the learn- ing of the schools, and that, unless they can be prepared for their allotment in life by some process calculated to fit them for per- forming its domestic duties, the time bestow- ed upon their education will be found, in af- ter life, to have been wholly inadequate to procure for them either habits of usefulness, or a healthy tone of mind. It would appear from a superficial obser- vation of the views of domestic and social duty about to be presented, that, in the esti- mation of the writer, the great business of a woman's life was to make herself agreeable ; for so minute are some of the points which properly engage her attention, that they scarcely seem to bear upon the great ob- ject of doing good. Yet when we reflect that by giving pleasure in an innocent and unostentatious manner, innumerable chan- nels are opened for administering instruction, assistance, or consolation, we cease to regard as insignificant the smallest of those means by which a woman can render herself an ob- ject either of affection or disgust First, then, and most familiar to common observation, is her personal appearance ; and in this case, vanity, more potent in woman's heart than selfishness, renders it an object of general solicitude to be so adorned as best to meet and gratify the public taste. Without inquiring too minutely into the motive, the custom, as such, must be commended : for, like many of the minor virtues of women, though scarcely taken note of in its immedi- ate presence, it is sorely missed when absent A careless or slatternly woman, for instance, is one of the most repulsive objects in crea- tion ; and such is the force of public opinion in favor of the delicacies of taste and feeling in the female sex, that no power of intellect, or display of learning, can compensate to men, for the want of nicety or neatness in the women with whom they associate in do- mestic life. In vain to them might the wreath or laurel wave in glorious triumph over locks uncombed ; and wo betide the heroine, whose stocking, even of the deepest blue, betrayed a lurking hole ! It is, however, a subject too serious for jest, and ought to be regarded by all women with earnest solicitude, that they may con- stantly maintain in their own persons that THE WOMEN OP ENGLAND. 31 strict attention to good taste and delicacy of feeling, which affords the surest evidence of delicacy of mind ; a quality without which no woman ever was, or ever will be, charm- ing. Let her appear in company with what accomplishments she may, let her charm by her musical talents, attract by her beauty, or enliven by her wit, if there steal from under- neath her graceful drapery, the soiled hem, the tattered frill, or even the coarse garment out of keeping with her external finery, im- agination naturally carries the observer to her dressing-room, her private habits, and even to her inner mind, where it is almost impossible to believe that the same want of order and purity does not prevail. It is a prevalent but most injurious mis- take, to suppose that all women must be splendidly and expensively dressed, to re- commend themselves to general approbation. In order to do this, how many, in the sphere of life to which these remarks apply, are lit- erally destitute of comfort, both in their hearts and in their homes ; for the struggle between parents and children, to raise the means on one hand, and to obtain them either by argu- ment or subterfuge on the other, is but one among the many sources of family discord and individual suffering, which mark out the excess of artificial wants, as the great evil of the present times. A very slight acquaintance with the sen- timents and tone of conversation familiar among men, might convince all whose minds are open to conviction, that their admiration is not to be obtained by the display of any kind of extravagance in dress. There may be occasional instances of the contrary, but the praise most liberally and uniformly be- stowed by men upon the dress of women, is, that it is neat, becoming, or in good taste. The human mind is often influenced by association, while immediate impression is all that it takes cognizance of at the moment Thus a splendidly dressed woman entering the parlor of a farm-house, or a tradesman's drawing-room, bursts upon the sight as an astounding and almost monstrous spectacle and we are scarcely aware that the repulsion we instantaneously experience, arises from a secret conviction of how much the gorgeous 'abric must have cost the wearer, in time, and thought, and money ; especially when we known that the same individual is under he necessity of spending her morning hours n culinary operations, and is, or ought to be, the sharer of her husband's daily toil. There is scarcely any object in art or na- ture, calculated to excite our admiration, which may not, from being ill-placed, excite our ridicule or disgust Each individual article of clothing worn by this woman, may be superb in itself, but there is a want of fit- ness and harmony in the whole, from which we turn away. Perhaps there are no single objects in themselves so beautiful as flowers, and it might seem difficult to find a situation in which they could be otherwise ; yet I have seen and seen with a feeling almost like pity at the conclusion of a feast, fair rose- leaves and sweet jessamine floating amidst such inappropriate elements, that all their beauty was despoiled, and they were fit only to be cast away with the refuse of gross matter in which they were involved. Admiration of a beautiful object, how in- tense soever it may be, cannot impart that high tone of intellectual enjoyment which arises from our admiration of fitness and beauty combined ; and thus the richest silk, and the finest lace, when inappropriately worn, are beautifully manufactured articles, but nothing more. While, therefore, on the one hand, there is a moral degradation in the consciousness of wearing soiled or disreputa- ble garments, or being in any way below the average of personal decency, there is, on the other, a gross violation of good taste, in as- suming for the middle classes of society whose occupations are closely connectec with the means of bodily subsistence, the same description of personal ornament as belongs with more propriety to those who enjoy the luxury of giving orders, without any necessity for further occupation of time and thought. The most frequently recurring perplexities 32 DRESS AND MANNERS OF of woman's life arise from cases which re- ligion does not immediately reach, and in which she is still expected to decide properly and act agreeably, without any other law than that of good taste for her guide. Good taste is therefore most essential to the regula- tion of her dress and general appearance ; and wherever any striking violation of this principle appears, the beholder is immediate- ly impressed with the idea that a very im- portant rule of her life and conduct is want- ing. It is not all who possess this guide within themselves ; but an attentive observa- tion of human life and character, especially a due regard to the beauty of fitness, would enable all to avoid giving offence in this par- ticular way. The regard to fitness here recommended, is a duty of much more serious importance than would at first sight appear, since it in- volves a consideration which cannot too often be presented to the mind, of what, and who we are ? what is the station we are appoint- ed to fill, and what the objects for which we are living 1 Behold yon gorgeous fabric in the distance, with its rainbow hues, and gems, and shining drapery, "And flowers the fairest, that might feast the bee." A coronet of beauty crowns the whole, and feathery ornaments, on frail silvery threads, glitter and wave, and tremble at every mov- ing breath. Surely the countenance of Flora blooms below, and Zephyrus suspends his gentle wings at her approach. The spectacle advances. It is not health, nor youth, nor beauty that we see ; but poor, decrepit, help- less, miserable old age. We gaze, and a shudder comes over us, for Death is grinning in the background, and we hear his voice triumphantly exclaiming, "This is mine !" Look at that moving garden, and those waving plumes, as they pass along the aisle of the church or the chapel. They form the adornment of a professedly Christian woman, the mother of a family ; and this is the day appointed for partaking of that ordinance to which Christians are invited to come :n meek- ness and lowliness of spirit, to commemorate the love of their Redeemer, who, though he was rich, for their sakes became poor who humbled himself, and became obedient unto death, to purchase their exemption from the penalty of sin, and the bondage of the world. We would earnestly hope that, in the greater number of such cases as these, the error is in the judgment the mockery thoughtlessly assumed : but would not the habit of self-examination, followed up by seri- ous inquiry respecting our real and individ- ual position in society, as moral agents, and immortal beings, be a likely means of avert- ing the ridicule that age is ill prepared to bear ; and, what is of infinitely more conse- quence, of preventing the scandal that reli- gion has too much cause to charge upon her friends ? It frequently happens that women in the middle class of society are not entirely free from provincialisms in their manner of speak- ing, as well as other peculiarities, by which it may easily be discovered that their interests are local, and their means of information of limited extent ; in short, that they are persons who have but little acquaintance with the polite or fashionable world, and yet they may be persons highly estimable and important in their own sphere. Very little either of esteem or importance, however, attaches to their characters, where their ingenuity is taxed to maintain what they believe to be a fashion- able or elegant exterior, and which, in con- nection with their unpolished dialect and homely occupations, renders them but too much like the chimney-sweeper's queen decked out for a May-day exhibition. The invidious question unavoidably occurs to the beholder for what or for whom has such a person mistaken herself? while, had she been dressed in a plain substantial costume, corresponding with her mind and habits, she might have been known at once, and re- spected for what she really was, a rational, independent, and valuable member of society. It is not, by any means, the smallest of the services required by Christian charity, to point out to our fellow-countrywomen how THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 33 they may avoid being ridiculous. Perhaps a higher degree of intellectual dignity would raise us all above the weakness of being moved to laughter by so slight a cause. But such is the constitution of the general order of minds, that they are less entertained by the most pointed witticisms, than by those striking contrasts and discrepancies, which seem to imply that rusticity has mistaken itself for elegance, deformity for beauty, age for youth. I pretend not to defend this pro- pensity to turn so serious a mistake into jest I merely say that such a propensity does exist, and, what is among the anomalies of our nature, that it sometimes exhibits itself most unreservedly in the very individuals who in their turn are furnishing food for merriment to others. The laughing philosopher might have rea- soned thus, " Let them all laugh on, they will cure each other." But the question is does ridicule correct the evil 7 Most assuredly it does not. It does something more, however. It rankles like a poison in the bosom where it falls, and destroys the peace of many an amiable but ill-judging candidate for public admiration. Women, especially, are its vic- tims and its prey ; and well do they learn, under the secret tutelage of envy, jealousy, and pride, how to make this engine of discord play upon each other. When we listen to the familiar conversa- tion of women, especially of those whose minds are tainted by vulgarity, and unen- lightened by the higher principles of religion, we find that a very large portion of their time and attention is bestowed upon the subject of dress not of their own dress merely, but of that of their neighbors ; and looking fur- ther, we find, what is more astonishing, that there exists in connection with the same subject, a degree of rivalry and ambition which call forth many of the evil passions that are ever ready to spring into action, and mar the pleasant pictures of social life. In awakening these, the ridicule already alluded to is a powerful agent ; for, like the most in- jurious of libels, it adheres so nearly to the truth, as to set contradiction at defiance. Thus, there are few persons who would not rather be maligned than ridiculed ; and thus the wounds inflicted by ridicule are the most difficult to heal, and the last to be forgiven. Surely, then, it is worth paying regard to the principles of fitness and consistency, in order to avoid the consequences necessarily resulting from every striking deviation from these rules ; and the women of England pos- sess many advantages in the cultivation of their natural powers of discrimination and reason, for enabling them to ascertain the pre- cise position of this line of conduct, which it is so important to them to observe. They are free from many of the national prejudices entertained by the women of other countries, and they enjoy the inestimable privilege of being taught to look up to a higher standard of morals, for the right guidance of their con- duct It is to them, therefore, that we look for what rational and useful women ought to be, not only in the essentials of Christian character, but in the minor points of social, domestic, and individual duty. Much that has been said on the subject of dress, is equally applicable to that of manners. Fitness and adaptation, are here, as well as in the former instance, the general rule ; for of what value is elegance in a cottage, or the display of animal strength at a European court! In the middle walks of life, an easy man- ner, free from affectation on the one hand, and grossness on the other, is all that is re- quired ; and such are, or ought to be, the oc- cupations of all women of this class, as most happily to induce such habits of activity and free-agency, as would effectually preserve them from the two extremes of coldness and frivolous absurdity. The grand error of the day seems to be, that of calling themselves ladies, when it ought to be their ambition to be women, women who fill a place, and occupy a post members of the commonwealth supporters of the fabric of society, the minor wheels and secret springs of the great machine of human life and action, which cannot move harmoniously, nor with full effect to the ac- 34 DRESS AND MANNERS OF complishment of any great or noble purpose, while clogged with the lovely burdens, and impeded by the still-life attitudes of those useless members of the community, who cast themselves about on every hand, in the vain hope of being valued and admired for doing nothing. Among the changes introduced by modern taste, it is not the least striking, that all the daughters of trades-people, when sent to school, are no longer girls, but young ladies. The linen-draper whose worthy consort oc- cupies her daily post behind the counter, re- ceives her child from Mrs. Montague's estab- lishment a young lady. At the same ele- gant and expensive seminary, music and Italian are taught to Hannah Smith, whose father deals in Yarmouth herrings ; and there is the butcher's daughter, too, perhaps the most lady-like of them all. The manners of these young ladies naturally take their tone and character from the ridiculous assump- tions of modern refinement The butcher's daughter is seized with nausea at the spec- tacle of raw meat Hannah Smith is incapa- ble of existing within the atmosphere of her father's home and the child of the linen- draper elopes with a merchant's clerk, to avoid the dire necessity of assisting in her father's shop. What a catalogue of miseries might be made out, as the consequence of this mis- taken ambition of the women of England to be ladies ! Gentlewomen they may be, and refined women too ; for when did either gen- tleness or true refinement disqualify a woman for her proper duties 1 But that assumption of delicacy which unfits them for the real business of life, is more to be dreaded in its fatal influence upon their happiness, than the most agonizing disease with which they could be afflicted. It is needless to say that women of this morbid, imbecile character have no influence. They are so occupied with the minutiae of their own personal miseries, that they have no time to think of the sin and the sorrow existing in the world around them. What- ever is proposed to them in the way of doing good, is sure to meet with a listless, weary, murmuring denial ; for if the hundred-and- one objections, arising out of other fancied causes, should be obviated, there are their endless and inexhaustible nerves. Alas, alas ! that English women should ever have found themselves out to be possessed of nerves ! Not the most exquisite creation of the poet's fancy was ever supposed to be more suscep- tible of pain than is now the highly-educated young lady, who reclines upon a couch in an apartment slightly separated from that in which her father sells his goods, and but one remove from the sphere of her mother's cu- linary toil. How different from this feeble, discontent- ed, helpless thing, is the woman who shows by her noble bearing that she knows her true position in society; and who knows also, that the virtue and the value attaching to her character must be in exact proportion to the benefit she confers upon her fellow-crea- tures; above all, who feels that the only Being who is capable of knowing what is ultimately best, has seen meet to place her exactly where the powers of her mind and the purposes of her life may be made most conducive to his merciful and wise designs ! Not the meanest habiliments, nor the most homely personal aspect, can conceal the worth and the dignity of such a woman ; and whatever that position with which she has made herself so well acquainted may be, she will find that her influence extends to its remotest circle. It is impossible to say what the manners of such a woman are. In the cottage, in the court, in the daily and hourly performance of social services, they are, and must be, characterized by the same attributes gene- ral adaptation supported by dignity, a high sense of duty predominating over every ten- dency to selfish indulgence, and prompting to the performance of every kind of practical good, a degree of self-respect, without which no talent can be matured, and no purpose rendered firm ; yet, along with this, a far higher degree of respect for others, exhibited in modes of deference, and acts of considera- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 35 tion as various as the different characters whose good or whose happiness are the sub- jects of her care ; and, lastly, that sweet sis- ter of benevolence, charily, without which no woman ever yet could make herself a desira- ble companion or friend. It may be said that these are virtues, not modes of conduct ; but how much of virtue, particularly that of charity, may be implied and understood by what is commonly called I manner ! That which in the present day is considered the highest attainment in this branch of conduct, is a lady-like manner, and it is one that well deserves the attention of all who wish to recommend themselves who wish, as all must do, to ward off insult- ing familiarity, and court respectful consider- ation. There are, however, many impres- sions conveyed to the minds of others by mere manner, far exceeding this in interest and importance. What, for instance, is so consoling to the afflicted as a sympathizing manner 7 The direct expression of sympathy might possibly give pain ; but there is a man- ner, and happy are they who possess it, which conveys a silent invitation to the sor- sowing soul to unburden its griefs, with an assurance that it may do so without fear of treachery or unkindness. There seems to be an instinct in our nature by which this mode of expressing sympathy is rendered intelligible ; and who that has any thing to do with sorrow or suffering, or any wish to alleviate the pressure of either, would not desire that their manner should be so fraught with sympathy as to impart the consolation they may be unable to express in words ? Who, on the other hand, in a world which all the afflicted are disposed to consider cold and unfeeling, has not felt what it was, to meet with that peculiar tone of voice, that long, earnest gaze of the eye, and that watch- fulness of personal comfort, which belong to a degree of interest deeper than can be told, and which convince beyond the power of language, that we are not we cannot be overlooked or forgotten 1 How many an alien has been invited to return by a look, a tone, a gesture, when no power of speech would have conveyed the same impression of a welcome ! How many a prejudice has been overcome how many a dangerous res- olution broken how many a dark design defeated by a conciliating and confiding man- ner 1 ? And may it not also be asked, how many an insult has been repelled by a man- ner fraught with dignity ; how many an in- jury has been returned into the bosom where it originated, by a manner which conveyed all the bitterness of cherished and determined revenge 1 To those who make the human mind their study, the mode of acting is of more import- ance than the action itself; and to women it is especially so, because the sphere in which they actually move is comparatively limited and obscure. It is seldom regarded as con- sistent with that delicacy which forms so great a charm in their nature, that they should act out to their full extent all the deep feelings of which they are capable. Thus there is no other channel for their perpetual overflow, than that of their manners ; and thus a sensitive and ingenuous woman can exhibit much of her own character, and lead others out into the display of much of theirs, simply by the instrumentality of her manners ; and, upon the same principle, that good breed- ing which obtains the highest applause in society, is but an imitation or assumption of every moral excellence, depicted on a minor scale. Good manners are the small-coin of virtue, distributed abroad as an earnest we will not ask how fallacious of the greater and better things that lie beyond. The women of Eng- land are becoming increasingly solicitous about their manners, that they may in all points resemble such as prevail in a higher circle of society, and be, consequently, the best. But would it not be more advantage- ous to them, to bestow the same increase of solicitude upon what constitutes the true foundation of all that is amiable and excel- lent in life and conduct? Would it not be more advantageous to them to remember, that in the sphere of life appointed for them to fill, stronger and more efficient traits of DRESS AND MANNERS OP character are required, than can possibly be classed under the epithet of lady-like 1 Not that coarseness ox vulgarity of manner could ever be tolerated in those delicate intimacies, and intellectual associations, which properly belong to the class of women of whom Eng- land had once a right to boast intimacies and associations, intervening like gleams of sunshine, between their seasons of perplex- ity and care ; but the manners I would earn- estly recommend to my countrywomen, are of a character calculated to convey an idea of much more than refinement; they are man- ners to which a high degree of moral influence belong?, inasmuch as they inspire confidence, command esteem, and contribute to the gene- ral sum of human happiness. Adaptation is the leading feature in this class of manners adaptation not only to the circumstances of the person who acts and speaks, but also to the circumstances of those upon whom such speech or action operates. A light, careless, sportive manner is some- times thought exceedingly charming; and when it emanates from youth and innocence, can scarcely fail to please ; but when such a manner is affected by a woman of ponderous personal weight, of naturally grave coun- tenance, and responsible station in society, none can avoid being struck with the obvious anomaly, and few can avoid being moved to laughter or contempt In English society it frequently happens that persons of humble parentage, and homely station, in early life, are raised, by the acqui- sition of wealth, to the enjoyment of luxu- rious indulgence. How absurd in such cases, is that assumption of delicacy and of aristo- cratic dignity which we too often see, and which is sure to give rise to every variety of uncharitable remark upon what they and their families have been ! Self-importance, or rather a prevailing consciousness of Belt is the most universal hindrance to the attainment of agreeable manners. A woman of delicate feelings and cultivated mind, who goes into company de- termined to be interested, rather than to in- terest, can scarcely fail to please. We are assured, however, that in this respect there is something very defective in the present state of society. All desire to make an im- pression, none to be impressed ; and thus the social intercourse of every day is ren- dered wearisome, if not disgusting, by the constant struggle of each contending party to assume the same relative position. An instance relating immediately to an an- imal of inferior grade in the creation to man, but bearing some affinity to the case in point, is told by a traveller, whose party having shot several old monkeys, took home their young ones to the camp where he was sta- tioned. He amused himself in the evening by watching these little animals, which had been so accustomed to be caressed and car- ried about by their parents, that they ex- pected the same services from each other, and by their persevering efforts to obtain as- sistance from those who in an equal degree required it from them, formed themselves into a tumultuous heap, arid nearly worried each other to death. It might be invidious to compare the tu- mult of feeling, the weariness, and the fatality to happiness experienced by these animals, to that which is produced by the general de- sire to make an impression, in modern so- ciety ; but none can be blind to the fact, that a determination to be pleased in company, is the surest means of giving pleasure, as well as of receiving it A young lady who has not had an oppor- tunity of conversing, of playing, or of show- ing off in any other way, is almost sure to return from an evening party complaining of its dulness, and discontented with hersellj as well as with every one besides. Ask her if such and such agreeable and intelligent per- sons were not present ; and she answers, " Yes." Ask her if they did not converse, and converse pleasantly ; and still she an- swers, "Yes." What then? The fact is, she has herself made no impression, charmed nobody, and therefore, as a necessary conse- quence, she is not charmed. How much more happiness does that wo- man experience, who, when in company, di- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 37 rects her attention to her nearest neighbor ; and, beholding a cheerful countenance, or hearing a pleasant voice, is encouraged to proceed in cultivating an acquaintance, which may ultimately ripen into friendship, may teach her some useful lesson, or raise her estimate of her fellow-creatures. Even where no such agreeable results are experienced, where the party attempted proves wholly impracticable, there is still a satisfaction in having made the trial, far beyond what can be experienced by any defeated attempt to be agreeable. Indeed the disappointment of having failed to make a pleasing impression merely for the purpose of gratifying our own vanity, without reference to the happiness of others, is adapted in an especial man- ner to sour the temper, and depress the mind ; because we feel along with the disap- pointment, a mortifying consciousness that our ambition has been of an undignified and selfish kind ; while, if our endeavor has been to contribute to the general sum of so- cial enjoyment, by encouraging the diffident, cultivating the acquaintance of the amiable, and stimulating latent talent, we cannot feel depressed by such a failure, nor mortified at our want of success. The great question with regard to modern education is, which of these two classes of feeling does it instil into the mind does it inspire the young women of the present day with an amiable desire to make everybody happy around them 1 or does it teach them only to sing, and play, and speak in foreign languages, and consequently leave them to be the prey of their own disappointed feel- ings, whenever they find it impossible to make any of these qualifications tell upon society. CHAPTER V. COJTVERSATION OF THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. IT may not, perhaps, be asking too much of the reader, to request that gentle person- age to bear in mind, that in speaking both of the characteristics and the influence of a cer- tain class of females, strict reference has been maintained, throughout the four pre- ceding chapters, to such as may with justice be denominated true English women. With puerile exotics, bending from their own fee- bleness, and wandering, like weeds, about the British garden to the hindrance of the growth of all useful plants, this work has little to do, except to point out how they might have been cultivated to better purpose. I have said of English women, that they are the best fireside companions; but I am afraid that my remark must apply to a very small portion of the community at large. The number of those who are wholly desti- tute of the highest charm belonging to social companionship, is lamentably great : and these pages would never have been obtruded upon the notice of the public, if there were not strong symptoms of the number becom- ing greater still. Women have the choice of many means of bringing their principles into exercise, and of obtaining influence, both in their own do- mestic sphere, and in society at large. Among the most important of these is conversation ; an engine so powerful upon the minds and characters of mankind in general, that beauty fades before it, and wealth in comparison is but as leaden coin. If match-making were indeed the great object of human life, I should scarcely dare to make this assertion, since few men choose women for their con- versation, where wealth or beauty are to be had. I must, however, think more nobly of the female sex, and believe them more so- licitous to maintain affection after the match is made, than simply to be led to the altar, as wives whose influence will that day be laid aside with their wreaths of white roses, and laid aside forever. If beauty or wealth have been the bait in this connection, the bride may gather up her wreath of roses, and place them again upon her polished brow ; nay, she may bestow the treasures of her wealth without reserve, and permit the husband of her choice to CONVERSATION OF " spoil bar goodly land* to gild hu waste ;" she may do what she will dress, bloom, or descend from affluence to poverty ; but if she has no intellectual hold upon her hus- band's heart, she must inevitably become that most helpless and pitiable of earthly ob- jectsa slighted wife. Conversation, understood in its proper character, as distinct from mere talk, might rescue her from this. Not conversation up- on books, if her husband happens to be a fox-hunter ; nor upon fox-hunting, if he is a book-worm ; but exactly that kind of conver- .tion which is best adapted to his tastes and habits, yet at the same time capable of lead- ing him a little out of both into a wider field of observation, and subjects he may never have derived amusement from before, simply from the fact of their never having been pre- sented to his notice. How pleasantly the evening hours may be made to pass, when a woman who really can converse, will thus beguile the time ! But, on the other hand, how wretched is the portion of that man who dreads the dulness of his own fireside who sees the clog of his exist- ence ever seated there the same, in the deadening influence she has upon his spirit?, to-day, as yesterday, to-morrow, and the next day, and the next ! Welcome, thrice wel- come, is the often-invited visiter, who breaks the dismal dual of this scene. Married women are often spoken of in high terms of commendation for their per- sonal services, their handiwork, and their do- mestic management ; but I am inclined to think that a married woman, possessing all these, and even beauty too, yet wanting con- versation, might become " weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable," in the estimation of her husband ; and, finally, might drive him from his home by the leaden weight of her uncom- panionable society. I know not whether other minds have felt (he same as mine under the pressure of some personal presence without fellowship of feel- ing. Innocent and harmless the individual may be who thus inflicts the grievance? yet there is an irksomeness in their mere bodily presence almost intolerable to be borne ; and in proportion to the estimate we form of real society, and companionship, and sympathy of feeling, is the dread we entertain of asso- ciation with mere animal life in its human form, while nothing of this fellowship of feel- ing is experienced. There cannot, however, be a greater mis- take in the science of being agreeable, than to suppose that conversation must be made a business of. Oh ! the misery of being pit- ted against a professional converser! one who looks from side to side until a vacant ear is found, and commences a battery of declamation if you will not answer, and of argument if you will. Indeed, the immense variety of annoyances deducible from ill- managed conversation, are a sufficient proof of its importance in society ; and any one disposed to dispute this fact, need only recall the many familiar instances of disappoint- ment and chagrin which all who mix in any manner with what is called the world, must have experienced, from mistaken views of what is agreeable in conversation. It would be vain to attempt an enumera- tion of the different aspects under which this peculiar kind of annoyance presents itself. A few heads will be sufficient, under which to range the different classes of injudicious talkers. First, then, we naturally think of those who have obtained the conventional appellation of bores, or, to describe them more politely, the class of talkers whose over-solicitude is proportioned to their diffi- culty in obtaining patient hearers. These, again, may be subdivided into endless varie- ties, of which a few specimens will suffice. Yet among all these, even the most inveter- ate, may be found worthy individuals, whose qualifications for imparting both instruction and amusement are by no means contempti- ble. Entitled to distinction in the art of annoy- ance are the hobby-riders those who not only ride a favorite hobby themselves, but expect every one they meet with to mount and ride the same. It matters not whether their ruling subject be painting or politics, THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 39 except that minds devoted to the fine arts have generally about them some delicacy as to the reception of their favorites, and are too shrinkingly alive to the slights it may re- ceive, to risk its introduction -without some indication of a welcome. Still there are ex- ceptions even to this rule, and nothing can be more wearisome to the uninitiated, or more unintelligible to the unpractised ear, than the jargon poured forth by an amateur painter without regard to the tastes or the understandings of those around him. Perhaps his fellow-traveller is seated on some gentle eminence, drinking in the deep quiet of a summer's evening, not merely from sight, but sound, and blending all with treasured memories of the past, in which no stranger could intermeddle, when the painter bursts upon him with his technicalities, and the illusion is gone. He raves about the breadth of the coloring. His companion sees the long tall shadows of the trees reflected on the sloping green, with the golden sunset gleaming in between the stems, and through the interstices of the foliage, and he knows not where the poetry or even the truth of this wonderful property of breadth can be. The painter descants upon the bringing out of the distant cottage from the wood. His companion is of opinion it would be better to let it remain where it is half hid in the re- tirement of the forest, and sending up, as it seems, from the very bosom of the silent shade, its wreath of curling smoke, to indi- cate the social scene beneath its rustic roof, prepared for by the lighting of the wood- man's fire. But the painter is not satisfied. He calls upon his friend to observe the grouping of the whole. He must have the outline broken. The thing is done. His sketch is exhibited in triumph, and he raves on with accelerated delight ; for he has cleft the hills in twain, and placed a group of rob- bers on the broken ground. Alas ! how should his companion believe or understand ! His thoughts are expatiating upon that scene, because its sloping hills, and cultivated fields, and gardens and orchards and village church- yard, are like the spot where he was born, and where his father died ; and he sees no mountain gorge, nor bandit chief, nor hears the rush of torrents on the breeze ; but his eye dwells again upon the apple-tree in its spring bloom, and the lambs upon the lea, and his ear is open to the cooing of the wood- pigeon on the chestnut boughs, and the sound of voices than all other sounds more sweet the voices that spoke kindly of his child- hood. It might be supposed that, if under any cir- cumstances the society of a painter could be always welcome, it would be among the vari- ed scenes of a picturesque tour. But even here the mind has pictures of its own, and he who is perpetually telling you what to see, might as well force upon you at every view, the use of his camera lucida, and neither al- low you to gaze upon nature as you wish to behold it, nor as it really is. Women are, perhaps, less addicted than men to annoy others with their pet subjects ; because they have less opportunity of follow- ing out any particular branch of art or study, to the exclusion of others ; and politics, that most prevalent and unceasing absorbent of conversation, is seldom a favorite theme with them. They have, however, their houses and their servants, and, what is infinitely worse they have themselves. Perhaps accustomed to a little private ad- miration in a remote corner of the world, they obtain a false estimate of their own impor- tance, and act as if they thought no subject so interesting as that which turns upon their own experience, their own peculiarities, or even their own faults. It does not always follow that such women admire themselves so much as the prevalence of self in their conversation would at first lead us to suppose, for in expa- tiating upon the good qualities of others, they often exclaim and why should we doubt their sincerity ? how much they wish they were like the beings they extol ! They will even speak disparagingly of themselves, and tell of their own faults without occasion ; but even while they do this with an air of humil- ity, they seldom fail to leave an impression on the minds of their hearers, that in reality they like their own faults better than the virtues of others. It is not of much consequence what u nature of the subject proposed to the attention of this class of talkers. If the weather : It does not agree with me, / like the wind from the west" If the politics of the country in which they live : " / have not given much at- tention to politics, nor do I think that women should." If any moral quality in the abstract is discussed : Oh, that is just my fault !" or, * If I possess any virtue, I do think it is that." If an anecdote la related : " That is like [or not like] me. I should [or should not] have done the same." If the beauty of any distant place is described: "/ never was there, but my uncle once was within ten miles of- it: and had it not been for the miscarriage of a letter, I should have been his companion on that journey. My uncle was always fond of taking me with him. Dear good man, I was a great pet of his." If the lapse of time is the subject of conversation : "The character undergoes many changes in a few years. I wonder whether, or in what way, mine will be altered two years hence." If the moon : " How many people write sonnets to the moon ! / never did." And thus sun, moon, and stars the whole created universe are but links in that con- tinuous chain which vibrates with perpetual music to the egotist, connecting all things in heaven and earth, however discordant or heterogeneous, by a perfect and harmonious union with self. A very slight degree of observation would enable such individuals to perceive that as soon as self is put in the place of any of the subjects in question, conversation necessarily flags, as this topic, to say the least of it, can- not be familiar to both parties. On one side, therefore, nothing further remains to be said ; for, however lovely the egotist may be in her own person, no man, or woman either, is pre- pared to have her substituted for the world in general, though it seems more than probable that the individual herself might not object to such a transposition. Another class of annoying talkers, whose claims to eminence in this line I am in no way disposed to contest, consists of the talkers of mere common-place those who say nothing jut what we could have said ourselves, had we deemed it worth our while, and who never on any occasion, or by any chance, give ut- terance to a new idea. Such people will talk. They seem to consider it their especial duty to talk, and no symptoms of inattention in their hearers, no impatient answer nor averted ear, nor even the interminable monotony of their own prattle, has the power to hush them into silence. If they fail in one thing, they try an- other ; but, unfortunately for them, there is a transmuting medium in their own discourse, that would turn to dust the golden opinions of the wisest of men. We naturally ask in what consists that ob- jectionable common-place of which we com- plain, since the tenor of their conversation is not unlike the conversation of others. It is in reality too like, too much composed of the fillings-up of conversation in general. It has nothing distinctive in it, and, like certain let- ters we have seen, would answer the pur- pose as well if addressed to one individual as another. The talker of common-place is always in- terested in the weather, which forms an all- sufficient resource when other subjects fail One would think, from the frequency with which the individual remarks upon the rising of clouds, and the falling of rain, she was perpet- ually on the point of setting out on a journey But she treats the seasons with the same re- spect, and loses no opportunity of telling the farmer who is silently suffering from a we harvest, that the autumn has been unusually unpropitious. If you cough, she hopes you have not taken cold, but really colds are ex- tremely prevalent. If you bring out your work, she admires both your industry am your taste, and assures you that rich colors are well thrown off by a dark ground. If books are the subject of conversation, she inquires whether you have read one that has just ha< a twelvemonth's run of popularity. She thinks that authors sometimes go a little toe far, but concludes, with what appears in he THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 41 opinion to be a universal case, that much may be said on both sides. From books she pro- ceeds to authors ; expatiates upon the ima- gination of Shakspeare, and the strength of mind possessed by Hannah More ; and de- liberately inquires whether you do not agree with her in her sentiments respecting both. Nay, so far does reality exceed imagination, that I once heard a very sweet and amiable woman, whose desire to be at the same time both edifying and agreeable, somewhat out- ran her originality of thought, exclaim, in one of those pauses incident to conversation " What an excellent book the Bible is !" Now, there is no gainsaying such an asser- tion, and it is almost equally impossible to as- sent. Conversation, therefore, always flags where common-place exists, because it elicits nothing, touches no answering chord, nor con- veys any other idea than that of bare sound to the ear of the reluctant listener. Another and most prolific source of annoy- ance is found among that class of persons who choose to converse on subjects interest- ing to themselves, without regard to time, or place, or general appropriateness. Whatever they take up, either as' their ruling topic, or as one of momentary interest, is forced upon society, whether in season or out of season ; and they often feel surprised and mortified that their favorite subjects, in themselves not unfrequently well chosen, are received by oth- ers with so cold a welcome. How many wor- thy individuals, whose minds are richly stored, and whose laudable desire is to disseminate useful knowledge, entirely defeat their own ends by this want of adaptation ; and many whose conversation might be both amusing and instructive, from this cause seldom meet with a patient hearer. Old people are peculiarly liable to this er- ror ; and it would be well to provide against the garrulity and wearisomeness of advanced age, by cultivating such powers of discrimi- nation as would enable us habitually to dis- cover what is acceptable, or otherwise, in conversation. It occasionally happens that the mistress of a house, the kind hospitable mistress, who has been at a world of pains to make every, body comfortable, is the very last person at the table, beside whom any of her guests would desire to be placed ; because they know that being once linked in with her intermina- ble chain of prattle, they will have no chance of escape until the ladies rise to withdraw ; and there are few who would not prefer quietly partaking of her soups and sauces, to hearing them described. Women of this de- scription, having tired out everybody at home, and taught every ear to turn away, are vora- cious of attention when they can command it, or even that appearance of it which the visitor politely puts on. Charmed with the novelty of her situation in having caught a hearer, she makes the most of him. Warm- ing with her subject, and describing still more copiously, she looks into his face with an ex- pression bordering on ecstasy ; and were it not that she cpnsiderately spares him the task of a rejoinder, his situation would be as in- tolerable as the common routine of table-talk could make it In about the same class of agreeables with this good lady, might be placed the profuse teller of tales, whose natural flow of language and fertility of ideas leads her so far away from the original story, that neither the nar- rator nor the listener would be able to answer if suddenly inquired of what the story was about. This is a very common fault among female talkers, whose versatility of mind and sensibility of feeling, render them peculiarly liable to be diverted from any definite object It is only wonderful that the same quickness of apprehension does not teach them the im- possibility of obtaining hearers on such terms. Nor mast we forget, among the abuses of conversation, the random talkers, those who talk from impulse only, and rush upon you with whatever happens to be uppermost in their own minds, or most pleasing to their fancy at the time, without waiting to ascer- tain whether the individual they address is sad or merry, at liberty to listen, or pre-oc- cupied with some weightier and more inter- esting subject Whatever the topic of conversation, thus CONVERSATION OF obtruded upon society, may be, it is evident there must be a native obtuseness and vul- garity in the mind of the individual who thus offends, or she would wait before she spoke, to tune her voice to some degree of harmony with the feelings of those around her. Thus far we have noticed only the trifling abuses of conversation, and of such we have, perhaps already, had more than enough; though the catalogue might easily be contin- ued through as many volumes as it occupies pages here. There are other aspects more serious, under which the abuse of conversa- tion must be contemplated ; and the first of these is as it relates to carelessness or design in exercising its power to give pain. It is difficult to conceive that a deliberate desire to give pain could exist in any but the most malignant bosom ; but habitual want of regard to what is painful to others, may easi- ly be the cause of inflicting upon them real misery. We have all observed perhaps some of us felt, the sting of a taunting or an ill-timed jest ; and never is the suffering it occasions, or the effect it produces, so much to be re- gretted, as when it wrings sharp tears from the gentle eyes of childhood. Ye know not what ye do, might well be said to those who thus burn up the blossoms of youth, and send back the fresh, warm current of feeling to stag- nate at the heart It would be impossible, even if such were our object, always to discover exactly when we did give pain ; but surely it would be a study well worthy of a benevolent and en- lightened mind, to ascertain the fact with as much precision as we are capable of. What, for instance, do we feel on being called upon to sympathize with a young lady who ia at the same moment pointed out to as one whose fa- ther a short time before had put an end to his existence, when the recollection simultaneous- ly flashes upon us, that during the whole of the past evening, we engaged the attention of the very same young lady with a detailed account of tlie melancholy scenes we had sometimes witnessed in an insane asylum ? Yet, neither the pain inflicted by such conversation is greater, nor is its carelessness more culpable in us, than is that of a large portion of the ill- judged, random speeches we give utterance to every day. Nor is it in common conversation that care- lessness of giving pain is felt so much, as in the necessary duties of advising and finding fault I am inclined to think no very agree- able way of telling people of their faults has ever yet been discovered ; but certainly there is a difference, as great as that which sepa- rates light from darkness, between reproof ju- diciously and injudiciously administered. By carelessness in not regulating our tones and looks and manner when reproving others, we may convey either too much or too little meaning, and thus defeat our own purposes ; we may even convey an impression the exact opposite of that designed, and awaken feel- ings of bitterness, revenge, and malignity in the mind of the individual we are solicitous to serve. Let no one therefore presume to do good, either by instruction or advice, unless they have learned something of the human heart. It may appear, on the first view of the sub- ject, a difficult and arduous study, but it is one that never can be begun too early or pur- sued too long. It is one also, in the pursuit of which women never need despair, as thev possess the universal key of sympathy, by which all hearts may be unlocked, some, it is true, with considerable difficulty, and some but partially at last ; yet, if the key be applied by a delicate and skilful hand, there is little doubt but some measure of success will re- ward the endeavor. We have said before, and we again repeat, it is scarcely possible to believe that beings constituted as women are kindly affectioned, and tenderly susceptible of pain themselves should be capable of wantonly and designedly inflicting pain upon others. Nature revolts from the thought We look at the smile of beauty, and exclaim, "Impossible!" We pursue the benevolent visitant of the sick in her errands of mercy, and say, * It cannot be." Yet, after all, we fear it must be charged upon the female sex, that they do assist occa- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 43 sionally in the circulation of petty scandal, and that it is not always from carelessness that they let slip the envenomed shaft, or speak dag- gers where they dare not use them. Nor are the speakers alone to blame. The hearers ought at least to participate, for if the habit of depreciating character were discountenan- ced in society, it would soon cease to exist, or exist only in occasional attempts, to be defeat- ed as soon as made. Few women have the hardihood to confess that they delight in this kind of conversation. But let the experiment be made in mixed so- ciety, of course not under the influence of true religious feeling, though perhaps the party might be such as would feel a little scandalized at being told they were not. Let a clever and sarcastic woman take the field, not, professedly, to talk against her neighbors on her own authority, but to throw in the hearsay of the day, by way of spice to the general conversation ; giving to a public man his private stigma to an author his unsale- able book to the rich man his trading ances- try to the poor, his unquestionable impru- dence to the beau, his borrowed plumes and to the belle, her artificial bloom. We grant that this mass of poisoning matter thrown in at once, would be likely to offend the taste. It must, therefore, be skilfully pro- portioned, distributed with nice distinction, and dressed up with care. Will there not then be a large proportion of attentive listen- ers gathered round the speaker, smiling a ready assent to what they had themselves not dared to utter, and nodding as if in silent recog- nition of some fact they had previously been made acquainted with in a more private way ] Now all this while there may be seated in another part of the room, a person whose sole business is to tell the good she knows, believes, or has heard of others. She is not a mere relater of facts, but equally talented, shrewd, and discriminating with the opposite party, only she is restricted to the detail of what is good. I simply ask, for I wish not to pursue the subject further, Which of these talkers will be likely to obtain the largest group of listeners 7 It is not, after all, by any consistent or de- termined attack npon character, that so much mischief is done, as by interlarding otherwise agreeable conversation with the sly hope of pretended charity that certain things are not as they have been reported ; or the kind wish that apparent merit was real, or might last English society is so happily constituted, that women have little temptation to any open vice. They must lose all respect for themselves, before they would venture so far to forget their respectability. But they have temptations as powerful to them, as open vice to others, and not the less so for being insidious. Who would believe that the pas- sions of envy, hatred, and revenge could lurk within the gentle bosom over which those folds of dove-colored drapery are falling? The lady has been prevailed upon to sing for the amusement of the company. Blushing and hesitating, she is just about to be led to the place of exhibition, when another move- ment, in a distant part of the room, where her own advance was not observed, has placed upon the seat of honor, a younger, and perhaps more lovely woman ; and she lays open the very piece of music which the lady in the dove-like color had believed her- self the only person present who could sing. The musician charms the company. The next day, our dove hears of nothing but this exquisite performance ; and at last she is pro- voked to say, " No wonder she plays so well, for I understand she does nothing else. Her mamma was ill the other day with a dreadful headache, and she played on, the whole after- noon, because she was going to a party in the evening, and wished to keep herself in practice." Now, there is little in this single speech. It is almost too trifling for remark ; but it may serve as a specimen of thousands, which are no determined falsehoods, nay, possibly, no falsehoods at all, and yet originate in feel- ings as diametrically opposed to Christian meekness, love, and charity, as are the ma- lignant passions of envy, hatred, and re- venge. 11 CONVERSATION OF I must again repeat, that I know the evil exists not in this individual act, but in the state of the heart where it originates ; yet I write thus earnestly about seeming trifles, because I believe few young persons are suf- ficiently alive to their importance: because I know that the minor morals of domestic life exercise a vital influence over the well- being of society ; and because the peace of whole families is sometimes destroyed by the outward observance of religious duty not be- ing supported by an equally strenuous ob- servance of these delicate but essential points. In studying the art, or rather the duty of being agreeable a duty which all kindly- disposed persons will be anxious to observe it is of importance to inquire, from whence originate the errors here specified, with the long catalogue that might follow in their train 1 So far as they are confined to mis- apprehension of what is really agreeable, they may be said to originate in the innate selfish- ness of our nature gaining the mastery over our judgment ; beyond this, they originate in the evil propensities of the human heart, which when the influence of popular feeling operates against their exhibition in any gross and palpable form, infuse themselves, as it were, into the very current of our existence, and poison all our secret springs of feeling. In order to correct the former, it is neces- sary that the judgment should be awakened. But as habits of selfishness, long indulged, involve the understanding in a cloud too dense to be altogether dispelled, it is the more important that youth should be so trained as to acquire habits of constant and unremitting mental reference to the feelings and charac- ters of others ; so that a quickness of percep- tion, almost like intuitive knowledge, shall enable them to carry out the kindly purposes they are taught to cherish, into the delicate and minute affairs of life, and thus render them the means not only of giving pleasure, but of warding off pain. It may appear a harsh conclusion to come to, that the little errors of conversation to which allusion has been made, and which are often conspicuous in what are called good sort of people, really owe their existence to selfishness; but it should be remembered, that to this assertion the writer is far from adding, that those who act with more tact, and avoid such errors, are necessarily free from the same fault There may be a refined as well as a gross selfishness, and both may be equal in their intensity and power. But let us go back to the cases already specified. If the artist were not habitually more intent upon his own gratification than upon that of his companions, he would keep his hobby in the background, and allow him- self time to perceive that the attention of his companion was pre-occupied by subjects more agreeable to him. The same may cer- tainly be said of the more common fault of making se?f the ruling topic of conversation ; and this applies with equal truth to self-de- preciation as to self-praise. The case is too clear and simple to need further argument It must be the tidbit of acting from that first and most powerful im- pulse of our nature, and just pouring forth the fulness of our own hearts, discharging our own imagination of its load, and empty- ing the storehouse of our own memory, with- out regard to fitness or preparation in the soil upon which the seed may fall, or the harvest it is likely to produce, that renders conversation sometimes tasteless and vapid, and sometimes inexpressibly annoying. The weightier responsibilities which attach to the talent of conversation, do not appear to fall directly within the compass of a work expressly devoted to the morals of domestic life. It is, however, a fact of great import- ance to establish, that a woman's private con- versation for in public they converse too much alike is the surest evidence of her mind being imbued or not imbued with just and religious principles ; that where it is uni- formly trifling, there can be no predominating desire to promote the interests of religion in the world ; and where, on the other hand, it is uniformly solemn and sedate, it is ill-calcu- lated to recommend the course it would ad- vocate with effect ; that where it abounds in sarcasm, invective, and abuse, even of what is THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 45 evil, it never emanates from a mind in per- fect unison with what is good ; and that where it is always smooth, and sweet, and complacent, it must be deficient in one of the grand uses of conversation its correction | and reproof: finally, that where it is carried on in public or in private, without the least desire to elicit truth, to correct mistakes in relation or opinion, to establish principle, to disseminate useful knowledge, to warn of danger, or to perform that most difficult but most important of all duties to correct the faults of friends there must be something wrong at the heart's core, from whence this waste of words is flowing : and sad will be the final account, if, for each day of a length- ened existence upon earth, this great engine of moral good and evil has been thus per- forming its fruitless labor for time, without an object ; for eternity, without reward. CHAPTER VI. CONVERSATION. IT may appear somewhat paradoxical to commence a chapter on the uses of conver- sation, by pointing out the uses of being silent; yet such is the importance to a woman, of knowing exactly when to cease from conver- sation, and when to withhold it altogether, that the silence of the female sex seems to have become proverbially synonymous with a degree of merit almost too great to be be- lieved in as a fact. There could be no agree- able conversation carried on, if there were no good listeners ; and from her position in socie- ty, it is the peculiar province of a woman, rather to lead others out into animated and intelligent communication, than to be intent upon making communications from the re- sources of her own mind. Besides this, there are times when men, especially if they are of moody temperament, are more offended, and annoyed by being talked to, than they could be by the greatest personal affront from the same quarter ; and a woman of taste will readily detect the for- bidding frown, the close-shut lips, and the averted eye, which indicate a determination not to be drawn out. She will then find op- portunity for the indulgence of those secret trains of thought and feeling which naturally arise in every human mind ; and while she plies her busy needle, and sists quietly mus- ing by the side of her husband, her father, or her brother, she may be adding fresh mate- rials from the world of thought to that fund of conversational amusement, which she is ever ready to bring forward for their use. By the art of conversation, therefore, as I am about to treat the subject in the present chapter, I would by no means be understood to mean the mere act of talking, but that cul- tivation and exercise of the conversational powers which is most conducive to social enjoyment, and most productive of beneficial influence upon our fellow-creatures. I have already asserted of conversation, that it is a fruitful source of human happi- ness and misery, a powerful engine of moral good and evil, and few, I should suppose, would deny the truth of this assertion. Yet, notwithstanding the prevalence of this con- viction, the art of conversation is seldom or never cultivated as a branch of modern edu- cation. It is true, the youthful mind is stim- ulated into early and immature expansion ; and the youthful memory is stored with facts, but the young student, released from the trammels of school discipline, is thrown upon society in a state of total ignorance of the means of imparting her knowledge so as to render it available in raising the general tone of conversation ; and the consequence most- ly is, she is so engrossed by the new life into which she is suddenly introduced, and so oc- cupied in learning what must be acquired before she can make any respectable figure in what is called society, that she closes the door upon the storehouse she has spent so many years of her life in filling ; and finding little use for the materials accumulated there, is only known in after years to have had a good education, by hearing her occasionally m CONVERSATION OF exclaim" I learned all about that at school, but have entirely forgotten it since." The English woman, whose peculiar part it is to blend all that is productive of benefit in her intellectual powers, with all that is conducive to happiness in her affections, would do well to give her attention as early as possible to the uses of conversation ; and if a system could be formed for teaching some of the simple rules of conversation as an art, it would be found more advantageous to women in their social capacity, than many of the branches of learning which they now spend years in acquiring. To converse by rule has indeed a startling sound, and few, we are apt to conclude, on a slight consideration of the subject, would re- commend themselves by such a process. The same conclusion, however, is always rushed upon by the young genius who first begins to try her skill in the sister arts of painting and poetry, yet, in proceeding, she finds at every step, that there must be a rule, a plan, a system, or that genius, with all her pro- fusion of materials, will be unable to form them into such a whole as will afford pleasure even to the most uninitiated. I am aware I incur some risk of being charged both with ignorance and enthusiasm, when I express my belief that the art of con- versation might in some measure be reduced to a system taught in our schools, and render- ed an important part of female education ; but I am not aware that my belief can be proved to be ill-founded until the experiment has been fairly tried. Let an individual who has never heard of botany go forth into one of our English mead- ows in the month of June, and gaze upon the luxuriance of flowers, and leaves, and shooting stems, which there would meet his eye. Tell him that all these distinct and sep- arate plants have been classed, and resolved into their appropriate orders, and he will ex- claim, M Impossible ! it cannot be." I must allow that the case is not, strictly speaking, a similar one. There are difficul- ties of no trifling magnitude in reducing the faculties of the human mind to any thing like order, and in laying down rules for the promotion of human happiness, except on the broad scale of moral philosophy. But let the two cases be fairly tried, and I am still un- convinced that the most apparently imprac- ticable would not be attended with a measure of success. If we consider the number of books that have been written on the subject of botany, the number of lectures that have been deliv- ered, the number of years it has been taught, and the number of wise men who have made it their chief study ; and if in comparison with a subject upon which such vast machi- nery of mind has been brought to operate, we do but mention that of Conversation, to which no one entire volume has, perhaps, ever yet been devoted, a smile of derision will most probably be the only notice our ob- servation will excite. I would not be understood to speak lightly of a knowledge of botany, or to depreciate the value of any other science. All I would maintain is this, that to know every thing that can be known in art and nature, is of little value to a woman, if she has not at the same time learned to communicate her knowledge in such a manner as to render it agreeable and serviceable to others. A woman does not converse more agreea- bly, because she is able to define botanically the difference between a rose and a butter- cup, though it may be desirable to be able to do so when asked ; but because she has a quick insight into character, has tact to select the subjects of conversation best suited to her auditors, and to pursue them just so long as they excite interest, and engage attention. With regard to the art of conversation, therefore, adaptation may be laid down as the primary rule vivacity, or rather fresh- ness, the second and the establishment of a fact, or the deduction of a moral, the third. Why should not the leisure hours at school be filled up by the practice of these rules, not only as a recreation, but as a pleasing art, in which it would be much to the advantage of every woman to excel ? Why should not the mistress of the school devote her time THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 47 occasionally to the exercise of this art in the midst of her pupils, who might by her win- ning manners be invited in their turn to prac- tise upon her ? And why should not some plan be invented for encouraging the same exercise among the junior members of the establishment 1 Each girl, for instance, might be appointed for a day or a week, the con- verser with, or entertainer of, one of her fel- low-students, taking all in rotation ; so that in their hours of leisure it should be her busi- ness to devote herself to her companion, as it is that of a host to a guest A report should then be given in at the expiration of the day or week, by the girl whose part it was to be conversed with, and by encourag- ing her to state whether she has been annoy- ed or interested, weari?d or amused, in the presence of. her companion, who should in her turn have the liberty of commending or complaining of her as an attentive or inat- tentive listener, a good or bad responder, such habits of candor and sincerity would be cultivated, as are of essential service in the formation of the moral character. The practice of this art, as here recom- mended, would not necessarily be restricted in its operation to any particular number. Those who attained the greatest proficiency might extend their conversational powers to other members of the establishment ; and thus might be constituted little amicable socie- ties, in which all the faculties most likely to recommend the young students in their future association with the world, would be called into exercise, and rendered conducive to the general good. To the class of women chiefly referred to in this work, it is perhaps most important that they should be able to converse with in- terest and effect. A large portion of their time is spent in the useful labor of the needle, an occupation which of all others requires something to vary its monotony, and render less irksome its seemingly interminable dura- tion ; they are frequently employed in nursing the sick, when appropriate and well-timed conversation may occasionally beguile the sufferer into forgetfulness of pain ; and they are also much at home at their humble, quiet homes where excitement from extra- neous causes seldom comes, and where, if they are unacquainted with the art, and un- initiated in the practice of conversation, their days are indeed heavy, and their evenings worse than dull. The women of England are not only pe- culiarly in need of this delightful relaxation to blend with their daily cares ; but, until the late rapid increase of superficial refinement, they were adapted, by their habits and mode of life, for cultivating their conversational powers in a very high degree. Their time was not occupied by the artificial embellish- ments of polished life, they were thrown di- rectly upon their own resources for substan- tial comfort, and thus they acquired a founda- tion of character which rendered their con- versation sensible, original, and full of point It is greatly to be apprehended that the in- creased facilities for imparting instruction in the present day, have not produced a pro- portionate increase in the facilities of con- versing ; and it is well worthy the attention of those who give their time and thoughts to the invention of improved means of dissem- inating knowledge, to inquire what is the best method of doing this by conversation as well as by books. It is not, however, strictly speaking, in imparting a knowledge of general facts, that the highest use of conversation consists. General facts may be recorded in books, and books may be circulated to the remotest range of civilized society ; but there are delicate touches of feeling too evanescent to bear the impress of any tangible character ; there are mental and spiritual appliances, that must be immediate to be available ; and who has not known the time when they would have given the wealth of worlds for the power to unburden their full hearts before the moment of acceptance should be gone, or the atten- tive ear be closed for ever 1 The difficulty is seldom so great in know- ing what ought to be said, as in knowing how to speak, what mode of expression would be most acceptable, or what turn the CONVERSATION OF conversation ought to take, so as best to in- troduce the point in question. Nor is the management of the voice an unimportant branch of this art There are never-to-be-forgotten tones, with which some cruel word has been accompanied, that have impressed themselves upon every heart; and there are also tones of kindness equally indelible, which had, perhaps, more influence at the time they were heard, than the lan- guage thy were employed to convey. " It was not what she said, but the tone of voice in which she spoke," is the complaint of many a wounded spirit ; and welcome and soothing to the listening ear is every tone that tells of hope and gladness. There is scarcely any source of enjoyment more immediately connected at once with the heart and with the mind, than that of listening to a sensible and amiable woman when she converses in a melodious and well- regulated voice, when her language and pro- nunciation are easy and correct, and when she knows how to adapt her conversation to the characters and habits of those around her. Women, considered in their distinct and abstract nature, as isolated beings, must lose more than half their worth. They are, in fact, from their own constitution, and from the station they occupy in the world, strictly speaking, relative creatures. If, therefore, they are endowed only with such faculties, as render them striking and distinguished in themselves, without the faculty of instru- mentality, they are only as dead letters in the volume of human life, filling what would otherwise be a blank space, but doing nothing more. All the knowledge in the world, therefore, without an easy and felicitous method of con- veying it to others, would be but a profitless possession to a woman ; while a very infe- rior portion of knowledge, with this method, might render her an interesting and delight- ful companion. None need despair, then, if shut out by homely avocations, by straitened means, or by other unavoidable causes, from learning all the lessons taught at school ; for there are lessons to be learned at home, around the domestic hearth, and even in the ob- scurity of rural life, perhaps of more im- portance, in the summing-up of human hap- piness. One of the popular uses of conversation is^to pass away time without being conscious of its duration ; and, unworthy as this object unquestionably is, the fact that conversation is employed more than any other means for such a purpose, is a convincing proof of its importance and its power. It is so natural to converse, that one of the severest punishments inflicted upon degraded human nature, is that of being denied the liberty of speech. How desirable is it, then, that what is done every hour in all classes of society, and under almost every variety of circumstance, should be done for some good purpose, and done in the best possible man- ner ! To converse well in company, is a point of ambition with many women, and few are in- sensible to the homage paid bjr the most sin- cere of all flatterers a group of attentive listeners. So far as this talent enables a wo- man of elevated mind to give a higher tone to conversation in general, it is indeed a val- uable gift ; but that of being able to converse in an agreeable and appropriate manner in a sick-room, with an aged parent or distressed relative, or with a friend in delicate and try- ing circumstances, is a gift of far higher and more ennobling character. I have already remarked, that attendance upon the sick is one of the most frequent and familiar, at the same time that it is one of the most sacred, of the duties devolving upon the class of women here described. It is much to be able, gently and skilfully, to smooth the pillow for the aching head, to ad- minister the cordial draught, to guide the fee- ble steps, and to watch through the sleepless and protracted hours of night But these are services rendered only to the suffering body. The mind the unextinguishable mind, may all the while be sorely in need of the oil with which its waning lamp should still be trim- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 49 med. And how shall this be administered 1 The practised nurses hired for the occasion make rude and ill-advised attempts to raise the drooping spirits of the patient by their vulgar pleasantry ; books are too wearisome, and tell only of far-off and by-gone things, when the whole interest of the sufferer is concentrated into the present moment, and fixed upon himself. It happens more frequently and more hap- pily among the middle classes in England, that nurses and domestics cannot well be hired, and that the chief attention required by the patient devolves upon the females of the family. How differently in this case is the sufferer dealt with ! There is no appear- ance of coming in expressly to converse with him ; but while a gentle and kind-hearted woman steals with noiseless tread about the room, arranging every article of comfort, and giving to the whole apartment an air of re- freshment or repose, she is watching every indication of an opening for conversation, that may beguile the lingering hours of their tediousness, and lead the sufferer to forget his pain. There are moments, even in sea- sons of sickness, when a little well-timed pleasantry is far from being unacceptable. She watches for these, and turns them to ac- count, by going just so far in her playfulness, as the exhausted frame can bear without in- jury. When sympathy is called for, as it is on such occasions almost unceasingly, she yields it freely and fully, though not to any prolonged extent, as regards the case imme- diately under her care ; but continuing the same tone and manner, and with evidently the same feeling, she speaks of other cases of suffering, of some friend or neighbor; and the more recent and immediate the instances, the more likely they will be to divert the mind of the patient from himself. These, of course, are not brought forward with any thing like a taunting insinuation that the pa tient is not worse than others, but simply as if her own mind was full of the impression they are calulated to excite ; and by these means, suiting her voice and her counte- nance to the facts she is relating, she invests them with an interest which even to the sel- fish invalid is irresistible. Varying with every change in the temper and mood of the patient, her conversation assumes every variety that is calculated to please, always subdued and kept under by such delicate touches of feeling, such intense watchfulness, and such lively sensibility, that the faintest shadow cannot pass across the aching brow, nor the slightest indication of a smile across the lips, but it serves as an in- dex for her either to change the subject of her discourse, to be silent or to proceed. There is along with all this a kindness in her voice which no pen was ever so eloquent as to describe ; and there are moments of ap- pealing weakness on the part of the invalid, when she pours forth the full tide of her af- fection in language that prosperity and health would never have taught her how to use. Beyond these seasons of intercourse, how- ever, and of far deeper value, are those in which the burdened soul of him who feels himself to be fast hastening to the confines of eternity, will sometimes seek a human ear for the utterance of its anxieties and fears, and appeal to a human heart for counsel in its hours of need. It may be that the indi- vidual has never been accustomed to con- verse on these subjects knows not how to begin and is ashamed to condemn, as he feels that he must do, the whole of his past life. Who then, but the friend who has been near him in all his recent humiliations and trials, who has shared them both to her very utmost, and thus obtained his confidence, who but his patient and untiring nurse can mark and understand the struggle of his feelings, and lead them forth by partial an- ticipations, so gently that he is neither pained nor humbled by the whole confession. Perchance it is at the hour of midnight, when fever gives him strength, and darkness hides his countenance, and he hears the sweet tones of that encouraging voice now modulated to the expression of a sympathy the most intense, and a love that many wa- ters could not quench. There Is no surprise in her rejoinder, when at last his lips have 50 CONVERSATION OF spoken what he could not utter by the light of day, but a few simple words, more like those of recognition of what she had known before, and of what it is the lot of many to experience ; and then, if ever, is the golden moment when the power to speak without wounding, and yet to speak home, is indeed an inestimable gift. It is true that suitable and salutary words might be written out for some such occa- sion ; but so differently constituted are hu- man minds, that the same words would scarcely prove suitable and salutary to any two individuals, out of the countless myriads who throng the peopled earth. Nor is the chamber of sickness the only situation in which the power of conversing easily and appropriately is of inestimable value. There are other cases of trial, of suffering, and of anxious solicitude, in which the mind would prey upon itself, even to the injury of the bodily frame, if not diverted from its object, and beguiled by pleasant con- versation. In seasons of protracted endurance, when some anticipated crisis, of immeasurable good or evil, comes not at the expected time, and every fresh disappointment only adds to the feverish restlessness which no human consti- tution is strong enough to sustain unharmed ; what amusement could be devised for such a time, at all comparable to interesting and ju- dicious conversation, gently touching upon the exciting theme, and then leading off by some of those innumerable channels which woman's ingenuity is so quick to discover, and so apt to make use of for purposes of generosity and kindness 1 There are fireside scenes, too, of frequent and familiar occurrence, in which this femi- nine faculty may be rendered more service- able than all other accomplishments scenes that derive no sadness from acute or lively suffering, but are yet characterized by an in- expressible kind of melancholy, arising from the moodiness of man, or the perverseness of woman, or, perhaps, from a combination of domestic disagreeables attaching to every member of the family, and forming over their better feelings a sort of incrustation, that must be dissolved or broken through before any thing like cheerfulness can shine forth. There is, perhaps, more real sadness aris- ing from causes like this, than from the more definite misfortunes with which we are visit- ed ; and not sadness only, but a kind of re- sentment bordering on secret malignity, as if each member of the family had poisoned the happiness of the others ; and looks are di- rected askance, books are opened, and their leaves are methodically folded over ; and yet the long dull evening will not wear away. How like a ministering angel then is the woman, who, looking off from her work, di- rects her conversation to that member of the family who appears most accessible, and having gained his attention, gives the sub- ject such a turn as to draw the attention of another, and perhaps a third, until all at last, without being aware of it, have joined in con- versing on the same topic, and the close of the evening finds them mutually agreeable to each other. On such occasions, it is by no means an insignificant attainment to be able to awaken a laugh ; for if two or three can be brought to laugh together, the incrustation is effectually broken, and they will be good friends without further effort I know it would be fruitless to lay down any minute and specific rules for conversa- tion, because none could be acted upon safely without strict reference to the object upon which they might be brought to bear. Yet it may be said to be a rule almost without exception, that all persons are pleased to be talked about themselves, their own affairs, and their own connections, provided only it is done with judgment, delicacy and tact. When all other topics have been tried with- out effect, this will seldom be found to fail. Not, certainly, pursued upon what is de- scribed as the American plan, of decided in- quisitiveness, but by remote allusions, and frequent recurrence to what has already been drawn forth, making it the foundation for greater confidence, and more definite com- munication. That species of universal politeness, which THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 51 prompts inquiry after the relations of the stranger or the guest, appears to be founded upon this principle, occurring, as it so fre- quently does, where there can be no possible interest on the part of the inquirer. It is not, however, for the purpose of pre- tending to that which does not really exist, that conversation can be recommended as an art, but simply for facilitating the expression of feelings which could not be so well ex- plained by a more direct assurance of their nature and existence. When a stranger from a distance perhaps an orphan, or one who is compelled by ad- verse circumstances to seek the means of pecuniary support comes to take up her abode in a family, no member of which she has ever seen before, by what means can the mother or the mistress of it make her feel that she is at home] She may tell her in plain words that she is disposed to make her comfortable, but it will touch with infinitely more force the heart of the stranger, if, with a countenance of kindly interest, she makes frequent and delicate mention of her friends, of her brothers or sisters, or other near rela- tions, or even of the part of the world in which she has been accustomed to reside. This kind of mention, frequently bestowed with gentleness, and evident regard to the facts it elicits or the confidence it draws forth, will be much more effectual in gaining the desired end, than the warmest expressions of affectionate solicitude for the stranger herself. I know that conversation, simply studied as an art, without right motives for its exer- cise, will be found of little benefit, either to society, or to the individuals who practise it. All I would maintain is, that it may be made the medium of conferring happiness the in- strument of doing good and that to a great- er extent than any other accomplishment in which woman can excel. For want of facility in speaking appropriately, how much good feeling is lost to the world, buried in the bo- som where it 'originates, and where it be- comes a burden and a load, from the very consciousness of inability to make it under- stood and felt ! How often do we hear the bitterest lamen- tations to this effect" If I could but have told her what I felt if I could but have ad- dressed her appropriately at the time if I had but known how to make the conversa- tion lead to the point ; but now the time has passed, and I may never have so suitable an opportunity again." Besides the cases already described, there are some darker passages in human life, when women are thrown upon the actual charm of their conversation, for rendering more alluring the home that is not valued as it should be. Perhaps a husband has learned before his marriage the fatal habit of seeking recreation in scenes of excitement and con- vivial mirth. It is but natural that such habits should with difficulty be broken off, and that he should look with something like weariness upon the quiet and monotony of his own fireside. Music cannot always please, and books to such a man are a taste- less substitute for the evening party. He may possibly admire his wife, consider her extremely good-looking, and, for a woman, think her very pleasant ; but the sobriety of matrimony palls upon his vitiated taste, and he longs to feel himself a free man again among his old associates. Nothing would disgust this man so much, or drive him away so effectually, as any as- sumption on the part of his wife, of a right to detain him. The next most injudicious thing she could do, would be to exhibit symp- toms of grief of real sorrow and distress at his leaving her ; for whatever may be said in novels on the subject of beauty in tears, seems to be rendered null and void by the circumstance of marriage having taken place between the parties. The rational woman, whose conversation on this occasion is to serve her purpose more effectually than tears, knows better than to speak of what her husband would probably consider a most unreasonable subject of com- plaint. She tries to recollect some incident, some trait of character, or some anecdote of what has lately occurred within her know- ledge, and relates it in her most lively and CONVERSATION OF piquant manner. If conscious of beauty, she tries a little raillery, and plays gently upon some of her husband's not unpleasing pecu- liarities, looking all the while as disengaged and unsuspecting as she can. If his atten- tion becomes fixed, she gives her conversa- tion a more serious turn, and plunges at once into some theme of deep and absorbing in- terest If her companion grows restless, she changes the subject, and again recollects something laughable to relate to him. Yet all the while her own poor heart is aching with the feverish anxiety that vacillates be- tween the extremes of hope and fear. She gains courage, however, as time steals on, for her husband is by her side ; and with her increasing courage her spirits become exhila- rated, and she is indeed the happy woman she has hitherto but appeared for at last her husband looks at his watch, is astonished to find it is too late to join his friends, and, while the evening closes in, he wonders whether any other man has a wife so de- lightful and entertaining as his own. Again, there is a class of beings, unfortu- nately for themselves, not always welcomed into good society, and yet severely blamed for seeking bad a nondescript species of humanity, not properly called boys nor worth- ily called men, who are, above all other crea- tures, the most difficult to converse with. They seem, in fact, to be discarded from so- ciety ; for old women are afraid of them, while young ones pronounce them bores, and old men seem uniformly inclined to put them down, while young ones do little to raise them up. Yet in these very individu- als during this season of incipient manhood, the character of the future statesman or citi- zen, father or friend, is undergoing the pro- se of formation ; and all the while, the step that owes half its fleetness to the hope of nng care and sorrow in the distance, Is on with triumphant recklessness, be- cause there is no friendly voice to arrest its progress or direct its course. Who takes the trouble to converse with a youth of this description, for we confess it is trouble, except where personal affection prompts the act ? Is there not one who will kindly endeavor to make the young heart confess itself, for a heart there must be un- der all this rude and turbulent exterior? Yes, there is one. The reckless boy, after receiving a thousand insults after having been elbowed off by one, pushed away by a second, and made game of by a third, comes home to his mother, and finds that his own fireside is indeed the happiest place on earth to him. His mother does what no one else will condescend to do : she converses with him -she treats him like a rational being. Interested in his amusements because they are his, she talks to him about his sports, his companions, and all the minutiae that fill ap his daily life, anticipating all the while such feelings and sentiments as she believes him to possess, or at least gives him credit for, and thus leads him to confess; while the boy, feeling within himself the dawning of a brighter epoch in his existence, the stirring up of half-formed thoughts about to be ma- tured, is happy and grateful to be thus err- couraged to speak freely, and to be his better self. Of evenings spent in this manner, who shall estimate the value, remembered as they often are in after life, and blended as they safely may be with that portion of self-re- spect which is always found to support the persevering, the upright, and the truly great? The cases already mentioned, serve but as specimens of the mass of evidence that might be brought forward in favor of the utility of conversation judioiously carried on : what, then, must be said of the responsibility of those who possess this talent in its highest perfection, and either neglect to use it for any laudable purpose, or devote it to a bad one ? It seems to be too much the opinion of people in general, that agreeable conversa- tion, like many other agreeable things, is only to be used for the benefit of guests and strangers. The truly English, domestic, and ireside companion has a higher estimate of this talent She knows little of what is called the world, and would be too diffident to at- tempt to make a figure in it if she did. Her THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. world is her home ; and here, on days of la- borious duty, as well as on days of pleasure, when the family circle are met around their homely hearth, as well as when the dis- tinguished guest is with them it is her chief delight to beguile what might otherwise be to them heavy hours, with cheerful conversa- tion. It is to her parents, her husband, her brothers, and her sisters, as well as to her in- timate friends, that she is the entertaining and instructive companion, adapting herself to their different moods and temperaments, leading forth their thoughts beyond them- selves, and raising them above the sordid and vexatious cares of every-day existence, until her voice becomes the music of her home, and her presence the charm that unites the different members of her household in a sacred bond of fellowship and peace. The power of conversing well, presents a great temptation to a vain woman to use it for the gratification of her self-complacency. As there are few of the minor circumstances of life more mortifying than to find, that when you speak, no one listens to the end of your story or remark ; so there is no kind of flattery more irresistible than to find that your conversation gathers hearers, more and more ; and women are but too quick to de- tect the interest they excite depicted upon every face. There is, however, a wide difference be- tween the moral state of the woman who converses well in company, solely for the sake of obtaining admiration, and of her who converses well for the sake of making the time pass pleasantly or profitably to others. The former will be sure to be found among the gentlemen, especially if she be pleasing in her appearance, and she will have wholly overlooked the neglected or insignificant in- dividuals of her own sex, who may happen to have been present. The other will have sought out the silent stranger the poor rela- tion the plain woman and all the most in- significant or unnoticed persons in the party. Especially she will have devoted herself to her own sex, and afforded to the company that rare, but noble illustration of female be- nevolencea fascinating woman in company choosing to make herself agreeable to women. If any action arising from vanity could be either commendable or great, I am disposed to think it would be so, for a woman to show that she could afford to tear herself away from the attentions of men, and devote her powers of pleasing to her own sex. The woman we have described, however, has feelings of a higher order. Her object is to use every gift she possesses for the happiness or the benefit of her fellow-creatures, and her benevolence prompts her to seek out those who are most in need of kindness and consideration. Forgetful of herself, she re gards her ability to please as one of the tal- ents committed to her trust, for the employ- ment of which she must render an account at that awful tribunal where no selfish plea will be admitted. And thus she cultivates the art of conversation for the sake of in- creasing her usefulness, of consoling the dis- tressed, of instructing the ignorant, and of beguiling of half their heaviness the neces- sary cares of life. CHAPTER VII. DOMESTIC HABITS, CONSIDERATION AND KIND- NESS. ON entering upon the subject of the do- mestic habits of the women of England, I feel the necessity of bearing in mind that all individuals in the middle class of society, and even all who are connected with trade, are by no means under the same obligations to regard their own personal exertions as a duty. So far from this, there are unques- tionably many in this class who would be entirely out of their province, were they to ngage in the manual occupations of their families and households. The possession of wealth has placed them, in these respects, on the same footing with the nobility, and they have, without doubt, an equal right to enjoy the luxuries which wealth can procure. I 54 DOMESTIC HABITS OF am, however, no less convinced that the ab- sence of all necessity for personal exertion is a disadvantage to them, and that their hap- piness would be increased, if their situations in life were such as to present more impera- tive claims upon their individual services. The virtue of consideratencss refers strictly to the characters and circumstances of those around us. From the mistress of half a dozen servants, therefore, the same kind of consid- eration can never be required, as from the mistress of one : nor can the lady of a man- sion, even though her husband should be en- gaged in trade, feel herself called to the same duties as the farmer's wife. The considerateness I shall attempt to de- fine is one of the highest recommendations the female character can possess ; because it combines an habitual examination of our own situation and responsibilities, with a quick discernment of the character and feelings of those around us, and a benevolent desire to afford them as much pleasure, and spare them as much pain, as we can. A consider- ate woman therefore, whether surrounded by all appliances and means of personal en- joyment, or depending upon the use of her own hands for the daily comforts of life, will look around her, and consider what is due to those whom Providance has placed -within ie sphera of her influence. The man who voluntarily undertakes a difficult and responsible business, first in- quires how it is to be conducted so as best to ensure success: so the serious and thoughtful woman, on entering upon the du- | ties of domestic life, ascertains, by reflection and observation, in what manner they may be performed so as to render them most con- ducive to the great end she has in view, the promotion of the happiness of others ; and as the man engaged in business does not run hither and thither, simply to make a show of alacrity, neither does the woman engaged in a higher and more important work, allow herself to be satisfied with her own willing- ness to do her duty without a diligent and persevering investigation of what are the most effectual means by which it can be done. Women are almost universally admonished of their duties in general terms, and hence they labor under great disadvantages. They are told to be virtuous ; and in order to be so, they are advised to be kind and modest, orderly and discreet But few teachers, and fewer writers, condescend to take up the mi- nutiae of every-day existence, so far as to ex- plain in what distinct and individual actions such kindness, modesty, order, and discretion consist Indeed, the cases themselves upon which these principles of right conduct are generally brought to bear, are so minute, and so apparently insignificant, that the writer who takes up this subject must not only be content to sacrifice all the dignity of author- ship, but must submit occasionally to a smile of contempt for having filled a book with trifles. In order, however, to ascertain the real im- portance of any point of merit, we should take into consideration its direct opposite. We never know the value of true kindness, so much as when contrasted with unkindness ; and lest any one should think lightly of the virtue of consideration as a moral faculty, let us turn our attention to the character and habits of a woman who is without it Such are not difficult to find, and w& find them often in the lovely, and the seemingly amiable crea- tures of impulse, who rush about, with the impetus of the moment operating as their plea, uncontrollable affection their excuse, and selfishness, unknown to them, the moving spring at the bottom of their hearts. These individuals believe themselves to be so entirely governed by amiable feelings, that they not unfrequently boast of being kind nay, too, kind-hearted: but upon whom does their kindness tell, except upon themselves ? It is true, they feel the impulse to be kind, and this impulse they gratify by allowing it to operate in any way that circumstances, or their own caprice, may point out Yet, after all, how often is their kindness, for want of consideration, rendered wholly unavailable towards the promotion of any laudable or useful purpose ! Nor is this all. Want of consideration is THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 55 often the occasion of absolute pain : and those who, because they deem it a recommendation to act from the impulse of the moment, will not take the trouble to reflect, are always, in a greater or less degree, liable to inflict misery upon others. I remember walking home on a beautiful summer's evening, with one of these lovely and impetuous creatures, who was then just entering upon all the rights and privileges of a belle, and, to my great surprise, observing that she trod indiscriminately upon all the creeping things which the damp and the dew had tempted forth in our path, I remonstra- ted with her, of course ; but she turned to me with her bewitching air of naivete, and said " And pray, why may I not tread upon the snails?" Further remonstrance was unne- cessary, for the mind which had attained ma- turity without feeling enough to prevent this reckless and disgusting waste of life, must of necessity have been impervious to reason. And thus it is with considerateness in gen- eral. If the season of youth glides over be- fore habits of consideration are acquired, they will come tardily, and with little grace, in after life. Want of consideration for those of our fellow-creatures whose love is of import- ance to us, is not, however, a subject upon which we have so much cause for complaint Jt is towards those to whom we are connect- ed by social ties, without affection and under this head, the situation of our servants and domesf cs claims the greatest care. Servants are generally looked upon, by thoughtless young ladies, as a sort of house- hold machinery, and when that machinery is of sufficient extent to operate upon every branch of the establishment, there can be no reason why it should not be brought into ex- ercise, and kept in motion to any extent that may not be injurious. This machinery, how- ever, is composed of individuals possessing hearts as susceptible of certain kinds of feel- ing, as those of the more privileged beings to whose comfort and convenience it is their daily business to minister. They know and feel that their lot in this world is compara- tively hard : and if they are happily free from all presumptuous questionings of the wisdom and justice of Providence in placing them where they are, they are alive to the convic- tion that the burden of each day is suffi- cient, and often more than sufficient for their strength. In speaking of the obligation we are under to our domestics for their faithful services, it is no uncommon thing to be answered by this unmeaning remark ; " They are well paid for what they do :" as if the bare fact of receiv- ing food and clothing for their daily labor, placed them on the same footing with regard to comfort, as those who receive their food and clothing for doing nothing. There is also another point of view in which this class of our fellow-creatures is very un- fairly judged. Servants are required to have no faults. It is by no means uncommon to find the mistress of a family, who has enjoy- ed all the advantages of moral and even re- ligious education, allowing herself to exhibit the most unqualified excess of indignation at the petty faults of a servant, who has never enjoyed either ; and to hear her speak as if she was injured, imposed upon, insulted be- fore her family, because the servant, who was engaged to work for her, had been betrayed into impertinence by a system of reproof as much at variance with Christian meekness, as the retort it was so well calculated to pro- voke. Women of such habits, would perhaps be a little surprised, if told, that when a lady de- scends from her own proper station, to speak in an irritating or injurious manner to a ser- vant, she is herself guilty of impertinence, and that no domestic of honest and upright spirit will feel that such treatment ought to be sub- mitted to. On the other hand, there is a degree of kindness blended with dignity, which servants, who are not absolutely depraved, are able to appreciate ; and the slight effort required to obtain their confidence, is almost invariably repaid by a double share of affectionate and faithful service. The situation of living unloved by their do- mestics is one which I should hope there are M DOMESTIC HABITS OF few women capable of enduring with indiffer- ence. The cold attentions rendered without affection, and curtailed by every allowable means, the short unqualified reply to every question, the averted look, the privilege stolen rather than solicited, the secret murmur that is able to make itself understood without the use of words all these are parts of a system of behavior that chills the very soul, and forces upon the mind the unwelcome conviction, that a stranger who partakes not in our com- mon lot, is within our domestic circle ; or that an alien who enters not into the sphere of our home associations, attends upon our social board ; nay, so forcible is the impression, as almost to extend to a feeling that an enemy is among the members of our own house- hold. How different is the impression produced by a manner calculated both to win their confidence and inspire their respect! The kind welcome after absence, the watchful eye, the anticipation of every wish, the thousand little attentions and acts of service beyond what are noted in the bond who can resist the influence of these upon the heart, and not desire to pay them back not certainly in their own kind and measure, but in the only way they can be returned consistenly with the rel- ative duties of both parties in kindness and consideration ] It is not, however, in seasons of health and prosperity, that this bond between the differ- ent members of a family can be felt in its full force. There is no woman so happily cir- cumstanced, but that she finds some link bro- ken in the charm which binds her to this world some shadow cast upon her earthly pictures. The best beloved are not always those who love the best; and expectation will exceed reality, even in the most favored tot. There are hours of sadness that will steal in, even upon the sunny prime of life ; and they are not felt the less, because it is sometimes impossible to communicate the rea- son for such sadness to those who are them- selves the cause. In such cases, and while the heart is in some degree estranged from natural and familiar fellowship, we are thrown more especially upon the kindness and affec- tion of our domestics for the consolation we feel it impossible to live without They may be, and they ought to be, wholly unacquainted with the cause of our disquietude ; but a faithfully attached servant, without presuming beyond her proper sphere, is quick to discern the tearful eye, the gloomy brow, the coun- tenance depressed ; and it is at such times that their kindness, solicitude, and delicate attentions, might often put to shame the higher pretensions of superior refinement In cases of illness or death, it is perhaps more especially their merit to prove, by their indefatigable and unrequited assiduities, how much they make the interest of the family their own, and how great is their anxiety to remove all lighter causes of annoyance from interference with the greater affliction in which those around them are involved. There is scarcely a more pitiable object in creation than a helpless invalid left entirely to the care of domestics whose affection never has been sought or won. But, on the other hand, the readiness with which they will some- times sacrifice their needful rest, and that, night after night, to watch the feverish slum- bers of a fretful invalid, is one of those re- deeming features in the aspect of human na- ture which it is impossible to regard without feelings of admiration and gratitude. The question necessarily follows, how are our domestics to be won over to this confi- dence and affection? It comes not by na- ture, for no tie, except what necessarily im- plies authority and subjection, exists between us. It cannot come by mutual acts of service, because the relation between us is of such a nature as to place the services almost entire- ly on their side, the benefits derived from such services, on ours. It comes, then, by instances of consideration, showing that we have their interests at heart in the same de- gree that we expect them to have ours. We cannot actually do much for them, because it would be out of our province, and a means of removing them out of theirs ; but we can think and feel for them, and thus lighten or add weight to their burdens, by the manner THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 57 in which our most trifling and familiar actions are performed. In a foregoing chapter, I have ventured a few hints on the subject of manners, chiefly as regards their influence among those who meet us upon equal terms in the social affairs of life. The influence of the manner we choose to adopt in our intercourse with ser- vants, is of such importance as to deserve fur- ther notice than the nature of this work will allow. There is a phenomenon sometimes witness- ed at the head of a well-appointed table, from which many besides myself have no doubt started with astonishment and disgust A well-dressed, well-educated lady, attired in the most becoming and fashionable costume, is engaged in conversing with her friends, press- ing them to partake of her well-flavored vi- ands, and looking and speaking with the blandest smiles ; when suddenly one of the servants is beckoned towards her, and with an instantaneous expression of countenance, in which is concealed the passion and the im- periousness of a whole lifetime, he is admon- ished of his duty in sharp whispers that seem to hiss like lightning in his ears. The lady then turns round to her guests, is again array- ed in smiles, and prepared again to talk sweetly of the sympathies and amiabilities of our common nature. There is, it must be confessed, a most ob- jectionable manner which blends familiarity with confidence ; and this ought to be guard- ed against as much in reproof as in commen- dation ; for it cannot be expected that a mis- tress who reproves her servant with coarse- ness and vulgarity, will be treated with much delicacy in return. The consideration I would recommend, so far from inviting familiarity, is necessarily connected with true dignity, be- cause it implies in the most undeviating man- ner, a strict regard to the relative position of both parties. Let us see then in what it con- sists, or rather let us place it in a stronger light by pointing out instances in which the absence of it is most generally felt There are many young ladies, and some old ones, with whom the patronage of pets appears to be an essential part of happiness ; and these pets, as various as the tastes they gratify, are all alike in one particular they are all trouble- some. If a lady engages her servants with an understanding that they are to wait upon her domestic animals, no one can accuse her of injustice. But if, with barely a sufficient number of domestics to perform the necessa- ry labor of her household, she establishes a menagerie, and expects the hard-working ser- vants to undertake the additional duty of waiting upon her pets perhaps the most re- pulsive creatures in existence to them such additional service ought at least to be solicit- ed as a favor ; and she will have no right to feel indignant, should the favor be sometimes granted in a manner neither gracious nor con- ciliating. When a servant who has been all day la- boring hard to give an aspect of comfort and cleanliness to the particular department com- mitted to her care, sees the young ladies of the family come home from their daily walk, and, never dreaming of her, or her hard la- bor, trample over the hall and, stairs without stopping to rid themselves of that encum- brance of clay, which a fanciful writer has classed among the "miseries of human life," is it to be expected that the servant who sees this should be so far uninfluenced by the pas- sions of humanity, as not to feel the stirrings of rage and resentment in her bosom 1 And when this particular act is repeated every day, and followed up by others of the same description, the frequently recurring sensa- tions of rage and resentment, so naturally ex- cited, will strengthen into those of habitual dis- like, and produce that cold service and grudg- ing kindness which has already been described. There are thousands of little acts of this de- scription, such as ordering the tired servants at an unseasonable hour to prepare an early breakfast, and then not being ready yourself before the usual time being habitually too late for dinner, without any sufficient reason, and having a second dinner served up ring- ing the bell for the servant to leave her washing, cooking, or cleaning, and come up to you to re- ceive orders to fetch your thimble or scissors, 58 DOMESTIC HABITS OF from the highest apartment in the house all which need no comment ; and surely those servants must be more than human who can experience the effects of such a system of behavior, carried on for days, months, and years, and not feel, and feel bitterly, that they are themselves regarded as mere machines, while their comfort and convenience is as much left out of calculation, as if they were nothing more. It is an easy thing, on entering a family, to ascertain whether the female members of it are, or are not, considerate. Where they are not, there exists, as a necessary consequence, a constant series of murmurings, pleadings, remonstrances, and attempted justificationsi which sadly mar the happiness of fti house- hold. On the other hand, where the female members of the family are considerate, there is a secret spring of sympathy linking all hearts together, as if they were moved by a simultaneous impulse of kindness on one side, and gratitude on the other. Few words have need to be spoken, few professions to be made, for each is hourly discovering that- they have been the subject of affectionate solicitude, and they are consequently on the watch for every opportunity to make an adequate return. If the brother comes home sad or weary, the sister to whom he has pledged himself to ome jxertion, detects the languor of his eye, and refrains from pr3ssing upon him a fulfil- ment of his promise; if the sister is laboring under depression, the brother feels himself es- pecially called upon to stand forward as her friend ; and if one of the family be suffering even slightly from indisposition, there are watchful eyes around, and the excursion is cheerfully given up by one, the party by an- other, and a quiet social evening is unani- mously agreed upon to be spent at home, and agreed upon in such a way as that the inva- lid shall never suspect it has been done at the cost of any pleasure. There is no proof of affection more kindly prompted and more gratefully received, than that of easily detecting uncomplained-of in- disposition. We might almost single out this faculty as the surest test of love for who observes the incipient wrinkle on a stranger's brow, or marks the gradually increasing pale- ness of an unloved cheek 7 Or what can convince us more effectually that we are in a world of strangers, to whom our interests are as nothing, than to be pressed on every hand to do what our bodily strength is une- qual to. There are points of consideration in which we often practice great self-deception. " Don't you think it would do you good, my dear ]" asks the young lady of her sickly sister, when the day of promised pleasure is at hand, and she begins to fear her sister's cough will ren- der it impossible to go from home. "The pain in your foot, my love, is considerably better," says the wife to her husband, when she thinks the fashionables are about leaving Bath. "You are looking extremely well," says the niece to her aged uncle, who has promised to take her to Paris; "I think I never saw you look so well." But all this is not love. It does not feel like love to the parties addressed ; for nature is true to her- self, and she will betray the secrets of art How different are the workings of that deep and earnest affection that sees with one glance how unreasonable it would be to drag forth the invalid to any participation in the enjoyments of health ; and how welcome is tha gentle Trhisper which assures us that one watchful eye perceives our suffering, one sympathizing ear participates in our weak- ness and distress ; for it ts distress to be compelled to complain that we are unequal to do what the happiness of others depends upon our doing ; and never is the voice of friendship employed in a more kindly office, than when pleading the cause of our in- firmity. It is chiefly with regard to the two sister virtues of consideration and kindness, that I look upon the women of England as so highly privileged ; because the nature of their social and domestic circumstances is such, as to afford them constantly-recurring opportuni- ties of proving that they think often and kindly of others, without any departure from the wonted routine of their conduct, that THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 59 might wear the character of a pointed appli- cation of such feelings. It has a startling, and by no means an agreeable effect upon the mind, when a wo- man who is not habitually accustomed to any sort of practical kindness, so far deviates from her usual line of conduct, as to perform any personal service solely for ourselves. We feel that she has been troubled, and suspect that she has been annoyed. But women ac- customed to practical duties are able to turn the whole tide of their affectionate solicitude into channels so wholesome and salutary, that our pride is not wounded by the obliga- tion under which we are placed, nor is our sense of gratitude impaired by the pain of being singled out as the object of unwonted and elaborate attentions. In order to illustrate the subject by a fa- miliar instance, let us imagine one of those events experienced by all who have lived to years of maturity, and experienced in such a way as to have thrown them in a peculiar manner upon the 'domestic comforts of the circle to which they were introduced the arrival, after long travel, on a visit to an early and highly valued friend. It is not necessary to this picture, that park gates should be thrown open, and footmen stationed on the steps of the hall ; it will bet- ter serve our purpose, that the mistress of the house should herself be the first to meet her guest, with that genuine welcome in her looks and manner that leaves nothing to be expressed by words. We will suppose that with her own hand she displaces all the en- cumbrance of extra wrappings, rendered ne- cessary by the winter's journey, and having quietly dismissed the expectant chaise-driver or porter, she leads her friend into the neatly furnished parlor, where another and a more familiar welcome seems at once to throw open her heart and her house for her recep- tion. A fire that has been designedly built up, is then most energetically stirred, until a bright and genial blaze diffuses its light around the room, and the guest begins to glow with the two-fold warmth of a welcome and a winter's fire. In the mean time, the servant, well taught in the mysteries of hospitality, conveys the luggage up stairs unseen, and the guest is led to the chamber appointed for her nightly rest There, most especially, is both seen and felt the kind feeling that has taken into account her peculiar tastes, and anticipated all her well-remembered wishes. The east or the west apartment has been chosen, ac- cording to the preference she has been known to express in days long since gone by, when she and her friend were girls together ; and thus the chain of fond and cherished recol- lections is made to appear again unbroken after the lapee of years, and a conviction is silently impressed upon the mind of the trav- eller perhaps the most welcome of all earthly sources of assurances that we have been remembered, not merely in the abstract but that through long, long years of change and separation, time has not obliterated from the mind of a dear friend, the slightest trace of our individuality. Perhaps none can tell until they have ar- rived at middle age, what is in reality the essential sweetness of this conviction. In our association with the world, we may have ob- tained for our industry, our usefulness, or it may be for our talents, a measure of approval at least commensurate with our deserts ; but give back to the worn and the weary in this world's warfare, the friends of their early youth the friends who loved them, faults and all the friends who could note down their very follies without contempt, and who attached a degree of interest and importance to the trifling peculiarities of their temper and feelings, which rendered them indelible memorials of an attachment, such as never can be formed in after life. To return from this digression. The Eng- lish woman, in the unsophisticated beauty of her character, has a power far surpassing what can be attained by the most scrupulous observance of the rules of art, of thus invest- ing her familiar and social actions with a charm that goes directly to the heart. We have traced the traveller to the cham- ber of her rest, and it is not in the choice of DOMESTIC HABITS OF this room alone, but in its furniture and gen- eral aspect, that she reads the cheering truth of a superintending care having been exer- cised over all it contains, in strict reference to herselft not merely as an honored guest, but as a lover of this or that small article of comfort or convenience, which in the world of comparative strangers among whom she has been living, she has seldom thought it worth her while to stipulate for, and still less frequently has had referred to her choice. Now, it is evident that the mistress of the house herself must have been here. With her own hand she must have placed upon the table the favorite toilet-cushion, worked by a friend who was alike dear to herself and her guest With her own hand she must have selected the snow-white linen, and laid out, not in conspicuous obtrusiveness, a few volumes calculated for the hours of silent meditation, when her friend shall be alone. It is impossible that the services of the most faithful domestic should be able to con- vey half the heartfelt meaning indicated by these few familiar acts, so richly worth their cost It is not from the circumstance of having all our wants supplied, that the most lively satisfaction is derived ; it is from the cheering fact that we ourselves, in our indi- vidual capacity, have been the object of so much faithful recollection and untiring love. Instead therefore of regarding it as a sub- ject for murmuring and complaint, that her means of personal indulgence do not supply her with a greater number of domestics, the true English woman ought rather to esteem it a privilege that her station in life is such as to place her in the way of imparting this ra- tional and refined enjoyment We cannot imagine the first day of hospi- table welcome complete without our visitor being introduced to that concatenation of comforts an early tea. On descending from her chamber, then, she finds all things in readiness for this grateful and refreshing meal. Her attention is not distracted by apologies for what is not there, but what, on such occasions, frequently might have been, at the cost of half the effort required for an elaborate excuse. As if the fairy order had been at work, the table is spread with all things most agreeable after weary travel ; and the guest, instead of being pressed to eat with such assiduity that she begins to think her visit has no other object, is only inter- rupted by kind inquiries relating to home as- sociations, and is beguiled into a prolonga- tion of her meal, by being drawn out into a detail of the events of her journey. As the evening passes on, their conversa- tion becomes more intimate, and while it deepens in interest, that full expansion of the soul takes place, under which, whatever English women may be in the superficial in- tercourse of polished life, I have no scruple in saying, that as fireside companions, they are the most delightful upon earth. There are such vivid imaginings, and such touches of native humor, such deep well-springs of feeling, beyond their placid exterior ; that when they dare to come forth, and throw themselves upon the charity or affection of their hearers, one is beguiled into a fascina- tion the more intense, because it combines originality of thought with gentle manners, and in a peculiar and forcible way invests the cherished recollections of the past, with the fresh warm coloring of the present hour. It is not amidst congregated masses of society, that the true English woman can ex- hibit her native powers of conversation. It It is when two are met together, with per- haps a husband or a brother for a third, and the midnight hour steals on, and yet they take no note of time, for they are opening out their separate store of treasures from the deep of memory, sharing them with each other, and blending all with such bright an- ticipations of the future, as none but a wo- man's imagination can enjoy, with faith in their reality. Or, perhaps, they are consulting upon some difficult point of duty, or sympathizing with each other in affliction ; and then, where shall we look but to the English woman for the patient listener, the faithful counsellor, the stanch supporter of each virtuous pur- pose, the keen discerner in points of doubtful THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 61 merit, and the untiring comforter in every hour of need. It would be too tedious, and might to some appear too trifling, were I to trace out the conduct of the being here described, through more of the familiar scenes presented by do- mestic life. It may also be thought by some who know little of women in this capacity, that I am drawing merely from imagination ; others will know that my coloring is true that human life, in some of its obscurest passages, has secrets of moral excellence in the female character, presenting objects as lovely as ever were revealed to the poet's fancy. Alas ! for those whose memory alone supplies them with the materials for this pic- ture who now can only feel that "such things were." The charge of trifling is one I should be sorry to incur in writing on a subject so seri- ous as the domestic morals of women ; yet how to enter into a detail sufficiently minnte without, I confess I do not clearly see. I must, therefore, again pause, and ask the reader, in my own defence, of what the ordi- nary life of a woman of the middle class of society is composed, but a mass of trifles, out of which arises the happiness or the misery of a numerous and important portion of the human race! I would also ask, What is a woman who despises trifles ] She may pos- sibly enjoy, with undisputed dignity, a niche in the temple of fame, but she ought never to descend from her marble pedestal, to mingle with the social circle around the living blaze of the domestic hearth. Those quiet, unob- trusive virtues, which are ever the most love- ly in the female character, must necessarily be the most difficult to define. They are so much more felt than seen so much better understood than described that to give them a name would be impossible, and even to portray them in an ideal picture might not perhaps convey to the mind of the beholder any adequate idea of their importance. But, as *in painting a finished picture, the skill of the artist is not only required in the general outline, but is equally requisite in the filling- up, so the perfection of the female character is not sufficiently indicated by saying she is possessed of every virtue, unless we point out the individual instances upon which those virtues are brought to bear ; and the mord minute and delicate their aspect, if they are but frequently presented to our notice, the stronger is our conviction that virtuous prin- ciple is the ground-work of the whole. With regard to the particular instance al- ready described, the case may perhaps be more clearly illustrated by adding a picture of an opposite description, in order to ascer- tain in what particular points the two cases differ. For this purpose, we will imagine a wo- man distinguished by no extreme of charac- ter, receiving her guest under precisely the same circumstances as the one already de- scribed. In this case, the visitor is permitted to see that her hostess has reluctantly laid down her book at the latest possible period of time which politeness would allow ; or, after her guest has remained twenty minutes in a vacant, and by no means inviting par- lor, she comes toiling up from the kitchen, with a countenance that makes it dreadful to be adding to her daily fatigues by placing one's self at her table ; and she answers the usual inquiries of her friend, as to her state of health, with a minute detail of the vari- ous phenomena of a headache with which she has that morning been attacked. The one domestic is then called up and wo be- tide that family, whose daily services, un- practised by its individual members towards each otlier, all emanate from one domestic. The one domestic then is ordered, in the hearing of the guest, to take all the luggage up stairs, to bring hot water, towels, soap to turn the carpets run for the best looking- glass and see that tea is ready by the time the friend comes down. The party then as- cend, accompanied by the panting servant, into a room, upon which no kind of care has been bestowed. It may possibly be neat so neat that the guest supposes it never has been, and is not yet intended to be, used. Yes, every thing is in its place ; but a gene- ral blank pervades the whole, and it is not DOMESTIC HABITS OF the least of the disappointments experienced by our guest, that she finds no water to re- fresh her aching temples. The mistress of the house is angry at this neglect, and rings the bell. The servant ascends from the kitchen to the highest room, to learn that she must go down again, and return, before half the catalogue of her faults has been told. On such errands as this, she is employed until the party descend to the parlor, where the bell is again rung more imperatively, and the tea is ordered to be brought instanter. A | In the mean time, the fire has dwindled to the lowest bar. The mistress looks for coals, but the usual receptacle is empty. She feels as if there were a conspiracy against her. Th ere j s there can be no one to blame but the servant ; and thus her chagrin is allevi- ated by complaints against servants in gene- ral, and her own in particular. With these complaints, and often-repeated apologies, the time is occupied until the appearance of the long-expected meal, when the guest is press- ed to partake of a repast not sweetened by the comments of her hostess, or the harassed and forlorn appearance of an over-worked domestic. The mistress of this house may all the while be glad to see her guest, and may really regard her as an intimate and valued friend ; but never having made it an object to prac- tise the domestic virtue of making others happy, she knows not how to convey any better idea of a welcome than by words. She, therefore, sets deliberately to work to describe how happy she esteems herself in receiving so dear a friend wishes some third party were at home hopes to be able to amuse her tells of the parties she has en- gaged for each successive evening brings out a pile of engravings fears her guest is weary and lastly, at a very early hour, rings for the chamber-candlesticks, presuming that her visitor would like to retire. It is needless to observe that the generality of visitors do retire upon this hint ; and it is equally needless to add, that the individual here described fails to exhibit the character of the true English woman, whose peculiar charm is that of diffusing happiness, without ppearing conspicuously as the agent in its diffusion. It is from the unseen, but active jrinciple of disinterested love, ever working at her heart, that she enters, with a percep- tion as delicate as might be supposed to be- ong to a ministering angel, into the peculiar eelings and tones of character influencing those around her, applying the magical key of sympathy to all they suffer or enjoy, to all they fear or hope, until she becomes identified as it were with their very being, blends her own existence with theirs, and makes her society essential to their highest earthly en- joyment. If a heightened degree of earthly enjoyment were all we could expect to obtain, by this ine of conduct, I should still be disposed to think the effect produced would be richly worth our pains. But I must again repeat, that the great aim of a Christian woman will always be, so to make others happy, that their feelings shall be attuned to the recep- tion of better thoughts than those which re- late to mere personal enjoyment so to make others happy, as to win them over to a full perception of the loveliness of those Chris- tian virtues, which her own life and conduct consistently show forth. CHAPTER VIII. DOMESTIC HABITS CONSIDERATON AND KIND- NESS. THE subject of consideration might be con- tinued to almost any extent, since it seems either to comprehend, or to be closely con- nected with, all that is morally excellent in woman. We shall, however, confine our attention to only a few more of those import- ant branches in which this fertile theme de- mands our serious thought towards those who are beneath us in pecuniary circum- stances, and towards those with whom we are associated in the nearest domestic rela- tions. The young and inexperienced having never THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 63 themselves tasted the cup of adversity, are, n a great measure, excusable for not know- ing how to treat the morbid and susceptible feelings, which the fact of having drank deep- .y of that cup often produces ; nor is it easy to communicate to their minds any idea of the extreme of suffering to which this tone of feeling may extend. Much may be done, however, by cultivating habits of considera- tion, by endeavoring sometimes to identify themselves with those who suffer, by asking how it would be with them if their parents had fallen below what, by the world, is called respectability if they were obliged to seek the means of maintaining themselves if they were admitted into families by sufferance, and only on condition that they should re- main until another home could be found, in which their own hands might minister to their necessities. There is no class of beings whose circum- stances altogether are more calculated to call forth our tenderest sympathies, than those delicate females whose fireside comforts are broken up by the adverse turn of their pecu- niary affairs, and who are consequently sent forth to share the lot of families unknown to them, and to throw themselves upon the kindness and consideration of strangers. It is in cases of this kind, especially, that we see the importance of having cultivated the moral faculties, of having instilled into the mind those sound principles of integrity, useful- ness, and moral responsibility, which, in pro- portion as they become the foundation of our familiar and daily conduct, necessarily invest every act of duty with a cheerfulness which cannot fail to be acceptable in the sight of that merciful Creator, who alone is capable of transforming what is irksome or repulsive to the natural feelings, into sources of grati- tude and delight. The frequent occurrence of such changes in the pecuniary affairs of English familie as render it necessary for the female mem- bers to be thus circumstanced is, therefore one among the many reasons, why the effects of that false refinement which is gradual!) increasing among the female part of English society, should be counteracted by the strenu- ous efforts of the well-wishers of their coun- try ; and high time it is, that all our energies should be roused, not by any means to retard the progress of intellect, but to force along with it the growth of sound principles, and the increase of moral power. Persons who are reduced in their pecuniary circumstances are generally judged of as we judge our servants, and those who are born to humble means ; they are required to have no faults, and the public cry is especially di- rected against them, if they evince the least symptom of pride. Indeed, so great is our abhorrence of this particular fault, that we often make even a slight evidence of its ex- istence a plea for the discontinuance of our bounty and our favor. We forget that the pride of the individuals in question has per- haps been ministered to throughout the whole of their former lives, and that they, no more than we, can renounce their soul-besetting sins, as they give up the luxuries they are no longer able to procure. We forget, also, that their circumstances are calculated, in an especial manner, to rouse the lurking evil, even had it never been conspicuous in their characters before. The man who floats safely upon the stream of worldly prosperity, with his early companions a little lower than himself* can afford to be gracious and conciliating; but when he begins to sink, and feels the same companions struggling to float past him, and finally leaving him to contend with his diffi- culties, his feelings towards them undergo a total change : he accounts himself an injured man, and becomes a prey to envy, disappoint- ment, and wounded pride. The world's contumely, more grievous than his actual privations, assails his peace of mind; he learns to look for unkindness, and to expect it, even where it does not exist In the stranger's eye he reads contempt and neg- lect; he lives, as it were, surrounded by daggers bleeding at every pore, and wound- ed by every thing with which he comes in contact "How absurd!" is the exclama- tion we hear from the prosperous and incon- 64 DOMESTIC HABITS OF siderate "how worse than absurd for a man to be feeling in this manner, because he has tot a few hundreds !" And yet men do feel to such a-degree, that nothing but reli- gion can enable them to bear such vicissitudes with calmness and resignation. And even when supported by religion, it has pleased our heavenly Father to accompany these dispensations of his providence, with a de- gree of suffering to which no human mind is insensible. It is generally regarded as the extreme of benevolence, if, in oar intercourse with such persons, we treat them exactly as we did in more prosperous days ; and few there are who can at all times withhold expressions equivalent to these : " How unreasonable it is to expect so much attention now ! It is not likely we can ask that family to meet our friends; we should be willing still to notice them in a private way, if they would but be more grateful more considerate." And thus they are allowed to pass away from our social gathering? 1 , to be called upon perhaps occasionally at their own humble abodes, but by no means to be invited in return, lest some of our wealthier friends should detect us in the act of performing the offices of hospitality to a person in a threadbare coat And yet this family may have done nothing worse than thousands are doing every day than even our richest and dearest friends are doing and we may know it all the while. It sickens the heart to think of these things, and to reflect how far how very far, even the good and the kind, fall short of that beautiful and heart-touching injunction of our blessed Saviour, " When thou makest a feast, call the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind." The wealthy and distinguished man, with whom we have but a slight acquaintance, sends his son into our neighborhood on busi- ness or pleasure. We hear of his coming, and persuade ourselves it is but respectful to invite him to be our guest It is at the expense of our domestic comfort that we entertain him but that is nothing. Diffi- culties appear on every hand to vanish as soon as they appear ; we even persuade ourselves that a sort of merit attaches to our doing all in our power to accommodate the son of so distinguished a person. The poor widow, perhaps our relative, sends her son to town to seek a situation, and we hear of his coming. We knew his mother in more prosperous days. She was a worthy woman then, but her husband died insolvent, and the family necessarily fell away from what they had been. It cannot be at all incumbent upon us to ask such young men as these to our houses. They might come in shoals. Our domestic com- fort would be sacrificed, and it is the duty of every one to maintain the peace and order of their own household. Thus the widow's son is allowed to wan- der up and down the streets, to resort to expensive lodging-houses, and to purchase, with the pittance provided by his mother from her slender means, that accommodation which a little Christian hospitality might have spared him. We complain that our streets are thronged on the Sabbath-day with troops of idle young men and women, who afford a painful spec- tacle to those who pass them on their way to; public worship. How many of these ap- prentices, and assistants in business are actually driven into the streets from very want of any thing like a hospitable or social home ! I am by no means prepared to say, how far true Christian benevolence, acted out towards this class of the community, would; lead us to give up our domestic comfort for their sakes, and for the sake of preserving them from harm; but I do know it would lead us to adopt a very different treatment of them, from that which generally prevails ; and I consider also, that these duties rest especially with women. It is not easy for a man who has to fill the office of master to a number of apprentices and assistants during the hours of business, to unbend before them at his own fireside. But a considerate and high-principled wo- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 65 man, may, without loss of dignity, and cer- tainly without loss of respect, make them feel that she regards it as her duty to be their friend as well as their mistress, and that she looks upon herself as under a sa- cred obligation to advise them in difficulties, to guard their welfare, and promote their comfort, simply because the all-wise Disposer of human affairs has seen meet to place them within the sphere of her influence. I have devoted a chapter to the influence of English women. Many chapters might be filled with the duties of tradesmen's wives towards the young people employed in their husbands' affairs, and the responsi- bility attaching to them, for the tone of moral character which such persons exhibit through the whole of their after lives. Of how little value, in this point of view, is the immense variety of accomplishments generally ac- quired at school, compared with the discrimi- nation and tact that would enable a woman to extend her influence among the class of persons here described, and the principle that would lead her to turn such influence to the best account ! How many a mother's heart would be made glad by finding, when her son returned to his home, that he had expe- rienced something of a mother's kindness from his master's wife ; and how many a father would rejoice that his child had been preserved from the temptations of a city life, by the good feeling that was cherished and kept alive at his master's fireside ! It is for circumstances such as these, that a large proportion of the young women of England, now undergoing the process of education, have to prepare. Not to imitate the heroines they read of; but to plunge into the actual cares, and duties, and responsi- bilities of every-day existence. They will probably have little time either for drawing or music, may seldom be spoken to in a for- eign tongue, and hardly have any opportuni- ty of displaying half the amount of verbal knowledge with which their memories have been stored. But they w T ill, if they are at all intent upon fulfilling the great end of their existence, have to bethink themselves every hour, what is best to be done for the good and the happiness of those around them. For this great and laudable purpose, it is of the highest importance that they should cul- tivate habits of consideration ; for how else can they expect to enter into the states of mind, and modes of feeling of those with whom they associate, so as to render the means they use effectual to the end desired! It happens to almost all families, in the middle rank of life in England, that they are directly or remotely connected with relatives whose pecuniary means are much more lim- ited than their own. To these, as well as to persons of recently decayed fortune, it is generally thought highly meritorious to ex- tend the common courtesies of society. It implies no disrespect to this class of individ- uals, to call them poor relations ; since the poor are often brought into a state of whole- some discipline, which eventually places them higher than the rich in the scale of moral worth. The poor relation may possibly have known in very early life what it was to enjoy all the comforts that ample means afford ; but she becomes at last a sort of useful ap- pendage to an uncle's or a brother's family, or is invited by her cousins whenever they happen to be in arrears with their plain- work when one of the family wants nursing through a tedious illness or when they are going abroad, and require some one to over- look the household in their absence. The poor relation, in the first place, is shown up stairs into a kind of tolerable attic, where the walls are white-washed, and where a little bed with blue-check curtains is pre- pared for her accommodation. They hope she will not mind sleeping in the attic in- deed they are sure she will not, she is such a dear good creature ; besides, they all like the attic for the view it commands, and mamma says it is the most comfortable room in the house : yet, somehow or other, the young ladies never sleep in the attic themselves; and considering it is the most desirable room in the house, and commands so excellent a view, it is astonishingly seldom occupied. The poor relation is then introduced to DOMESTIC HABITS OF company without a name is spoken of as the person staying at Mrs. So and So's ; and, alter being told that she need not sit longer than is agreeable to her after meals, is fairly installed into office by being informed, that the south chamber is very warm without a fire, and has a good light too, so that she can see an hour longer there than in any other. Here the different members of the family bring their work for her to do, looking round every time they enter, with a hope that she does not feel cold. From the young lady of twenty years, to the child of three, a demand is made upon her for the supply of all absent buttons, and all broken strings. All the stock- ings hoarded up against her coming are brought to her to be darned all borders to quill all linen to be mended : and this inun- dation of work is the natural consequence of her having shown symptoms of a desire to be generally agreeable ; but if no such desire has been exhibited, wo betide the poor rela- tion who proposes a visit to a rich one, where kindly feeling and habits of consideration have never been cultivated. I remember it was very startling to me in my youth, and appeared to me at that time a contradiction in human nature, that, while people had comfortable homes, and were sur- rounded by every thing that could minister to enjoyment, they were often invited out to partake of the enjoyments of their friends, and so pressed to prolong such visits, that it seemed as if their friends could never be weary of their society. But, let the same in- dividuals hare no home, let them be placed in circumstances calculated to render an in- vitation peculiarly acceptable, and it was with difficulty obtained, or not obtained at all. Though in all respects as agreeable as in former days, they were not pressed to stay beyond a very limited period ; and some who had been the most solicitous to enjoy the fa- vor of their company, suddenly found their accommodations eo exceedingly small, that they could not invite any guest to partake of their hospitality. But these, my sisters, are disgraceful ways, for woman warm-hearted, generous, noble- minded woman, to fall into. From men we expect not all those little niceties of behavior and feeling that would tend" to heal the wounds of adversity. Their necessary pur- suits deprive them of many opportunities of making the unfortunate and afflicted feel, that amidst the wreck of their worldly hopes, they have at least retained some moral dig- nity in the estimation of their friends ; but from woman we do look for some redeeming charities, some tenderness of heart among the sordid avocations and selfish pursuits of this life ; and never do they rise to such true eminence, as when they bestow these chari- ties, and apply this tenderness to the broken in spirit, the neglected, and the desolate, who are incapable of rendering them any return. Harassed by the cares and perplexities of a sordid world, and disappointed in the high promise of our early youth ; neglected, per- haps despised where we had hoped to find protection and support in the hour of trial ; driven out from the temples of our soul's idol- atry, it is to woman that we look for the man- tle of charity, to cast over the blighted bosom for the drop of sweetness to mingle with our bitter cup. We stretch our eyes over the wide tumultuous ocean of life, for some spot on which our ark may rest We send forth the raven, and it returns not ; but the gentler dove comes back with the olive-branch, and we hail it as a harbinger of safety and peace. Although it must be confessed that women are sometimes too negligent of the tender offices of kindness towards those who have no immediate claim upon their affections, there remains some excuse for this particular species of culpability, in the general usages of society ; and in the example of discreet and prudent persons, who deem it ureafe to deviate in any conspicuous manner from the beaten track of custom. No excuse, how- ever, can be found for those who permit the closer ties of relationship to exist, without endeavoring to weave into the same bond, all the tender sympathies of which the human heart is capable. Brothers and sisters are so associated in English homes, as materially to promote each THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 67 other's happiness, by the habits of kindness and consideration which they cultivate ; and when a strong friendship can be formed be- tween such parties, it is perhaps one of the most faithful and disinterested of any which the aspect of human life presents. A young man of kind and social feelings is often glad to find in his sister, a substitute for what he afterwards ensures more permanently in a wife ; and young women are not backward in returning this affection by a love as con- fiding, and almost as tender as they are capa- ble of feeling. Their intercourse has also the endearing charm of early association, which no later-formed acquaintance can supply. They have shared the sunny hours of child- hood together ; and when the young man goes forth into the world, the love of his sis- ter is like a talisman about his heart. Wo- man, however, must be watchful and studi- ous to establish this intimate connection, and to keep entire the golden cord by which they are thus bound. Affection does not come by relationship alone ; and never yet was the affection of man fully and lastingly engaged by woman, without some means being adopt- ed on her part to increase or preserve his happiness. The childish and most unsatis- factory fondness that means nothing but "I love you," goes but a little way to reach the heart of man ; but let his home be made more comfortable, let his peculiarities of habit and temper be studiously consulted, and so- cial and familiar gratifications provided for his daily use ; and, unless he is ungrateful beyond the common average of mankind, he will be sure to regard the source from whence his comforts flow with extreme complacency, and not unfrequently with affection. On the other hand, let the sister possess all that ardor of attachment which young ladies are apt to believe they feel, let her hang about his neck at parting, and bathe his face with her tears ; if she has not taken the trouble to rise and prepare his early meal, but has allowed him to depend upon the servant, or to prepare it for himself; it is very questionable whether that brother could be made to believe in her affection ; and cer- tainly he would be far from feeling its value. If, again, they read some interesting volume together, if she lends her willing sympathy, and blends her feelings with his, entering in- to all the trains of thought and recollection which two congenial minds are capable of awakening in each other; and if, after the book is closed, he goes up into his chamber late on the Saturday night, and finds his lin- en unaired, buttonless, and unattended to, with the gloves he had ten times asked to have mended, remaining untouched, where he had left them ; he soon loses the impres- sion of the social hour he had been spending, and wishes, that, instead of an idle sister, he had a faithful and industrious wife. He rea- sons, and reasons rightly, that while his sister is willing to share with him all that is most agreeable to herself, she is by no means will- ing to do for his sake what is not agreeable, and he concludes his argument with the con- viction, that notwithstanding her professions, hers is not true affection. I do not mean that sisters ought to be the servants of their brothers, or that they should not, where domestics abound, leave the prac- tical part of these duties to them. All that is wanted is stronger evidence of their watchfulness and their solicitude for their brothers' real comfort. The manner in which this evidence shall be given, must still be left to their judgment, and their circumstances. There are, however, a few simple rules, by which I should suppose all kindly affectioned women would be willing to be guided. No woman in the enjoyment of health should allow her brother to prepare his own meals at any time of the day, if it were possible for her to do it for him. No woman should al- low her brother to put on linen in a state of dilapidation, to wear gloves or stockings in want of mending, or to return home without finding a neat parlor, a place to sit down without asking for it, and a cheerful invita- tion to partake of necessary refreshment. All this I believe is often faithfully done, where the brother is a gentlemanly, attract- ive, and prepossessing person in short, a person to be proud of in company, and DOMESTIC HABITS OF pleased with in private ; but a brother is a brother still, even where these attractions do not exist ; where the duty is most irksome, the moral responsibility is precisely the same as where it is most pleasing. Besides, who knows what female influence may not effect? It is scarcely probable that a younger brother, treated by his sisters with perpetual con- tempt, almost bordering upon disgust, re- garded as an intolerable bore, and got rid of by every practicable means, will grow up in- to a companionable, interesting, and social man ; or if he should, he would certainly re- serve these qualities for exercise, beyond the circle of his own fireside, and for the benefit of those who could appreciate him better than his sisters. The virtue of consideration, in the inter- course of sisters with brothers, is never more felt than in the sacred duty of warning them of moral evil, and encouraging them in moral good. Here we see in an especial manner the advantages arising from habits of per- sonal attention and kindness. A woman who stands aloof from the common offices of domestic usefulness, may very properly ex- tend her advice to a husband, a brother, or a son ; but when she has faithfully pointed out the fault she would correct, she must leave the object of her solicitude, with his wounded self-love unhealed, and his irritated feelings unrelieved. She has done her duty, and the impression most frequently remaining upon the mind of the other party is, either that she has done it in anger, or that it is impossible nhe can love a being of whom she entertains such hard thoughts. The sister, who is accustomed to employ her hands in the services of domestic life, is, on these occasions, rich in resources. She feels the pain she has been compelled to give, and calculates how much she has to make up. It is a time for tenfold .effort ; but it must be effort without display. In a gentle and unobtrusive manner, she does some ex- tra service for her brother, choosing what would otherwise be degrading in its own na- ture, in order to prove in the most delicate manner, that though she can see a fault in him, she still esteems herself his inferior, and though she is cruel enough to point it out, her love is yet so deep and pure as to sweet- en every service she can render him. It is impossible for the human heart to re- sist this kind of evidence, and hence arises the strong influence that women possess over the moral feelings of those with whom they are intimately associated. If such, then, be the effect of kindness and consideration upon the heart of man, what must we expect when it operates in all its force and all its sweetness upon that of wo- man. In her intercourse with man, it is im- possible but that woman should feel her own inferiority ; and it is right that it should be so. Yet, feeling this, it is also impossible but that the weight of social and moral duties she is called upon to perform, must, to an unsanctified spirit, at times appear oppres- sive. She has innumerable sources of dis- quietude, too, in which no man can partake ; and from the very weakness and suscepti- bility of her own nature, she has need of sympathies which it would be impossible for him to render. She does not meet him upon equal terms. Her part is to make sac- rifices, in order that his enjoyment may be enhanced. She does this with a willing spirit ; but from error of judgment, or want of consideration, she does it so often without producing any adequate result, and so often without grateful acknowledgment, that her spirit sometimes sinks within her, and she shrinks back from the cares and anxieties of every day, with a feeling that the burden of life is too heavy to be borne. Nor is the man to be blamed for this. He knows not half the foolish fears that agitate her breast He could not be made to know, still less to understand, the intensity of her capability of, suffering, from slight, and what to him would appear inadequate causes. But women do know what their sex is formed to suffer ; and for this very reason, there is sometimes a bond existing between sisters, the most endearing, the most pure and disin- terested of any description of affection which this world affords. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 69 I am the more inclined to think that the strength of this bond arises chiefly out of their mutual knowledge of each other's ca- pability of receiving pain ; because, in fami- lies whose circumstances are uniformly easy, and who have never known the visitation of any deep affliction, we often see the painful spectacle of sisters forming obstacles to each other in their progress both to temporal and eternal happiness. They seem to think the hey-day of life so unlikely to be clouded, that they can afford, wantonly and perversely, to intercept the sunshine that would other- wise fall upon each other's path ; or to cal- culate so confidently upon the continued smoothness of the stream of time, that they sportively drive each other upon the rocks and the quicksands, which, even in the glad season of youth, will occasionally appear ; while the very fact of knowing each other's weak points of character, while it ought to excite their utmost tenderness, only affords them subjects for tormenting sarcasm, and biting scorn. I have heard of hackney-coachmen in a certain highly civilized metropolis, who adopt the cruel practice of lashing a galled or wounded part, if they can find one in the wretched animals they drive ; but I hardly think the practice, abhorrent as it is, de- mands our condemnation more than that of the women who are thus false and cruel to each other who, because they know exactly where to wound, apply the instrument of tor- ture to the mind, unsparingly, and with the worst effect. Let us glance hastily over the humiliating supposition that such a propensity does ac- tually exist among women. Let us glance hastily, too, over the long train of minute and irremediable evils which the exercise of such a propensity is calculated to produce the wounded feeling, the imagined injury, the suspicious dread, the bitter retort, and the secretly-cherished revenge. It is not enough for those who practise such habits to say, " I mean no harm : I love my sister, and would do her any signal service in my power." Opportunities of performing signal services do not often fall in our way ; but while we wait for these, we have opportunities innu- merable of soothing or irritating the feelings of others, as our own dispositions prompt of repelling or attacking of weaning affec- tion, or of inspiring confidence ; and these ends are easily obtained, by the manner in which we conduct ourselves towards those whom Providence has placed immediately around us. So many young women, however, escape the censure here implied, by their self-com- placency on the score of general kindness, that it may, perhaps, be as well to speak more explicitly on this important subject. It is not, then, to direct unkindness that I refer, but to that general absence of kind consider- ation, which produces the same effect. Per- haps one sister is unreasonably elated at the success of some of her plans : and in the midst of her ecstatic joy she finds herself mimicked with all the air of ineffable con- tempt, by another. Perhaps one sister is rather unusually depressed in spirits from some incommunicable cause : the others pre- tend to weep, and make her gravity the sub- ject of their merriment Perhaps, in a mo- ment of extreme embarrassment, she has committed some breach of good breeding, or looked awkward, or spoken foolishly : she finds afterwards that watchful eyes have been upon her, and that her every tone and move- ment have been the subject of ridicule in a little coterie of her sisters and her friends. Above all, perhaps she has gone a little too far in meeting the attentions of the other sex, and a merciless outcry is raised against her, with her sisters at its head. Besides all this, there are often the strong wills of both parties set in opposition to each other, with a pertinacity that time itself is unable to subdue. For if, from the necessity of circumstances, one sister has on one occa- sion been compelled to give way, she is only fortified with fresh resolution for the next point of dispute, that she may enjoy her turn of victory and triumph. These disputes are often about the merest trifles in the world, things so entirely worthless and unimportant DOMESTIC HABITS OF in themselves, that to find they have been the cause of angry words or bitter feelings, I may well excite our astonishment, at the same time that it ought to teach us fresh lessons of distrust of ourselves, of humility, and watchful care. It is in this manner that sisters will some- times embitter their early days, and make what ought to be the bower of repose, a scene of rivalry and strife. But let us change this harsh picture, and turn to the sunnier hours of youthful love, when sisters who have shared one home in childhood, then separa- ted by adverse circumstances, return, after the lapse of years, to enjoy a few brief days of heart-communings beneath the same roof again. How lovely then are the morning hours, when they rise with the sun to length- en out the day ! They seat themselves in the old window, where their little childish bands were wont to pluck the tendrils of the rambling vine. They look out upon the lawn, and it is arrayed in the same green as when they gambolled there. The summer- apple tree, from whence they shook the rosy fruit, has moss upon its boughs; and the spreading ash reminds them they are no longer able to climb its topmost branch. What vicissitudes have they known what change of place and circumstance have they experienced since they planted the small osier that now stands a stately willow by the stream ! We will not ask what cruel neces- sity first drove them separately from this peaceful abode what blight fell on their prospects what ruin on their hopes. Are they not sisters unchanged in their affec- tion 1 and in this very consciousness they have a world of wealth. Where is the keen, contemptuous gaze of satire now 1 Where are the bickerings, the envyings, the words of provocation 1 They would esteem it sac- rilege to profane that place and hour with other thoughts than those of kindness. The mote and the beam have vanished from their eyes; they know each other's faults, but they behold them only to pity and forgive, or speak of them only to correct Each heart is laid bare before the others, and the oil and wine are poured in to heal the wounds which the stranger has made. Each has her own store of painful experience to unfold ; and she weeps to find her sister's greater than her own. Each has had her share of insult, coldness, and neglect ; and she is roused to indignation by hearing that her sister has had the same. Self becomes as nothing in com- parison with the intense interest excited by a sister's experience ; and as the secret anxie- ties of each bosom are revealed, fresh floods of tenderness are called forth, and the early bond of childhood, strengthened by vicissi- tudes and matured by time, is woven yet more closely around the hearts of all. Thus they go forth into the world again, strong in the confidence of that unshaken love which formed the sunshine of their childhood, and is now the solace of their riper years. They may weep the tears of the alien in the stran- ger's home, but they look forward to the summer-days of heart-warm confidence, when they shall meet again with the loveliest and the most beloved of all earth's treasures, and the wintry hours pass over them bereft of half their power to blight If such be the experience, and such the enjoyments of sisters separated by affliction, what must be the privileged lot of those, who, without any change of fortune, any fall- ing off from the golden promise of early life, or any heart-rending bereavement, learn the happy art of finding their enjoyment in each other, by studying what will make each other happy! There may be faithful friendships formed in after years ; but where a sister is a sister's friend, there can be none so tender, and none so true. For a brother, she may possibly entertain a more romantic attach, ment, because the difference in their circum- stances may afford more to interest their feelings ; but there is one universal point of failure in the friendship that exists between brothers and sisters when a man marries, he finds in his wife all that he valued in his sister, with a more endearing sense of cer- tainty in its possession ; and when a woman marries, she finds all that she needed in the way of friendship and protection, with more THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 71 of tenderness, of interest, and identity, than it was possible for her to experience in the affection of her brother. Hence there arises, even in the uncalculating breast of youth, a suspicion that this friendship cannot last : and the breaking up of those establishments in which the sister has regulated the domes- tic affairs of her brother, is often a melancholy proof that the termination of their intimacy ought to have been calculated upon with more certainty than it generally is. With sisters the case is widely different. They may seek in vain, through all the high and noble attributes of man, for that which is to be found alone in the true heart of wo- man ; and, weak themselves, susceptible, de- pendent, and holding their happiness as it were with a sword suspended above their heads, they have need to be faithful to each other. No friend in after life can know so well as a sister what is the peculiar and natural bias of the character. Education may change the manners, and circumstances may call new faculties to light ; but the old leaven remains at the heart's core, and a sister knows it well. Women often share with other friends en- joyments in which their sisters take no part ; but they have not roamed together over that garden whose very weeds are lovely the fertile and luxuriant garden of childhood ; they have not drank together at that foun- tain whose bubbling waters are ever bright and pure the early fountain of domestic joy ; and the absence of this one charm in their friendship, must necessarily shut them out from participation in a world of associations, more dear, more beautiful, and more endur- ing than the longest after life can supply. I know not how it is with others, but it seems to me, that there never is there never can be, amusement so original, so piquant, and so fraught with glee, as that which is enjoyed among happy sisters at their own fireside, or in their chamber, where one hardly would deny them all their idle hours of laughter and delight. The very circumstances which to one alone would have been a burden of heavy care, when participated in, are nothing; and the mere fact of talking over all their daily trials, sets every bosom free to beat and bound with a new life. We must not however forget, it is in sea- sons of affliction that we prove the real value of the deep well-spring of a sister's love. Other hands, and hands perhaps as skilful, may smooth our couch in sickness. Other voices may speak words^of kindness in our hour of need, and other eyes may beam upon us with tenderness and love ; but can they ever be like the hands that joined with ours in twining the rosy wreaths of infancy the voices that spoke sweetly to us in the tones of childhood the eyes that gazed with ours, in all the wonder of first dawning thought, abroad upon the beautiful creation, over the earth and sea, the green hills, and the waving woods, and up to the starry heavens, that page of glory too bright for human eye to read? No ; there is something in the home-fel- lowship of early life, that we cannot, if we would, shake off in the days of darkness and distress, when sickness clouds the brow, and grief sits heavily upon the heart. It is then that we pine for the faithful hand, the voice that was an echo to our own, and the kin- dred countenance so familiar in our childhood ; and sisters who are kindly affectioned one towards another, are not slow to answer this appeal of nature. Tender and delicate wo- men are not backward to make sacrifices in such a cause. They will hasten upon diffi- cult and dangerous journeys, without feeling the perils they undergo. The anticipated accidents of time and chance have no weight with them, for self is annihilated by the over- whelming power of their affection. Obsta- cles cannot hinder, nor persuasion retard their purpose : a sister suffers, and they es- teem it their highest privilege to assert, in defiance of all opposition, the indisputable claims of a sister's love. They have an in- alienable right to share in her calamity, what- ever it may be, and this right they will not resign to another. But what shall stay my pen, when I touch upon this fertile and inexhaustible theme? 72 DOMESTIC HABITS OF Sisters who have never known the deepest, holiest influence of a sister's love, will not be enabled, from any definition I can offer, to understand the purity, and the refreshing i power of this well-spring of human happiness. Sisters who have known this, will also know that its height and its depth are beyond the power of language to describe ; that it is, in- deed, the love which many waters cannot quench, neither can the floods drown it Is it not, then, worth all the cost of the most studious consideration, the most care- ful kindness, to win this treasure, and to make it ours ? to purchase this gem, and to wear it next our hearts ? I have pointed out some of the means by which it may be lost or won : I will now point out the most important rea- sons why it should be cherished with un- ceasing assiduity. Sisters have an almost unbounded influ- ence over each other ; and all influence im- plies a proportionate degree of moral respon- sibility. The tone and temper of the human mind must be closely watched, and intimate- ly studied, in order to apply with effect the means of benefit The most zealous endea- vors to do good, may fail for want of oppor- tunity ; but opportunity never can be want- ing to those who share the same domestic hearth, who sit at the same board, and oc- cupy the same chamber of rest There must, with such, be unveilings of the heart before each other. There must be seasons for ad- ministering advice, and for imparting instruc- tion, which the stranger never can command. But without the practice of those habits of kindness and consideration, so earnestly re- commended here, the nearest relative, even the sister, may be placed on the same footing as the stranger, and have no more familiar access to the heart than the mere acquaint- ance. It is therefore most important to the true Christian, whose desire is to invite others to a participation in the blessings she enjoys, that f-he should seek to promote the happi- ness of those around her, in such a way as to render them easy and familiar in her pres- ence, and to convince them that she is in word and deed their friend. Until this object is attained, little good can be done in the way of influence ; but this secured, innumerable channels are opened, by which an enlighten- ed mind may operate beneficially upon others. We will imagine the case of a sister, whose feelings have been recently impressed with the importance of some hitherto unpractised duty, and who, at a loss how to begin with that improvement in her daily conduct which conscience points out as necessary to her peace, shrinks from the notice of the world, abashed at the idea of assuming more than she has been accustomed to maintain. With what fear and trembling will such a one, in her closet or her chamber, at the close of the summer's evening, or by the last glimmer of the winter's fire, when she and het sister share the silent hours of night together, un- fold the burden of her spirit, and reveal the inner workings of her troubled mind ! What should we say of a sister who treated this confidence with treachery, with ridicule or spleen 7 What should we say, but that she deserved to find the heart she has thus in- sulted a sealed book to her forever 1 What should we say, on the other hand, of her who met this confidence with tenderness and respect ] That she enjoyed one of the great- est privileges permitted us in this our imperfect and degraded state, the privilege of imparting consolation and instruction at the same time, and of binding to her bosom the fond affec- tion of a sister, as her comfort and support through all her after years. It is a common remark for sisters to make upon each other, that they would have paid some deference to the religious scruple, or the pious wish, had it originated with a more consistent person. They should remember, that there must be a dawning of imperfect light, to usher in the perfect day ; and that he who crushes the first germ of vegetation, commits an act equivalent to that of him who fells the stately tree. They should remem- ber also it is not only the great and public ef- forts of Christian benevolence and charity, that are owned of God, and blessed with his approval ; but that at the hour of midnight, THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 73 in the secret chamber, when the world takes no cognizance of our actions, His eye beholds them, and his ear is open to detect the slight- est whisper that conveys its blessing or its bane to the heart of a familiar friend. CHAPTER IX. DOMESTIC HABITS, CONSIDERATION AND KINDNESS. THERE yet remain some aspects of human life, which it is impossible to pass over with- out the most earnest solicitude, that even if in all other capacities woman should forget her responsibilities, she might remember what is due from her in these. It is, then, to the sacred and inalienable bond between a daugh- ter and her parents, that our attention must now be given. It would seem but reasonable to suppose, that as soon as an amiable young woman of even partially enlightened mind, attained that stage of maturity when most rational beings begin to make use of their own powers of observation, she would naturally be led to reflect upon the situation of her mother, to contemplate her character and habits, and to regard with sympathy at least, the daily and hourly fatigues and anxieties which the na- ture of her domestic circumstances renders it necessary for her to undergo. If the young person has brothers or sisters less advanced in life than herself, she cannot fail to observe the assiduity with which all their wants are provided for by maternal care, as well as the self-denial and disinterested love, by which their safety is guarded, and their happiness preserved. It is equalty reasonable to suppose, that having such interesting subjects of grateful and affectionate consideration continually present to her eye, and to her mind, the young person would reason thus : " In this manner my mother has watched over me. Through long nights of weariness and ex- haustion she has rocked me in her arms, and stilled the sighs of her own bosom, from the fear of disturbing my repose. Not only has she denied herself every amusement and every gratification that would have drawn her away from the sphere of my childish pas- times, but also the wonted recreations neces- sary for the preservation of her health ; until her cheek grew pale, and her step feeble in my service. I was then unable to make any other return than by my infantine caresses ; and often when she was the most weary, or the most enfeebled, my pampered selfishness was the most requiring. Thus I have in- curred a debt of gratitude, for the repayment of which the limit of a natural life will scarce- ly be sufficient The summer of her exist- ence is waning, mine is yet to come. I will so cultivate my feelings, and regulate my habits, as to enjoy the happiness of sharing her domestic burdens, and thus prove to her that I am not unmindful of the benefit I have myself derived from the long-suffering of a mother's love." Do we find this to be the prevailing feel- ing among the young ladies of the present day ? Do we find the respected and vener- ated mother so carefully cherished, that she is permitted to sit in perfect peace, the pre- siding genius, as she ought to be, over every department of domestic comfort her cares lightened by participation with her affection- ate daughters, her mind relieved of its bur- dens by their watchful love, herself arrayed in the best attire, as a badge of her retirement from active duty, and smiling as the steps of time glide past her, because she knows that younger feet are walking in her own sweet ways of pleasantness and peace 1 Is this the picture presented in the present day by the far-famed homes of England] Do we not rather find the mother, the faith- ful and time-worn mother of the family, not only the moving spring of all domestic man- agement, but the actual working power, by which every household plan is carried into practical effect 1 I refer of course to cases where domestics are few, and pecuniary means not over abundant, where we see the mother hastening with anxious solicitude to 74 DOMESTIC HABITS OF answer every call from every member of the family ; as if her part in the duties of life was not only to have waited upon her children in infancy, but to conduct them to an easy and luxurious old age; in short, to spare their feet from walking, their hands from labor, and their heads from thought I know that it is mistaken kindness in the mother to allow herself thus to become a household drudge. I know also that young ladies are easily satisfied with what appears to them a reasonable excuse, that " mamma prefers doing all these tilings herself," that "she is such a dear kind soul, they would not rob her even of the merit of mending their own garments." But let me ask how often she prefers doing these things herself, simply because of their unwillingness to do them; and how their ungracious manner, when they have been asked to relieve her, has wounded her patient spirit, and rendered it less irksome to her to do the hardest man- ual labor, than to ask them again ? Let me remind them also, that there is a habit of doing things so awkwardly, that you will not be likely to be called upon for your services a second time ; and whether by accident or design, I will not presume to say, but some young ladies certainly appear to be great adepts in this method of performing their duties. It is a most painful spectacle in families where the mother is the drudge, to see the daughters elegantly dressed, reclining at their ease, with their drawing, their music, their fancy-work, and their light reading ; be- guiling themselves of the lapse of hours, days, and weeks, and never dreaming of their responsibilities ; but, as a necessary consequence of the neglect of duty, growing weary of their useless lives, laying hold of every newly invented stimulant to rouse their drooping energies, and blaming their fate when they dare not blame their God, for having placed them where they are. These individuals will often tell you with an air of affected compassion for who can believe it real ? that " poor dear mamma is working herself to death." Yet no sooner do you propose that they should assist her, than they declare she is quite in her element in short, that she would never be happy if she had only half as much to do. I have before observed, that it is not diffi- cult to ascertain, on entering a family, whether the female members of it are, or are not ac- tuated by habits of kindness and considera- tion ; and in no instance is it more easily detected than in the behavior of the daugh- ters to their mother. We have probably all seen elegant and accomplished young ladies doing the honors of the house to their guests, by spreading before them that lavish profu- sion of books and pictures, with which every table of every drawing-room is, in these mod- ern times, adorned. We have heard them expatiate with taste and enthusiasm upon the works of art, upon the beauties of foreign scenery, and the delights of travelling abroad ; while the mother is simultaneously engaged in superintending the management of the viands about to be spread before the com- pany, or in placing the last leaf of garniture around the dessert, upon which her daugh- ters have never condescended to bestow a thought It is easy, in these cases, to see by the anx- ious and perturbed appearance of the mistress of the house, when she does at last appear, that she has no assistance, but that which a very limited number of domestics could ren- der, behind the scenes ; that every variety of the repast which her guests are pressed to partake of, has cost her both trouble to invent and labor to prepare ; and we feel that we are regaling ourselves too much at her ex- pense. There is a painful contrast between the care and anxiety depicted on her brow, and the indifference the real or pretended igno- rance with which the young ladies speak, when it is absolutely necessary, of any of those culinary compositions which they re- gard as belonging exclusively to the depart- ment of mothers and servants. If by any possible mischance, the good woman alludes to the flavor of her compounds, wishing, purely for the sake of her guests, that she THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 75 had added a little more of the salt, or the cinnamon, indications of nausea, accompa- nied by symptoms of indignation and disgust, immediately manifest themselves among the young ladies, and they really wonder what mamma will be absurd enough to say next. It is in such families as this, that, not only on days of leisure, but on days when extra services are sure to be wanted in the home department, the daughters always find some pressing call upon their attention out of doors. They have their morning calls to make ; and there is that mysterious shopping to attend to, that never has an end. Indeed, one would almost think, from the frequency with which they resort to some of the most fashionable shops in town, that each of these young ladies had a peculiar taste for the mode of life prevailing in this particular sphere of exertion, were it not for the indignation she manifests at the remotest hint upon the duty of assisting her father in his. It is astonishing how duties out of doors accumulate upon persons who are glad of any excuse to escape from those at home. No one can deny the necessity they are un- der of pursuing that course of mental im- provement begun at school ; and there are lectures on every science to be attended, bor- rowed books to be returned, and little coter- ies of studious young people to join in their morning classes. It is also curious to observe that these young ladies who can with difficulty be in- duced to move about in their own homes, even to spare their mother's weary feet, who esteem it an act of oppression in her to send them to the highest apartment of the house, and of degradation in themselves to descend to the lowest, it is curious to observe how these regard themselves as under an abso- lute necessity to walk out every day for their health, and how they choose that precise time for walking when their mothers are most busy, and their domestic peace, by a natural consequence, most likely to be in- vaded. I would touch, with extreme delicacy, upon another branch of public occupation, because I believe it to be entered upon, in innumera- ble instances, with feelings which do honor to humanity, and to that religion, under whose influence alone, such avocations can be faithfully carried on. But I must confess, there appears to me some ground to fear, that the amusement of doing public good, the excitement it produces, and especially the exemption it purchases from domestic re- quirements, has something to do with the zeal evinced by some young females to be employed as instruments in the dissemination of religious knowledge, and the augmentation of funds appropriated to benevolent uses. Fearing, however, lest what might assume even the faintest coloring of uncharitableness, should fall from my pen on this delicate but most important subject, I will leave it with the individuals thus engaged, as fitter for their consideration, than for my remark. The world takes cognizance of their actions, and it is perhaps occasionally too lavish in its bestowment of their praises. But the world is a false friend, for it can applaud where there is little real merit, and condemn where there ought to be no blame. Let not the really faithful and sincere be hurt by these insinuations. Their cause is beyond the penetration of man, and their real springs of action are known, where alone they can be truly estimated, where alone they can meet with their just reward. How different from the feelings called forth by habits such as I have just described, are those with which we take up our abode in a family, where we know that the morning sun has risen upon daughters, who meet its early beams with the cheerful determination, that whatever may be the business of the day, their hands, and not their mother's, shall do the actual work ! Her experience, and her ever-guiding judgment, may direct their la- bors; but she who has so often toiled and watched for them, shall at least enjoy another opportunity of seeing how gladly and how richly they can repay the debt. The first thought that occupies their minds, is, how to guard her precious health. They meet her in the morning with affectionate solicitude, 76 DOMESTIC HABITS OF and look to see if her cheek has become less pale ; whether her smile is languid, or cheer- ful her step, weary or light. I must again repeat, that one of the surest tests of true disinterested love is this readi- ness to detect indisposition. Persons who are in the habit of cherishing antipathies, seldom believe in the minor ailments of those they dislike. These facts render it the more surprising, that daughters should not always see the symptoms of exhausted strength, which too frequently manifest themselves in industrious and care-taking mothers ; that they should not watch with the tenderest anxiety the slightest indication of their valu- able health being liable to decay. Yet so it is, that the mother of a family, who cares for every ailment in her household, is the last to be cared for herself, except in cases affording those beautiful exemplifications of filial duty to which allusion has just been made. With daughters who are sensible of the strong claims of a mother's love, no care can be too great, no solicitude too tender, to be- stow upon that beloved parent They know that if deprived of this friend of their infancy this guide of their erring feet the world will be comparatively poor to them : and as the miser guards his hoarded treasure, they guard the life, for which that world would be incapable of supplying a substitute. There are few subjects of contemplation more melancholy, than the waste of human love which the aspect of this world presents of deep, tender, untiring, disinterested love, bestowed in such a manner as U> meet no ade- quate return : and what must be the harvest gathered in, to a mother's faithful bosom, when she finds that she has reared up chil- dren who are too refined to share her humble cares, too learned and too clever to waste their talents on a sphere of thought and ac- tion like her own, and too much engaged in the pursuit of intellectual attainments, even to think of her ! Yet to whom do we look for consolation when the blight of sickness or sorrow falls upon our earthly peace, but to a mother! And who but a mother is invited to partake of our afflictions or our trials? If the stigma of worldly degradation falls upon us, we fly to a mother's love, for that mantle of charity which is denied elsewhere. With more hon- ored and distinguished associates, we may have smiled away the golden hours of life's young prime ; but the bitter tears of experi- ence are wept upon a mother's bosom. We keep for our summer friends the amusing story, the brilliant witticism, or the intellectual discourse ; but we tell to a mother's ear the tale of our distress, and the history of our wrongs. For all that belongs to the weak- ness and the wants of humanity, a mother's affection is sorely taxed ; why then should not daughters have the noble feeling to say before the world, and to let their actions speak the same language, " This is my earliest and my best friend V It is true, the mother may be far behind the daughter in the accomplishments of modern education ; she may, perhaps, occasionally betray her ignorance of polite literature, or her want of acquaintance with the customs of polished society. But how can this in any way affect the debt of obligation exist- ing between her daughter and herself? or how can it lessen the validity of her claim to gratitude for services received, and esteem for the faithfulness with which those services have been performed 1 Let us not believe of the young ladies of the present day that they can for any length- ened period, allow the march of mind to out- run the growth of their kindly feelings. Let us rather hope the time is coming when they will exhibit to the world that beautiful exem- plification of true dignity a high degree of intellectual culture rendered conducive to the happiness of those who claim their deepest gratitude, and their tenderest affection. The next view we propose to take of the domestic habits of the women of this favored country, is that of their behavior in the rela- tion between daughters and fathers. The affection existing between fathers and daughters, is a favorite theme with writers both of romance and reality ; and the familiar walks of life, we doubt not, are rich in in- THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 77 stances of this peculiar kind of affection ex- isting in a lovely, and most unquestionable form. Still there are points of view in which this subject, as illustrated by the customs of society in the present day, cannot be con- templated without pain. I have often had occasion to speak of the duties of women towards their fathers, broth- ers, husbands, and sons, when engaged in the active pursuits of trade ; and there is an anomaly presented by society of this class in England, which I am particularly anxious to point out to the rising generation. There are vast numbers of worthy and in- dustrious men, not only of the young and the middle-aged, but of those who are sinking into the vale of years, who spend almost the whole of their waking lives in scenes and occupations, from which almost every thing in the shape of enjoyment must necessarily be shut out In looking into the shops, the warehouses, the offices, and the counting-houses, of our commercial and manufacturing towns, we are struck with the destitution of comfort which everywhere prevails, and we ask, "Are these the abodes of free-born, indepen- dent men 7" I should be sorry to be weak enough to suppose that an honest and industrious man may not be just as happy when he treads on boards, as when he treads on Turkey carpets ; yet again, when we begin the early day with such individuals, and see what their occupa- tions actually are, from nine in the morning, often until late in the afternoon or evening, for weeks, and months, and years, with scarcely any respite or relaxation, we natu- rally ask how are the wives and daughters of these men employed 7 For surely if there be a necessity for the father of the family to be situated thus, the kinder and more disinter- ested members of his household must be dwelling in abodes even more uncongenial and revolting than these. It is but reasona- ble to expect that we should find them in apartments less luxurious in their furniture, with windows less pervious to the light of day, their persons perched upon harder stools, and altogether accommodated in an inferior manner. And this we are led to expect, simply because it is difficult to believe of generous-hearted women, that they would be willing to enjoy indulgences purchased at the sacrifice of the comfort of those they love, and by the degradation of those whom they look up to as their superiors. Perhaps we are told that to man it is no sacrifice to spend his life in these dungeon- like apartments, shut in from the pure air, and compelled to deal with the extreme mi- nutiae of what is neither interesting nor dig- nified in itself that he regards not these tri- fling inconveniences, that he is accustomed to them, and that they are what the world esteems as manly and befitting ; yet on being invited to pay our respects to the ladies of the family, we find ourselves transported into a scene so entirely different from that of his daily toil, that we are led to exclaim, " How opposite must be the tastes of men and wo- men in this sphere of life, in England !" A little more acquaintance with their domestic habits, however, enables us to discover that their tastes are not so different as their cir- cumstances, and that the cares, the anxieties, and the actual labor, which the man is under- going every day, are placing him on a very different footing, with regard to personal com- fort, from the females of his household. And how do the women strive to soothe these cares, to relieve these anxieties, and to lighten these labors 1 Do they not often make their own personal expenses extend to the extreme limit that his means will afford ] Do they not dress, and visit, receive visitors, and practise all those elegant accomplishments, which their father's exertions have been tax- ed to pay for. I know that the blame does not always rest with the female members of the family, but that men, especially when they first marry, are often pleased to behold their wives array- ed in the most costly habiliments which their means can procure : in addition to this, they believe that their interest in the world is ad- vanced by keeping up a certain degree of costly display, both in dress and furniture. DOMESTIC HABITS OF As time advances, however, and their spirits grow less buoyant under the pressure of ac- cumulated cares, especially if these cares have been unproductive of so golden a harvest as they had anticipated, and when daughters are growing up to double nay, to treble their mother's expenditure, by adding all the ima- gined essentials of modern refinement ; the fether then perceives, perhaps too late to re- trieve his ruined circumstances, the error into which he has been led ; and fain would he then, in the midst of his bitter regrets, per- suade his daughters to begin to think and act upon different principles from those which he has himself so thoughtlessly instilled. Perhaps the father is sinking into the vale of years, his spirit broken, and some of the growing infirmities of age stealing insidiously upon him. His manly figure begins to stoop, his eye grows dim, and he comes home weary from his daily labor. What a melancholy picture is presented by the image of such a man going forth in public, with his gaily and expensively dressed daughters fluttering by his side ! Nor is this all. Let us follow them home. He rises early, wearied and worn as he is, and, snatching a hasty breakfast before his daughters have come down, goes forth to his daily avocations, leaving them to their morn- ing calls, light reading, and fancy-work, until his return. At the close of the day, his step is again heard on the threshold. He has be- gun to feel that the walk is too much for him. Conveyances, in countless numbers, have passed him on his way, but these are not times for him to afford the luxury of riding, for a rival tradesman has just opened a tempt- ing establishment in the neighborhood of his own, and the evils of competition are destroy- ing half his gains. With a jaded look and feeble step, then, he enters his home. He wipes the gathering dew from his wrinkled forehead, sits down with a sigh almost amounting to a groan of despondency, and then looks round upon the well-furnished par- lor, where the ladies of his family spend their idle hours. We will not libel the daughters so far as to say, they are guilty of neglect in not inviting him to partake of his evening meal They may even press their kisses on his cheek, and express their welcome in the warmest terms. Supposing they have done all this, and that he is beginning to feel invigorated and re- freshed, perhaps revived a little in his spirit by this evidence of their affection, at length he smiles ; and that smile has been eagerly watched for, as the indication that his heart is warming into generosity. Now is the auspicious time : " Papa, dear, have you ever thought again of the silk cloaks you promised us, as soon as Mr. Moody's bill was paid 1 And Emma wants a velvet bon- net this winter. And papa, dear, where did you say we could get the best satin shoes 1" " My love," says the wife, in a graver, and more important tone, " These poor girls are sadly in want of drawing-paper indeed, of pencils, and of every thing belonging to their drawing ; for you know it is of no use having a master to teach 4hem, unless we provide them with the necessary materials. And Isa- bella's music I was positively ashamed to hear her play those old pieces again at Mrs. Melburn's last night" We have seen pictures of birds of prey hovering about their dying victim ; but I doubt whether a still more repulsive and mel- ancholy picture might not be made, of a man of business in the decline of b'fe, when he naturally asks for repose, spurred and goaded into fresh exertions, by the artificial wants and insatiable demands of his wife and daugh- ters. The root of the evil, I grant to be, not so much in the hard hearts of the individuals here described, as in the system of false re- finement which prevails in this country. But whatever the cause or the remedy may be, those will be happy days for England, when her noble-minded women, despite the preju- dices of early education, shall stand forth be- fore the world, and show that they dare be dutiful daughters rather than ladies of fash- ion ; and that the principles of integrity, gen- erosity, and natural feeling, have taught them never to wish for enjoyment purchased by THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 79 the sacrifice of a father's health, or a hus- band's peace. I know not whether it often occurs to the young, or only to those whose experience has been of longer duration, to make this obser- vation upon human nature that it is not in- tentional offence, or intentional injury, which always inflicts the severest pain. A mother who, by her ill-judged indulgence, fosters in her child a selfish and domineering temper, and thus renders such evil dispositions iden- tified with the very nature of that child, so that it is a stranger to any other principles of action, is as much hurt when, in after life, her child is selfish and domineering towards herself, as if he actually departed from his ac- customed line of conduct, for the purpose of being pointedly unkind to her. In the same way, the father who has brought up his fam- ily in habits of extravagance, when he feels the tide of prosperity turning against him, for- gets that those habits are necessarily stronger than his reasoning, and is wounded to the soul to think that his daughters are not more considerate. Upon the same principle of groundless expectation, we often see well- meaning but injudicious parents taking ex- treme pains to guard their children against one particular error in conduct, or one spe- cies of vice, yet neglecting to lay that only sure foundation of moral conduct which is to be found in religious principle ; and these, again, are shocked to find, as their children advance in life, that all their endeavors have been un- productive of the desired result. Nor must I, while pointing out errors in the behavior of children towards their parents, omit to ob- serve, that if parents would be more solicit- ous to instil into their minds the importance of relative and social duties faithfully per- formed, instead of captiously reproving them for every deviation from the strict line of these duties, they would find themselves more hap- py in their families, more tenderly watched over in sickness and sorrow more cherished and revered in the decline of life. Still, though the fault may, in some cases, have been originally with the parents, there is little excuse for daughters, who are of age to think and act for themselves. Habit, we know, is proverbially accounted second na- ture ; but we know also, that even our first nature is capable of being changed. He who has become subject to a painful and dangerous disease, through the neglect or mismanagement of those who had the care of him in early life, does not content himself with saying it was the maltreatment of his nurse that brought upon him this ca- lamity. If the disease admits of remedy if it even admits of alleviation he is as earn- est in seeking out and applying the proper means of relief, as if he had been the sole cause of his own affliction. And shall we confine our powers of reasoning rightly, and acting promptly, to the promotion of the ben- efit of the body, and leave the immortal mind to suffer for eternity, without applying such remedies as are provided for its use ? Whether the evil be in the original taint of our nature, or in the same nature inherent in another form, and operating upon us through the medium of injudicious treat- ment, we stand in precisely the same posi- tion with regard to moral responsibility, and accountability to the Searcher of all human hearts. It is right the tender sympathy of our friends should be excited, when we tell them that the faults for which they blame us were fostered and encouraged by the mistaken judgment of our parents in early life ; but there is a tribunal at which this plea will be of little avail, if, while the means of reforma- tion are yet within our reach, we suffer such habits to strengthen and establish themselves as part of our character ; and I would earn- estly recommend to the 'young women of England, that they should rouse themselves, and act upon the first conviction, that the advantages resulting from what is called a finished education, are but so many addition- al talents lent them, for employment in the service of that gracious Father, who has charged his children with the keeping of each other's happiness, and who, when he instituted the parental bond, and filled the mother's heart with love, and touched with DOMESTIC HABITS OF tenderness the father's firmer soul, was pleased to appoint them after-years of weak- ness, suffering, and infirmity, when their chil- dren would be able to enjoy the holy privilege of conducting their feeble steps in peace and safety towards the close of their earthly pil- grimage. CHAPTER X. DOMESTIC HABITS, CONSIDEKATION AND KIND- NESS. THAT branch of the subject upon which I am now entering being one of so much im- portance in the sum of human happiness as scarcely to admit of comparison with any other, it might be expected that I should es- pecially direct the attention of the reader to the duties of consideration and kindness in the married state, by entering into the minu- tiae of its especial requirements, and recom- mending them with all the earnestness of emphatic detail, to the serious consideration of the women of England. Happy indeed should I be to do this, did I not feel that, at the same time, I should be touching upon a theme too delicate for the handling of an or- dinary pen, and venturing beyond that veil which the sacredness of such a connection is calculated to draw over all that is ex- treme in the happiness or misery of human life. I shall therefore glance only upon those points which are most obvious to the eye of a third party ; and in doing this, it will be found, that many of the remarks I have made upon the behavior of daughters to their fathers, are equally applicable to that of wives towards their husbands. There is, however, this great difference the connec- tion existing between married people is al- most invariably a matter of choice. A daugh- ter may, sometimes, imagine herself excused, by supposing that her father is too uncon- genial in mind and character, for her to owe him much in the way of companionship. She may think his manners vulgar, and be- lieve that if she had a father who was a gen- tleman, she would be more attentive and considerate to him. But her husband cannot have married her without her own consent ; and therefore the engagement she has volun- tarily entered into, must be to fulfil the duties of a wife to him as he is, and not as she could have wished or imagined him to be. These considerations lead me to a view of the subject which I have often been com- pelled to take with deep regret, but which I fear no human pen, and still less mine, will be able to change : it is the false system of behavior kept up between those who are about to enter into the relation of marriage ; so that when they settle down upon the true basis of their own characters, and appear to each other what they actually are, the differ- ence is sometimes so great, as almost to justi- fy the inquiry whether the individual can re- ally be the same. I presume not to expatiate upon that pro- cess denominated courtship, as it is frequent- ly carried on by men. I venture not to ac- cuse them of injustice, in cherishing, in their early intercourse with the object of their choice, the very faults which they afterwards complain of in the wife. My chief solicitude is for my own sex, that they should not only be faithful after marriage, but upright and sincere before ; and that they should scorn to engage a lover, by little acts of considera- tion and kindness which they are not pre- pared to practise even more willingly to- wards the husband. I have known cases in which a kind- hearted woman would have esteemed her- self robbed of a privilege, if her lover had asked any other person than herself, so much as to mend his glove. Yet is it not possible for the same woman, two years after mar- riage, to say " My sister, or my cousin, will do that for you. I am too busy now." Nor is it the act alone, but the manner in which the act is done, that conveys a false impression of what will be the manner of that woman after marriage. I charge no one with intentional deception. The very ex THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 81 pression of the countenance is that of real and intense enjoyment, while the act of kind- ness is performed. All I regret is, that the same expressions of countenance should not always accompany the same performance in the wife. All women of acute sensibility must feel the loss of personal attractions, when time begins to tell upon their youthful charms. But, oh ! that they would learn by the warning of others, rather than by their own experience, that it is most frequently the want of this expression of cheerful, genuine, disinterested kindness, than the want of youthful beauty, that alienates their hus- bands' love, and makes them objects of in- difference, or worse. The cultivation of acquaintance before marriage, with a view to that connection taking place, for the most part goes but a very little way towards the knowledge of real character. The parties usually meet in the hey-day of inexperienced youth ; and while they exult in the unclouded sunshine of life, their mutual endeavors to please are rewarded by an equal willingness to be pleased. The woman, especially, is placed in a situation highly calculated to excite the greatest possible degree of complacency. She is treated by a being upon whom she depends, and he most probably her superior, as if she was incapable of error, and guiltless of a single fault. Perhaps she warns him of his mistake, speaks of her own defects, and as- sures him that she is not the angelic creature he supposes her to be ; but she does all this with so sweet a grace, and looks all the while so pleased to be contradicted, that her infor- mation goes for nothing ; and we are by no means assured that she is not better satsified it should be so. If, for instance, she really wishes him to know that her temper is naturally bad, why is she invariably so mild, and bland, and con- ciliating in his presence ] If she wishes him to believe that she has a mind not capable of entering fully into the interest of his favorite books, and the subjects of his favorite dis- course, why does she appear to listen so at- tentively when he reads, and ask so many questions calculated to draw him out into conversation ? If she wishes him to suppose that she is not always a lively and agreeable companion, why does she not occasionally assume the tone and manner so familiar to her family at home answer him shortly, hang down her head, and mope away the evening when he is near her 1 If she really wishes him to believe her, when she tells him that she is but ill-informed, and wanting in judgment; why, when he talks with her, does she take so much pains to express opin- ions generally believed to be correct, and especially such as coincide with his own] If she occasionally acts from caprice, and really wishes him to know that she does so, to the injury of the comfort of those around her ; why, whenever she practises in this way upon him, does she win him back again, and soothe his feelings with redoubled kind- ness, and additional solicitude to please ? Perhaps she will tell me she acts in this manner, because it would be unamiable and ungenerous to do otherwise. To which I answer, If it be unamiable and ungenerous to the lover, how much more so must it be to the husband 7 I find no fault with the sweet- ness, the irresistible charm of her behavior before marriage. It is no more than we ought to practise towards those whose hap- piness is bound up with ours. The falling off afterwards, is what I regard as so much to be deplored in the character of woman ; for wherever this is observed, it seems to indi- cate that her mind has been low enough to be influenced by a desire of establishing her- self in an eligible home, and escaping the stigma foolishly attached to the situation of an old maid. I have devoted an earlier chapter in this work to the consideration of dress and man- ners ; but I have omitted one of the most striking points of view in which these sub- jects can be regarded, the different charac- ters they sometimes assume before, and after, marriage. When a young lady dresses with a view to general approbation, she is studioualy so- licitous to observe, what she believes to be, 82 DOMESTIC HABITS OF the rules of good taste ; and more especially, if a gentleman, whose favorable opinion she values, evinces any decided symptoms of becoming her admirer. She then meets him with her hair arranged in the most becoming style; with the neat shoe, and pure-white gloves, which she has heard him commend in others; with the pale scarf, the quiet-color- ed robe, and with the general aspect of her costume accommodated to his taste. He can- not but observe this regard to his wishes, and he notes it down as a proof of amiable temperament, as well as sympathy of ha- bitual feeling. Auguring well for his future happiness with a woman, who even in mat- ters of such trifling moment is willing to make his wish her law, he prevails upon her at last to crown that happiness by the be- stowment of her hand. In the course of three years, we look in upon this couple in the home they are shar- ing together. We suppose the lady to be the same, yet cannot feel quite sure, her whole appearance is so changed. The hair that used to be so carefully braided, or so gracefully curled, is now allowed to wander in dishevelled tresses, or swept away from a brow, whose defects it was wont to cover. There is a forlornness in her whole appear- ance, as if she had not, as formerly, any worthy object for which to study these sec- ondary points of beauty ; and we inwardly exclaim, How the taste of her husband must have changed, to allow him to be pleased with what is so entirely the opposite of his original choice! On a second observation, however, we ask whether he actually is pleased, for there is nothing like satisfaction in the look with which he turns away from the unbecoming cap, the soiled kerchief, and the neglected aspect of the partner of his life. If married women, who allow themselves to fall into that state of moral degradation, which such an appearance indicates, feel pained at symptoms of estrangement in their husbands' affections, they must at least be satisfied to endure the consequences of their own want of consideration, without sympa- thy or commiseration. They ma}', perhaps, feel disposed to say their punishment is too severe for such a fault They love their husbands as faithfully as ever, and expected from them a love that would have been more faithful in return, than to be shaken by any change in mere personal appearance. But let me tell them, that the change which owes its existence to our own fault, has a totally different effect upon the feelings of a friend, from that which is the consequence of our misfortune ; and one of the most bitter and repulsive thoughts that can be made to rankle in a husband's bosom, is, that his wife should only have deemed it necessary to charm his eye, until she had obtained his hand ; and that, through the whole of his after life he must look in vain for the exercise of that kind consideration in consulting his tastes and wishes, that used to lend so sweet a charm to the season of youthful intercourse. It is a subject well calculated to inspire the most serious regret, that men should practise throughout the season of courtship, that sys- tem of indiscriminate flattery which lulls the better judgment of a woman into a belief that she must of necessity be delightful to him delightful, faults and all nay, what is infinitely worse than this, into a secret suspi- cion, that the faults which her female friends have been accustomed to point out, have no existence in reality, and that to one who knows and loves her better, she must appear in her naturally amiable and attractive char- acter. Could she be persuaded, on that import- ant day, when she is led home from the altar, adorned, attended upon, and almost worshipped could she be persuaded to cast one impartial glance into her own heart, she would see that the treasure she was bestow- ing, had many drawbacks from its value, and that all the happiness it was in her pow- er to confer, must necessarily, from the nature of that heart, be accompanied with some alloy. "Alas!" she would say, after this exami- nation, " he knows me not. Time will reveal to him my secretly cherished faults." And THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 63 when this conviction was confirmed through the days and years of her after life, she would esteem it but a small sacrifice of time and patience to endeavor to render herself personally attractive to him. Nay, so grate- ful would she feel for his charitable forgive- ness, that when the evil dispositions inherent in her nature were thrown into more glaring light, she would esteem it a privilege to be able by the simplest means to convince him, that, with all her faults, she was not so guilty of a disregard to his wishes, as to refuse in these minor points to conform her habits to his taste. Many of the remarks into which I have been led by a consideration of the subject of dress, are equally applicable to that of man- ner, as relates to its connection with social and domestic happiness before and after marriage. We are all aware that neither beauty, nor personal adornment, nor the most brilliant conversation, can be rendered altogether charming to any individual, with- out the accompaniment of a peculiar kind of manner, by which that individual is made to feel that he partakes in the pleasant thoughts and kind feelings of the party whose object it is to please. Women who possess the tact to know ex- actly how to give pleasure, are peculiarly skilled in those earnest looks, and cheerful smiles, and animated responses, which con- stitute more than half the charm of society. We sometimes see, in social evening circles, the countenance of an intelligent young lady lighted up with such a look of deep and glowing interest as to render her perfectly beautiful, during the time she is addressed by a distinguished friend, or even an attract- ive stranger. I will not say that the same expression is not always worn by the same individual at the domestic hearth, when she listens to the conversation of her husband. I will not so far libel my countrywomen, because I know that there are noble and admirable instances of women who are too diffident and too simple-hearted to study how to shine in public, who yet, from the intensity of their own feelings, the brilliance of their own powers of perception, and the deep delight of listening to the gentle tones of a beloved voice, when it speaks at once to their under- standing and their hearts, I know that such women do wear an aspect of almost spiritual beauty, and speak and act with an almost superhuman grace, when no eye beholds them but that which is most familiar, and which is destined to look upon the same path of life with theirs. After acknowledging these instances, I must suppose a case ; and for the sake of argument imagine what would be the feel- ings of a husband, who, in mixed society, should see his wife the centre of an anima- ted group pleased herself, and giving pleas- ure to all around her the expression of intense interest depicted on her countenance, and mingled with an apprehension so lively and vivid, as almost to amount to presenti- ment of every probable turn in the dis- course ; her eyes lighted up with animation, and her cheeks dimpled over with the play of sunny smiles what would be the feelings of a husband who should have marked all this, and when at his own fireside he felt the want of pleasant converse to beguile the winter's evening of its length, should be an- swered by that peculiar tone of voice, that depression of countenance, and that forbid- ding manner, which are more powerful in imposing silence than the most imperative command 7 In fact, there is a manner all-powerful in its influence upon domestic happiness, in which there seems to be imbodied a spirit of evil too subtile for detection, and too indefi- nite to be described by any name. It is not precisely a sullen manner, nor, in its strictest sense, a repulsive manner ; for the individu- al who adopts it may be perfectly civil all the while. It does not consist in pointed insult, or, indeed, in any thing pointed. It conveys no reproach, nor suffers the party upon whom it operates to suppose that re- dress is the thing desired. It invites no explanation, and makes no complaint. Its only visible characteristic is, that the eye is DOMESTIC HABITS OF never raised to gaze upon its object, but in- variably directed past it, as if that object had no ubiquity in short, had no existence, and was not required to have any. This is the manner I should describe as most expressive of natural antipathy without the energy of active dislike ; and yet this manner, as before stated, is so potent in its influence, that it seems to lay, as it were, an unseen axe at the root of all domestic confi- dence ; and difficult as it must necessarily be, for a woman to maintain this manner, there have been instances in which it has destroyed a husband's peace, without afford- ing him even the satisfaction of any definite cause of complaint There are degrees of the same manner practised every day in all classes of society, but never without a bane- ful effect, in poisoning our kindly feelings, and decreasing the sum of human happi- We are all too much disposed to put on what I would describe as company manners. Not only are our best dresses reserved for our visitors, but our best behavior too. I have often been struck with the bland smiles that have been put on in welcoming guests, and the appearance of extreme interest with which such guests have been listened to ; when, five minutes after their departure, the same subject, having been taken up by some unfortunate member of the family, no inter- est whatever has been elicited, no smile awakened, and scarcely so much as a pa- tient and respectful answer drawn forth. I have observed, also, with what forbearance the absurdities of a stranger have been en- dured : the twice-told tale, when begun again in company, has apparently been as fresh and entertaining as the first time it was heard. The folly of ignorance has then had no power to disgust, nor the impertinence of curiosity to offend. When I have marked all this, I have thought, If we could but carry away our company-smiles, to the home fireside, speak always in the gentle and persuasive tones made use of in the evening party, and move along the domestic walk with that suavity of manner which characterizes our intercourse with what is called society, how pleasant would those homes become to the friends who look for their hours of refreshment and relaxation there ; and how seldom should we have to complain of our companionship being neglected for that of more brilliant cir- cles and more interesting scenes ! In writing on the subject of consideration and kindness before and after marriage, I purposely confined my remarks to a very slight and superficial view of the subject. The world that lies beyond, I cannot regard as within the province of my pen I might almost say, within the province of any pen : for such is the difference in human character, and in the circumstances by which character is developed, that it would scarcely be possi- ble to speak definitely of a line of conduct by which the lives of any two married women could properly be regulated, because such conduct must bear strict reference to the habits and temperament of the husband, whose peculiarities of character would have to be taken into account I must therefore Be satisfied to recommend this wide and important field of contempla- tion to the serious attention and earnest soli- citude of my countrywomen ; reminding them, only, before we leave this subject, that if, in the first instance, they are induced by selfish feeling to consult their immediate interest or convenience, they are, in a secondary man- ner, undermining their own happiness by fail- ing t6 consult that of the being whose destiny is linked with theirs. What pen can describe the wretchedness of that woman, who finds herself doomed to live unloved ; and to whom can she look for confidence and affection, if shut out from the natural sources of enjoyment at home ? There is no loneliness there can be none in all the waste or peopled deserts of this world, bearing the slightest comparison with that of an unloved wife. She stands amidst her family like a living statue among the marble memorials of the dead instinct with life, yet paralyzed with death the burning tide of natural feeling circling round her THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 85 heart the thousand channels frozen, through which that feeling ought to flow. So pitiable, so utterly destitute of consola- tion is this state, to which many women have reduced themselves by mere carelessness of the common and familiar means of giving pleasure, that I must be pardoned for writing on this subject with more earnestness than the minuteness of its detail would seem to warrant. We may set off in life with high notions of loving, and of being loved, in exact proportion to meritorious desert, as exempli- fied in great and noble deeds. But on a closer and more experimental view of human life, we find that affection is more dependent upon the minutiae of every-day existence ; and that there is a greater sum of affection really lost by filtering away through the fail- ure of seeming trifles, than by the shock of great events. We are apt also to deceive ourselves with regard to the revival of affection after its de- cay. Much may be done to restore equanim- ity of mind, to obtain forgiveness, and to be reinstated in esteem; but I am inclined to think, that when once the bloom of love is gone when it has been brushed away by too rude or too careless a hand, it would be as vain to attempt to restore it, as to raise again the blighted flower, or give wings to the but- terfly which the storm had beaten down. How important is it, then, that women should guard, with the most scrupulous at- tention, this treasure of their hearts, this blessing of their homes ; and since we are so constituted, that trifles make the sum of hu- man happiness, that they should lose no op- portunity of turning these trifles to the best account ! Besides these considerations, there is one awful and alarming fact connected with this subject, which ought to be indelibly impress- ed upon our minds ; it is, that we have but a short time, it may be but a very short time, allowed us for promoting the comfort or the happiness of our fellow-creatures. Even if we ourselves are spared to reach the widest range of human existence, how few of those we love will number half that length of years ! Even the hand that is clasped in ours, the eyes that reflect the intelligence of our souls, and the heart that beats an echo to every pulse we feel, may be cold and motionless before to-morrow's sun has set ! Were the secrets of every human bosom laid open, I believe we should behold no darker passage in the page of experience, than that which has noted down our want of kindness and consideration to those who are gone before us to another world. When we realize the agonizing sensation of bending over the feeble frame of a beloved friend, when the mortal conflict is approach- ing, and the fluttering spirit is about to leave its earthly tenement ; and looking back upon a long, dark past, all blotted over with in- stances of our unkindness or neglect, and forward unto that little span of life, into which we would fain concentrate the deep affection, that, in spite of inconsistencies in our past conduct, has all the while been cherished in our hearts, with what impassioned earnest- ness would we arrest the pale messenger in his career, and stay the wings of time, and call upon the impatient spirit to return, to see, and feel, and understand our love ! Perhaps we have been negligent in formei seasons of bodily affliction ; have not listened patiently to the outpouring of natural feel- ing, and have held ourselves excused from attendance in the siek-chamber ; and there has gone forth that awful sentence, " It is the last time !" the last time we can offer the cordial draught, or smooth the restless pillow or bathe the feverish brow ! And now, though we would search all the treasures of the earth for healing medicine, and rob ourselves of sleep, and rest, and sustenance, to purchase for the sufferer one hour of quiet slumber, and pour out tears upon that aching brow, until its burning heat was quenched ; it is in vain, for the eye is glazed, the lips are paralyzed, the head begins to droop, and ex- piring nature tells us it is all loo late ! Perhaps we have not been sympathizing, kind, or tender, in those by-gone years of familiar confidence, when we were called upon to share the burdens of a weary bosom, H DOMESTIC HABITS OF whose inner feelings were revealed to us, and us alone. Yes, we can remember, in the sun- ny days of youth, and through the trials of maturer life, when the appeals of affection were answered with fretfulness or captious spleen, when estrangement followed, and we could not, if we had desired it, then draw back the love we had repulsed. And now we hear again that awful sentence "It is the last time !" the last time we can ever weep upon that bosom, or lay our hand upon that head, or press a fond, fond kiss upon those closing lips. Fain would we then throw open the floodgates of our hidden feeling, and pour forth words of more than tenderness. Alas ! the once wished-for tide would flow, like the rising surf around a shattered wreck too late! Perhaps we have been guilty of a deeper sin against our heavenly Father, and the hu- man family whose happiness he has in some measure committed to our trust And, oh ! let the young ask diligently of the more ex- perienced, how they can escape the aching consciousness that may pursue them to the grave, and only then commence the reality of its eternal torment the consciousness of having wasted all our influence, and neglect- ed all our means of assisting those who were associated with us by the closest ties, in pre- paring for another and a better world. Perhaps they once sought our society for the benefit of spiritual communion. Perhaps they would have consulted us in cases of moral difficulty, had we been more gracious and conciliating. Perhaps we have treated lightly the serious scruples they have laid be- fore us, or, what is still more probable, per- haps the whole tenor of our inconsistent lives has been the means of drawing them away from the altar, on which they saw such un- holy incense burning. And now, " it is the last time !" the last time we can ever speak to them of eternity, of the state of their trem- bling souls before the eye of a just and holy God, or raise their fainting hopes to the mercy still offered to their acceptance, through Him who is able to save to the uttermost Oh! for the trumpet of an archangel, to awake them from the increasing torpor of bodily and spiritual death ! Oh ! for a voice that would imbody, in one deep, awful, and tremendous word, all all for which our wasted life was insufficient! It is in vain that we would call upon the attributes of na- ture and of Deity to aid us. They are gone ! It was the final struggle ; and never more will that pale marble form be roused to life by words of hope or consolation. They are gone. The portals of eternity are closed It is too late ! Let it be a subject of grateful acknowledg- ment with the young, that to them this fear- ful sentence has not yet gone forth that op- portunity may still be offered them to redeem the time. They know not, however, how much of this time remains at their disposal ; and it might occasionally be some assistance to them in their duties, would they cultivate the habit of thinking, not only of their own death, but of the death of their companions. There are few subjects more calculated for solemn and affecting thought, than the fact that we can scarcely meet a blooming circle around a cheerful hearth, but one individual at least, in that circle, will be cherishing in her bosom the seeds of some fatal malady. It is recorded of the Egyptians, that among their ancient customs they endeavored to preserve the salutary remembrance that they were liable to death, by placing at their festal boards, a human skeleton ; so that while they feasted, and enjoyed the luxuries of this life, they should find it impossible to beguile themselves into a belief in its perpetual dura- tion. It is not necessary that we should resort to means so unnatural and repulsive ; though the end is still more desirable for us, who are trusting in a better hope, to keep in view. Neither is it necessary that the idea should be invested with melancholy, and associated with depression. It is but looking at the truth. And let us deceive ourselves as we may, the green church-yard with its freshly covered graves the passing-bell the slowly- moving hearse the shutters closed upon the apartment where the sound of merriment THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 87 was lately heard the visitations of disease within our homes even the hectic flush of beauty all remind us that the portion of time allotted for the exercise of kindly feeling to- wards our fellow-creatures, is fleeting fast away ; and that to-day, if ever, we must prove to the great Shepherd of the Chris- tian fold, that we are not regardless of that memorable injunction By this shall all men know that ye are my disciples, If ye have love one to another. CHAPTER XI. SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF THE WOMEN OF ENG- LAND CAPRICE AFFECTATION LOVE OF AD- MIRATION. THE higher admiration we bestow upon the nature and attributes of any subject of contemplation, the more painful and acute is our perception of its defects. And thus when we think of woman in her most eleva- ted character, consider the extent of her ca- pabilities, and her wonderful and almost un- failing power of being great on great occa- sions, we are the more disposed to regret that she has a power equally unlimited, of making herself little ; and that, when indo- lence or selfishness is allowed to prevail over her better feelings, this power is often exer- cised to the annoyance of society, and to her own disgrace. Those who understand the construction of woman's mind, however, will find some excuse for this, in the natural versatility of her mental faculties, in the multiplicity of her floating ideas, in the play of her fancy, and in the constant overflow of her feelings, which must expend themselves upon some object, either worthy or unworthy ; and which consequently demand the utmost at- tention to what is really important, in order that this waste of energy, of feeling, and emotion, may be avoided. The word caprice, in its familiar accepta- tion, is one of very indefinite signification. I shall endeavor to confine my use of it to those cases in which the whim of the mo- ment is made the rule of action, without any reference to right reason, or even to the gratification or annoyance of others ; and I shall endeavor to show, that with regard to this feminine fault, as well as many others, women are not fairly dealt with by society. How often do WG see, for instance, a beau- tiful and fascinating girl expressing the most absurd antipathies, or sympathies, and acting in the most self-willed and irrational manner ; in short, performing a part, which, in a plain woman, would be regarded not only as repul- sive, but unamiable in the utmost degree! yet because she is beautiful, l|er admirers ap- pear to think all these little freaks of fancy highly becoming, and captivating in the ex- treme. If she chooses to find fault with what all the rest of the company are admir- ing how delightfully peculiar are her tastes ! If she will walk out when others are not dis- posed for walking what obsequious attend- ants she immediately finds, all ready to say the evening is fine, the air inviting, and the general aspect of nature exactly what she chooses it should be ! If she persists in re- fusing to play a favorite air what a dear ca- pricious creature she always is ! and in this, as well as other whims, she must be humor- ed to the extent of her selfishness. I will not pretend to say that beauty alone can command this influence, though it un- questionably has a power beyond all calcula- tion. The being who thus assumes the right to tyrannize, must have obtained the suffrages of society by the exercise of some particular powers of fascination, which she wants the judgment and good feeling to use for better purposes. We have seen her, then, a sort of idol in society, the centre of an admiring circle, en- dowed with the royal privilege of incapability of doing wrong. We have seen her admired, apparently beloved ; and we turn to the little coteries of dissentients who are sure to be formed in all companies where a being of this description is found. Among these we find that her character is treated, not with justice, SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF though that had been enough, but with the sharp inspection of keen and envious eyes ; and we are soon convinced, that if in public she is raised to the distinction of an idol, she is in private most unscrupulously deprived of the honors she was but too willing to assume. I speak not of this instance, in order to bring forward the want of charity and kindly feeling prevailing in the world. I simply state that such things are, in order to show that the deference paid to the caprices of women by a few partial admirers, is no real test of the favor they obtain in general so- ciety. And if, in such instances where youth and beauty cast their lovely mantle over every defect, woman's faults are still brought to light, what must be her situation what her treatment by the world, where she has nothing of this kind to palliate her weakness, or recommend her to the charity and forbear- ance of her fellow-creatures 7 Caprice, like many other feminine faults, appears almost too trifling in its minutiae too insignificant in its detail, to deserve our serious condemnation ; yet, if caprice has the power to make enemies, and to destroy happiness, it ought not to be regarded as un- important in itself. With regard to many other subjects of consideration connected with the virtues or the errors of woman, we have had to observe, that each individual act may be almost beneath our notice in itself, and yet may form a part of such a whole, as the utmost capabilities of human intellect would be unable to treat with justice and ef- fect The case is precisely the same with femi- nine caprice. It is but a slight deviation either from sense or propriety, to choose to differ from the majority of opinions, to choose to do, and to make others do, what is not agreeable to them, or to refuse to do wliat would give them pleasure. But, when this mode of conduct becomes habitual, when beauty fades, and the idol of society is cast into the shade, when disappointment irritates the temper, and " sickness rends the brow," and grief sits heavily upon the soul in these seasons of nature's weakness, when woman's trembling heart is apt to sink within her, to what loneliness and bitterness of experience must she be consigned, if her own indulgence of caprice has driven from her all the friends who might have administered to her conso- lation in this hour of need ! This view of the subject, however, she is certainly at liberty to take, and counting the cost, to indulge her momentary wishes at the expense of her future peace. The question of most serious importance, is, how far we are justified in trifling with the happiness, the comfort, or even the convenience of others, for the sake of indulging our own caprices ? I have before stated, that in acting from caprice, we act without reference to common sense, or right feeling. If, therefore, a wo- man chooses to be capricious, there is no help for it Argument has no power to convince her that she is wrong, and opposition only strengthens her determination : no matter how many are made to suffer annoyance from her folly, or grief from her perverse- ness. It is her choice to be capricious, and they must abide by the consequences. Thus she exemplifies it may be said in actions extremely minute and unimportant but still she does exemplify, how much mischief may be done by a weak judgment, a selfish tem- per, and an unenlightened mind. The domestic habits and social intercourse of the women of England, are peculiarly favorable to the counteraction of the natural tendency to caprice in the female character, because they afford a supply of constant oc- cupation, and invest that occupation with the dignity of moral duty. When, therefore, we find individuals acting from caprice, in the middle classes of English society, we know that it exists in spite of circumstances; and we consequently regard with proportion- ate condemnation, those who are so far defi- cient in good taste and good feeling, as to prefer such a mode of exhibiting their follies to the world. It might require some degree of philoso- phical examination, accurately to define the nature and origin of caprice ; yet so far as I have been able to ascertain by observations THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 89 upon society in general, I should be inclined to describe it as arising from the same cause as affectation ; and both to owe their exist- ence to a desire to attract attention, or a belief that attention is attracted by what is said or done. Caprice refers more to a weak and vain desire to be important ; affectation, to a desire to make ourselves admired. Both are contemptible in the extreme. Yet one is so powerful in provoking the temper, the other in exciting ridicule and disgust, that both are worthy of our careful examination, in order that we may detect the lurking evil wherever it exists in our own conduct. Affectation is in practice a species of mi- nute deception ; in effect, ap alpable mockery of that which is assumed. I am aware that it is often the accompaniment of extreme bashfulness and diffidence of self; but this is seldom or never the case, except where there is a secret, yet strong desire, if it were possible, to be the object of admiration to others. Along with affectation, there is gen- erally a prevailing impression of being the object upon which all, or at least many, eyes are fixed. For who would be at the trouble of all those distortions of countenance, in- flexions of voice, and manceuvrings of body and limb, which we often observe in compa- ny, did they not believe themselves to be " The observed of all observers ?" If by thinking too meanly of ourselves, we are overwhelmed with humiliation in public, and tormented with dissatisfaction in private, it is clear that there is as much vanity and selfishness in this depreciation of our own character, as in the more exalted and com- fortable inflation of conceit. The only differ- ence is, in one case we are piqued and wounded that we cannot be admired ; in the other, we believe ourselves to be admired when we are not. The suffering produced by this kind of vanity, is generally accompanied both with affectation and bashfulness ; but we must not suppose, because a blush suffuses the countenance, and the outstretched hand is seen to tremble, that the individual who is guilty of this breach of fashionable indiffer- ence, is necessarily free from vanity, or guilt- less of a desire to be admired. Those who have travelled much, and seen much of the world, are generally cured both of bashfulness and affectation, by one of these two causes, either they have been so often in company without making any impression, that they have learned of how little import- ance it is to society in what manner they be- have, or how they look ; or they have learn- ed a still more useful lesson, that the admira- tion of man, even in its fullest sense, goes but a little way towards satisfying the heart. The affectation most frequently detected in the behavior of women, is that which arises from an inordinate desire of being agreeable. A certain degree of this desire is, unquestionably, of great service in preserving them from the moral degradation which I have before alluded to, as attaching to per- sonal neglect as indicating a low state of mind wherever it exists, and procuring a low degree of estimation for the individual who thus allows her negligence to gain the ascen- dancy over her good taste. On the other hand, what may with pro- priety be called an inordinate desire to be admired, when it takes the place of higher motives and principles of action, is, perhaps, a more fertile source both of folly and of suf- fering than any other which operates upon the life and conduct of woman. As exhibit ed through the single medium of affectation, it is so varied in its character, and so un- bounded in its sphere of operation, that to attempt to describe it in detail would require volumes, rather than pages ; I shall therefore confine my remarks to that species of affecta tion which is the most prevalent in the pres- ent day. As the peculiar kind of merit assumed by the hypocrite is, in some measure, a test ol what is most popular and most approved in society, so the prevailing affectation of the day is an indication of the taste of the times of the general tone of public feeling, and of the tendency of private habits. That which most recommends itself to the accept- 90 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OP .ance and adoption of the young ladies of the present day, is an affectation of refine- ment not refinement of feeling as relates to the means possessed by every human being, of increasing pleasure and alleviating pain, in the circle of friends or relatives by which they are surrounded ; but refinement of self, so that the individual who has attained to this degree of elevation shall be exempt from all personal obligations, particularly such as would render her instrumental in the perform- ance of social and domestic services among her fellow-creatures. Women who affect this kind of refinement, are extremely fas- tidious in all that relates to manual employ- ment They cannot touch the coarse material that supplies our bodily wants, or constitutes our personal comfort. They loathe the very mention of those culinary compounds, which, nevertheless, their .fair lips condescend to admit ; and they shrink with horror from the vulgar notion that the old grandmother-du- ties of preparing a clean hearth, and a com- fortable fireside, for a husband or a brother, could by any possibility devolve upon them. For this kind of affectation, however, there is some excuse in our natural indolence ; and in the exemption it procures from personal exertion ; but when we see the absolute pains which some of the same individuals will take to make themselves appear dependent, use- less, and wholly inadequate to self-preserva- tion, we are startled with a new idea, and entirely at a loss to account for this pheno- menon in human nature. It is with difficulty I admit the belief that women are in reality the victims of all those foolish fears with which they profess to be annoyed, and with which they unquestion- ably are very successful in annoying others. , It is with difficulty I admit this belief, because I see, and see with admiration, that some of the most delicate women, the most sensitively alive to impression, and the most susceptible both of pleasure and pain, can, when called upon by duty, and actuated by principle, set all these idle fears aside, and dare to do what man would almost shrink from. I cannot, therefore, divest myself of all suspicion, that a little of this feminine timidity is sometimes assumed, and a great deal of it encouraged, for the sake of effect for the sake of making it appear to society that the individual who acts this part is too refined to have ever been accustomed to the rough usages of common life. I say this with all charity, and with much compassion for those whose bodily and men- tal conformation does really render them the victims of causeless fear ; and when we see such persons endeavoring to subdue their timidity, ashamed of it a? a weakness, and especially solicitous for it not to interfere with the comfort or convenience of others, they justly claim, not only our sympathy, but our admiration. It is the display of terror that I would speak of in terms which can scarcely be too contemptuous ; the becoming start, the modulated shriek, the studied appeal for manly protection, and all that elaboration of feminine delicacy which it sometimes ap- pears to be the business of a life to exhibit. Besides this kind of affectation, I will men- tion another species, if possible, still more unnaccountable in its nature and cause. It is the affectation of ignorance respecting common things. It is by no means unusual with young ladies to appear to plume them- selves upon not knowing how any familiar or ordinary thing is made or done. They refuse to understand any thing about machi- nery, and bring into their conversation what they seem to regard as the most entertaining blunders, whenever conversation turns upon the occupations of the laboring classes. The same individuals seldom know the way to any place, are incapable of discovering whether their faces are turned to the north or the south ; and if you ask them, with any idea of receiving an answer, from what quarter the wind is blowing, you might as well ex- pect them to tell you whether the tide is at that moment rising in Nootka Sound. If any of these confessions of ignorance, when forced upon them, were attended with embarrassment or shame, they would claim our sisterly compassion ; and sorry should I be to make their blushes the subject of public THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND 91 remark. But when we find this ignorance persisted in, made conspicuous on every pos- sible occasion, and attended with " Nods, and becks, and wreathed smiles," as if it were sure to meet with a favorable reception in society, we cannot withhold the exclamation of our patriot poet, that from our souls we "loathe all affectation." It is evident that this helplessness, and this ignorance, where they are assumed, must be so for the purpose of attracting attention, claiming assistance, it may be, from the other sex, and establishing an unquestionable claim to refinement, by giving forth to society an idea of habits of exclusion from all vulgar or degrading association. It is difficult to imagine a mode of life, or a combination of circumstances, less advan- tageous to the cultivation of such false no- tions of refinement, than those which are presented by the real situation of the women of England ; and it is impossible not to look, with gloomy anticipations for the future wel- fare of our country, upon the increasing prevalence of these erroneous ideas of what is really excellent and admirable in the female character. The view we have taken of the subjects at present under consideration, naturally leads us to that great root of more than half the folly and the misery existing among women the love of admiration. The extreme case of a woman totally in- different to the good opinion of her fellow- creatures, would fail to recommend itself to our regard, inasmuch as it would argue a deficiency in her nature, of those feelings which have been given her as a means of happiness to herself and benefit to others. She would stand amid her fellow-creatures a lonely and isolated being, living and acting without reference to the existence of any other being ; and if she escaped the thousand disappointments of those who act from oppo- site motives, she would be equally exempt from any claim upon their affection. Such individuals, however, are so rare, that the consideration of their peculiarities would be a fruitless waste of time and thought. It is to the opposite extreme of character that our attention must now be given. And here I would request the reader to bear in mind, that my remarks refer strictly to the love of admiration, not to the love of approbation, which I take to be a natural and lawful stim- ulus to all that is excellent in female conduct. When we look upon human life with " crit- ical inspection," we find that a vast propor- tion of the apparent motives acted upon before the world, are not the real motives by which the individual actors are influenced; and that this system of deception is often carried on unconsciously to them, because they are themselves betrayed by the deceitfulness of their own hearts. In no instance is this more strikingly the case than in our love of admi- ration. To gratify this desire, what suffering are we not willing to endure, what pains do we not take, what patience can we not exer- cise ! and all under the most plausible pre- tences pretences that impose upon others less effectually than ourselves, that we are acting upon higher and more praiseworthy principles. There is this difference, however, to be observed between acting from worthy and unworthy motives : when our endeavors are unsuccessful and our motives correct, we seldom give way to the fretfulness of disap- pointment ; but when our endeavors are in- effectual, and we look back into our own hearts, and find them unsupported by any laudable object, our fretfulness is often exas- perated into bitterness and spleen. Observation and experience have taught me to believe, that many of the secret sor- rows of woman's life owe half their poign- ancy to the disappointment of not being able to obtain the degree of admiration which has been studiously sought. A popular and ele- gant writer has said "How often do the wounds of our vanity form the secret of our pathos !" And to the situation, and the feel- ings of woman, this observation is more espe- cially applicable. Still there is much to be said for woman in this respect. By the na- ture of her own feelings, as well as by the established rules of polished life, she is thrown, 92 SOCIAL INTERCOURSE OF as it were, upon the good-will of society. Un- able to assert her own claims to protection, she must endeavor to ensure it by secondary means, and she knows that the protection of man is best ensured by recommending her- self to his admiration. Not is this all. There is but a faint line of demarkation between admiration and love. Though essentially different in their nature, and not always called forth by the same indi- vidual, their outward aspect is still so much alike, and there is so frequent a transition made from the one to the other, that it re- quires more able reasoning than the general- ity of women are capable of, to know exactly when they are exciting admiration, and when they are inspiring love. There is, however, one infallible test by which the case may be decided, and I cannot .too earnestly recom- mend to my countrywomen to apply it to themselves. If they are admired without being beloved, they may possibly be favorites in company abroad, but they will be no favor- ites at home they may obtain the good- will of a mere acquaintance, but they will be solitary and neglected at their own fireside. If they are cultivating such habits as are calculated to make them really beloved, espe- cially at home, they may retire from company in which they have been wholly overlooked, to find the warmest welcome of the domestic circle awaiting their return they may not be able to create any perceptible sensation when they appear in public, but every familiar countenance around their social hearth will be lighted up with smiles when they appear. With regard to the love of admiration, it is much to be regretted that all women who make this one of the chief objects of their lives, do not at the same time evince an equal solicitude to be admired for what is really praiseworthy. Were this the case, they would at least be employed in cultiva- ting useful habits ; and as the student who aims at obtaining a prize, even if he fails in that direct object, has obtained what is more desirable, in the power of application which he has made himself master of; so the wo- man who aims at moral excellence, if the taste of society is too vitiated to receive with admiration the first inpression her character is calculated to make, has yet acquired such habits as will prove an inestimable treasure throughout the whole of her after life. We do not, however, see that this is the case so much as might be desired in modern society. There is an appearance among the women of the present day, of being too eager for an immediate tribute of admiration, to wait for the development of moral worth; and thus they cultivate those more shining accomplishments, which dazzle and delight for the moment, but leave no materials for agreeable reflection behind. Like the con- ductor of an exhibition of fireworks, they play off their splendid combinations of light and color ; but the magazine is soon expend- ed, and the scene closes with weariness, and vacuity, and the darkness of night What a waste of time, and means, and application, for such a result ! What an ex- penditure of thought and feeling, to have produced this momentary display ! Surely no philanthropist can behold unmoved the pitiful objects for which women, who court the incense of admiration, are spending their lives. Surely none of the patriot sons of Britain can look on, and see with indiffer- ence the sisters, the wives, the mothers, of our English homes, perpetually employed, even in a world of care and suffering, of anxiety and disappointment, in administering to the momentary gratification of the eye and the ear, while the heart is left unsatisfied, and the drooping soul uncheered. The desire of being beloved is an ambition of a far more amiable and praiseworthy char- acter. But who shall record the endless va- riety of suffering it entails upon woman ? I will not believe of my sex, that it is the love of admiration only, which gives birth to all those rivalries and mortifications that envy, and spleen, and bitterness, which mar the fe- licity of female companionship. It must be some deeper feeling ; and I at least will give them credit for being wounded in a tenderer point than their vanity, before they can so far do violence to their gentler nature, as to THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. revenge upon each other the slights and the humiliations they receive. Yes : it is to human calculation the most pardonable, and yet it is the most soul-be- setting sin of woman, to be perpetually in- vesting earthly objects with an interest too intense for her own happiness ; and asking of some oracle she has herself established, for an answer to the language of her own heart. Let her seek as she may, the admi- ration and applause of the world, it never satisfies the craving of her soul. She must have something to come home to a shelter even in the brightest sunshine a bower in the fairest garden a shrine within the rich- est temple. She cannot mingle with the stream of life, and float securely on, as one among the many. She will not even be ex- alted in solitary distinction. The world has no wealth to offer, that she would possess alone. This is the true nature of woman ; and the home she seeks is in the hearts of those who are bound to her by affection. She knows that her place in this home is not to be maintained without unceasing care ; and hence the solicitude she bestows upon things of trifling moment. She knows also that in some instances she is liable to be supplanted ; she feels, perhaps, that she is not worthy to monopolize so honorable a place ; and hence her watchfulness and jealousy. It may be that she is " discarded thence," for human love is sometimes treacherous ; and hence her wounded spirit, and the occasional out- pouring of natural feeling, by which she brings upon herself the odium of bitterness and revenge. Thus the darkest faults of woman may often be traced back to those peculiarities of her nature, which, under favoring circum- stances, and with the Divine blessing, may constitute her highest recommendation, and surest source of happiness. How important is it, then, since to woman it is essential to be loved, that she should not expect to reap where she has never sown, and thus incur the most painful disappointment to which her suffering nature is liable ! With regard to the anxiety to be admired, then, I would propose that approve should be substituted for admire, and just so far as wo- men seek the approval of their friends, under the guidance of religious truth, there is every reason to believe they will reap an abundant reward. With regard to the desire to be beloved, I can only repeat, that the women of England are peculiarly blessed in the means they possess of rendering themselves estimable in society ; and the opportunities they enjoy of cultivating the kindest and hap- piest feelings of our nature. They have the homes of England in their keeping ; and the hearts within those homes must necessarily be attracted or repelled by the light or the shade which their presence diffuses around them. They cannot complain that circum- stances are against them in the attainment of moral worth. All the natural characteris- tics of their native country are in their favor. The happiness of the whole human family, and especially of man, supplies them with a never-failing motive. Nature and religion are both on their side the one to prompt, the other to lure them on. They have the gratitude of their fellow-creatures awaiting their endeavors and what is more, they have the gracious approval of their heavenly Father, as their encouragement and reward. CHAPTER XII. PUBLIC OPINION PECUNIARY RESOURCES IN- TEGRITY. THE respect paid by women to public opinion, and to the conventional rules of society, might have been considered with some propriety under the head of love of admiration, did not the immediate connection of this subject with that of integrity, render it more suited to the present chapter. To use a popular Germanism, it is but a one-sided view of the subject that we take, when we suppose that the hope of being ad- mired is the strongest stimulus to the female GENERAL HABITS OF character in all cases where her conduct is referred to public opinion. The dread of be- ing censured or condemned, exercises, I am inclined to think, a far more extensive influ- ence over her habits and her feelings. Any deviation from the fashionable mode of dress, or from the established usages of polished life, present an appalling difficulty to a wo- man of ordinary mind, brought up under the tutelage of what is called the world. She cannot positively cannot dare not will not do any thing that the world has pro- nounced unladylike. Nor, while she lives in the world, and mixes in polished society, is it at all desirable that she should deviate from such universally acknowledged rules, except where absolute duty leads her into a different line of conduct I should be the last person to advise a woman to risk the consequences of such deviations, simply for the sake of being singular; because, I regard the as- sumption of singularity for its own sake, as one of the most absurd of all the varied spe- cimens of affectation which human life affords. To choose to be singular without a suffi- cient reason, and to dare to be so in a noble cause, are so widely different, that I desire to be clearly understood in the remarks I am about to make, as referring strictly to those cases in which duty renders it necessary for women to deviate from the fashions and established customs of the time or place in which they live. While the tide of prosperity bears us smoothly on, and our means are ample, and our luxuries abundant, we suffer little inconvenience from the tyranny of the world in these respects. Indeed, it is rather an agreeable amusement to many ladies to con- sult the fashions of the day, and to be among the first to change their mode of dress to order costly furniture, and to receive com- pany in the most approved and lady-like style. But as I have before observed, of the class of persons to which this work chiefly relates, the tide of prosperity is apt to ebb, as well as to flow ; and as it recedes from us the whole aspect of the world is not only changed to us, but the aspect of our conduct is changed to the world ; so that, what it approved in us before, and honored with its countenance, is now the subject of its extreme and bitter condemnation. It ia then that we discover, we have been serving a hard master ; but unfortunately for thousands of human beings, the discovery brings with it no freedom from that service. We loathe the cruel bondage ; but habit is too strong for conviction, and we continue to wear the galling chain. It is, then, in cases of adverse fortune, that we see the incalcu- lable benefit of having made the moral duties of social and domestic life the rule of our conduct, and of having regarded all outward embellishments as things of very subordinate importance. It is a case of by no means rare occurrence, that the young women of England return home from school more learned in the modes of dress, and habits of conduct prevailing among the fashionable and the wealthy, than in any of those systems of intellectual culture in which they have been instructed. Or, if their knowledge has not extended to what is done in fashionable life, they have at least learned to despise what is done among the vulgar and the poor, to look upon certain kinds of dress as impossible to be worn, and to regard with supreme contempt every indication of the ab- sence of fashionable manners. So far as their means of information could be made to ex- tend, they have laid down, for the guidance of their future lives, the exact rules by which the outward conduct of a lady ought to be regulated, and by these rules they determine to abide. If this determination was applied exclusive- ly to what is delicate, refined, and lovely in the female character, they would unquestion- ably be preparing themselves for being both esteemed and beloved ; but unfortunately for them, their attention is too often directed to the mode of dress worn by persons much higher than themselves in worldly prosperity, and to all the minutiae of look and manner, which they regard as indications of easy cir- cumstances and exemption from vulgar oc- cupation. THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 95 Nor is the school itself, or the mode of treatment there, to be regarded as the source of these ideas and conclusions. The customs of modern society and the taste of modern times are solely in fault And wherever young ladies are congregated together with the same means of communication as at school, the same results must follow, until the public taste undergoes a material change, or until the women of England have become learned in a higher school of wisdom. With the preparation here alluded to, our young women enter upon social life ; and as years roll on, the habits thus acquired of mak- ing custom and fashion the rule of their lives, strengthen with the establishment of their character, and become as parts of their very being. What then is the consequence of such habits in the day of their adversity, when the diminution of their pecuniary means leaves them no longer the power of conforming to the world they have so loved ] The conse- quence is, that along with many real priva- tions, their ideal sufferings are increased a hundred-fold by the fact that they must dress and live in a manner different from what they have been accustomed to in short, that they must lose caste. How little has the mere circumstance of relinquishing our luxuries to do with the dis- tress attendant upon the loss of worldly sub- stance ! We find every day that persons trav- elling expressly for enjoyment, joining in so- cial excursions and even seeking the invigo- ration of their health, and the refreshment of their spirits, from the sea-breezes, or in places of customary resort for the summer months, voluntarily resign more than half their habit- ual indulgences, and subject themselves, with- out a murmur, to the occupation of apart- ments which they would scarcely think possi- ble to be endured for a single day in their native town ; and all the while they are per- haps more happy and more cheerful than in their elegant drawing-rooms at home. It is evident, then, that it cannot be their individual share in the gratification of artifi- cial wants, which they find it so heart-break- ing to resign. It must be that a certain num- ber of polite and refined individuals having combined to attach a high degree of impor- tance to the means of procuring the luxuries of life, all who belong to this class, when com- pelled to exhibit in public a manifest destitu- tion of such means, regard themselves, and expect to be regarded by others, as having become degraded in the sight of their fellow, creatures, and no longer entitled to their fa- vor or regard. It is of no use asserting that we all know bet- ter than to come to this conclusion that man- kind are not so weak, or so unjust that we appreciate the moral worth of an individual beyond the luxuries of his table, or the costli- ness of his dress. It is easy to say this ; but it is not so easy to believe it, because the prac- tical proof of experience is against it If, for instance, we cared for none of these things, why should the aspect of human life present such a waste of time, and health, and patience, and mental power, and domestic peace, in the pursuit of wealth, when that wealth is expend- ed, as soon as gained, in maintaining an ap- pearance of elegance and luxury before the world ? I am not prepared to argue about the ben- efits resulting from the encouragement of ar- tificial wants, and the increase of luxuries, on the broad scale of national prosperity. There are pens more able and more fit for such a purpose. My narrower views are confined to the individual evils resulting from an over- strained ambition to keep pace with our wealthier associates in our general habits; and I would write with earnestness on this subject, because I believe that in England, at the present time, these evils are of rapidly in- creasing extent It may seem unimportant to those who have no experience in these affairs, to speak of the private and domestic disputes arising out of artificial wants, on one side, and in- ability to provide the demanded supply for them, on the other. Yet what family, in mod- erate circumstances, has not some record of scenes, alike humiliating to human nature, and destructive to human happiness, in which the ill-judged request, or the harsh denial 96 GENERAL HABITS OF the importunate appeal, or the agonizing re- ply the fretful remonstrance, or the bitter re- tort, have not at seasons cast a shade over the domestic hearth, and destroyed the peace of the circle gathered around the social board. It may appear still more like trifling, to speak of the sensations, with which a member of a fallen family regards her dilapidated ward- robe, and looks, and looks in vain for a gar- ment sufficiently respectable to make her ap- pearance in before a rich relation. Perhaps she has but one a call has to be made upon a person of distinction, and as she proceeds on her way, eyeing with watchful anxiety ev- ery speck and spray that would be likely to reduce her garment below the average of re- spectability, a storm overtakes her. There are carriages for all who can afford to pay for them, but none for her : and the agony of losing her last claim to gentility takes posses- sion of her soul. The reader may possibly smile at the ab- surdity of this case. A half-clad savage from some barbarous island, would probably smile, could he be made to understand it But nothing can be further from exciting a smile than the real sensations it occasions. Noth- ing can be further from a smile, than the look with which a failing tradesman regards the forlorn condition of his hat, when he dares not brush it, lest he should render its destitu- tion more apparent Nothing can be further from a smile, than the glance he casts upon his threadbare coat, when he knows of no pos- sible resource in art or nature that can sup- ply him with a new one. And nothing can be further from a smile, than the cold wel- come we give to a guest who presents him- self unexpectedly, and must, perforce, look in upon the scantiness of our half-furnished table. It is easy to class these sources of disquie- tude under the head of absurdities, and to call them unworthy of rational beings ; but I do believe, there is more real misery existing in the world at the present time, from causes like these, than from all those publicly aknow- ledged calamities which are more uniformly attributed to the dispensations of Providence. I do not mean that these miseries arise di- rectly from, or are by any means confined to, our personal appearance, or the furniture of our houses; but when we contemplate the failure of pecuniary means, as it is regarded by the world, and attempt to calculate the im- mense variety of channels through which the suffering it produces is made to flow, in con- sequence of the customs and habits of society, I believe they will be found to extend through every variety of human life, to the utmost range of human feeling. Is it not to escape this suffering that the man of unsound prin- ciples too frequently applies himself to dis- honorable means that the suicide prepares the deadly draught and that the emigrant sometimes forsakes his native land, and con- signs himself to the solitude of unpeopled wilds ? In short, what more remains within the range of human capability, which man has not done, with the hope of flying from the horrors attendant upon the falling away of his pecuniary means? When the reality of this suffering is ac- knowledged, as it must be by all who look upon society as it exists at the present mo- ment ; the next subject of importance is, to consider how the suffering can be obviated, and its fatal effects upon the peace and hap- piness of society prevented. The most immediate means that could be made to operate upon woman would unques- tionably be by implanting in her mind a deeper and more rational foundation of thought and feeling to put a stop to that endless variety of ill-natured gossip which relates to the want of elegance, or fashionable air in certain per- sons' dress and manner of living ; so that there should be no questioning, " What will be thought of my wearing this dress again ?" " What will Miss P., or Mrs. W. say, if they see our old curtains ?" " What can the John- sons mean by travelling outside V " What will the people at church or chapel say, when they see your shabby veil?" "I positively don't believe the Wilsons can afford a new carpet, or they would surely have one ; and they have discontinued their subscription to our book-society." THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 97 It is neither grateful nor profitable to pur- sue these remarks any further than as they serve for specimens of that most contempti- ble of small-talk, which yet exercises a pow- erful influence over the female mind so much so, that I have known the whole fabric of a woman's philosophy entirely overthrown, and her peace of mind for the moment destroyed, by the simple question, whether she had no other dress than the one she was so often seen to wear. There is another instance that occurs to me as illustrating, in a striking manner, the sub- ject immediately under consideration : it is that of wearing mourning for a deceased rel- ative. This custom is so generally acknow- ledged as desirable, that it needs no recom- mendation from my pen. One would suppose, however, on a superficial view of it, that the wearing of black, as a general costume indi- cative of the absence of festivity or merriment from the bereaved family, was all that had been originally intended by this custom ; and that it should thus become an outward testi- mony of respect and sorrow for the dead. The fashion of the world, however, has im- posed upon this custom, as applies to females, certain restrictions, and additions so expen- sive in their nature as to render it rather an article of luxury to wear genteel mourning, or that which is indicative of the deepest grief. It interferes but little with the sorrow and seclusion of a recent bereavement, for the mistress of ample means to give orders for an external exemplification of precisely the de- gree of sorrow supposed to attend upon the loss of a parent, or a distant relative. But when the means of pecuniary expenditure are extremely small, and the materials for appearing properly in public have to be made up at home, and prepared for use within a very limited time, it is evident that greater regard to the sacredness of sorrow would suggest the desirableness of a less elaborate style of dress, or perhaps a dress not abso- lutely new for the occasion. Ladies, how- ever, and those who have been accustomed to make gentility the primary rule of their conduct, must mourn genteelly; and, conse- quently, there are often scenes of bustling preparation, of invention, and studious ar- rangement scenes, upon which, if a stranger should look in, he would see an appearance of activity, and interest, almost amounting to amusement, in the very house where the shut- ters are still closed ; and which are wholly at variance with the silence and the sanctity of a deep and solemn grief. Nor is this all. So extremely becoming and lady-like is the fashionable style of mourn- ing, that, under the plea of paying greater re- spect to the memory of the dead, it has be- come an object of ambition to wear it in its greatest excellence ; and equally an object of dread, and source of humiliation, to be com- pelled to wear it in an inferior style. Thus, when the loss of a father is attended with the failure of his pecuniary resources, it adds no little to the grief into which his daughters are plunged, to be under the necessity of appear- ing so soon after their twofold loss, under such an outward sign of poverty as is generally understood by the world to be betrayed by cheap and humble mourning. It is evident that if the preparation of mourn- ing had never been reduced to a system so many folds of crape for a parent so many for a sister, and so on the peculiar style in which it might be made up would never have obtained half its present importance, and re- spectable women, of fallen fortunes, might then have appeared in public with the credil of paying as much honor to the memory of the dead, as the more wealthy ; nay, they might even have been so absorbed in their heart- rending loss, and in all the solemn and affect- ing impressions it was calculated to inspire, as to forget to have any new preparation for the occasion, and might, without loss of re- spectability, appear again in those accustomed habiliments of darkness and gloom which for- mer instances of family affliction and bereave- ment had been the means of bringing into use. I mention the instance of mourning, not be- cause it iiffers materially from many others, but because it appears to me to illustrate clearly and strikingly the degree of shame and trouble, and perplexity, in which women GENERAL HABITS OF are involved by ."the habit of attaching too much importance to the usages of society. I know that it is beneficial to the character and the morals of women, that their good name should be guarded from every breath of re- proach ; and that the wholesome restrictions of society are absolutely necessary to prevent them from sometimes venturing too far under the influence of generous and disinterested feeling. But my remarks apply exclusively to cases where their moral worth would be established, not endangered; and I would earnestly request my countrywomen to bear in mind the immense difference between de- viating from the rules of fashion, and break- ing through the wholesome restrictions of prudence. I have spoken in strong terms of the suf- ferings and inconveniences incident to women, from their slavery to the opinion of the world ; but were this consideration all that had to be taken into account, they would unquestiona- bly have a right to adjust the balance, and act according to their own choice. There is, however, a far more important question connected with this subject and that is, the question of integrity. If there be one moral quality for which England as a nation is distinguished above all others, I should say it was her integrity : integrity in her intercourse with other na- tions ; integrity in the administration of her government and laws ; integrity in the sound hearts and honorable feelings of her patriotic sons. And shall her daughters be less solicitous to uphold this high standard of moral worth ? They answer " No !" But they are perhaps not all aware of the encroaching and insidi- ous nature of artificial wants, and tastes, and habits, founded upon the fashion of the times rather than upon any lasting principle of right They are not all aware, that to dress and live beyond their means, is a species of public robbery ; and that even if every law- ful debt is paid, and the balance struck with- out injury to character or credit, there are still the poor, the starving, hungry, helpless poor, unsatisfied with bread. They have therefore the strong claims both of justice and benevolence to fulfil, before the integrity of their Christian character can be complete. With regard to general benevolence, and charity to the poor, we are apt to deceive ourselves to an extent which would be be- yond our belief, were we not convinced by the observation of every day, that few, very few of those even in the middle ranks of life few even of those tender-hearted fe- males who are so painfully affected by every exhibition of human misery do any thing at all commensurate with their means, towards alleviating the suffering which is to be found among the poor. I am not inclined to attach any high de- gree of merit to the mere act of giving money to the poor, because I esteem it a luxury to be thus instrumental in relieving their press- ing difficulties ; and I am also in considera- ble doubt whether this js the best method of relieving them. The point I am about to re- mark upon, however, is the extreme incon- sistency of those longings, so prevalent among ladies, thaj; they could give to the poor, and the lamentations they frequently utter relating to the absolute necessity they are under of not giving more. We find them elegantly dressed, dwelling among costly fur- niture, and denying themselves nothing which their wealthier neighbors enjoy ; and all the while they do so wish they could give more to the poor ! I confess it sickens the heart, and wearies the mind, to listen to absurdities like this. If these individuals would but let the matter rest, and be content to be fashionable without pretending to be generous, half their culpa- bility would cease to exist But they go on to explain to you how their station in life, and their credit in society, require them to dress and live in a certain way, and how they consider themselves doing a benefit to their country by their encouragement of its manufactures. ' It would not be inappropriate to ask them, as they enter a fashionable and expensive establishment to purchase some costly articles of dress, whether they are do- ing it in reality for the benefit of their country ? THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 99 and there might be seasons when it would be equally appropriate to inquire, whether they prefer their appearance before the world, to the spiritual consolation of having made the injunctions of their blessed Saviour the rule of their conduct The measure of charity which it is our duty to bestow upon the poor, is a point of very difficult adjustment, as well as the man- ner we may choose to adopt in the distribu- tion of our means. We cannot properly make ourselves the judge of a brother or a sister, in these respects. But if we have sufficient resources for the purchase of luxu- ries, it is in vain to pretend that we cannot give to the poor ; and if we will not spare a little out of our little, we cannot expect to be belie ved when we boast of the pleasure it would afford us to be charitable with more. There are noble instances afforded by wo- men in the middle classes of society in Eng- land, of what can really be done in the way of benevolence, in a persevering and unob- trusive manner, which it is truly refreshing to the soul to contemplate. And I would earnestly recommend my young countrywo- men to look diligently to these, and to ask whether they cannot go and do likewise, rather than to accustom themselves to the dangerous habit of inquiring whether they cannot afford to purchase what is fashiona- ble and becoming to a lady, even when it is not necessary for comfort or respectability. By this means they would at least be able to attain a degree of merit ; for if they did not go to the extent of the truly devoted and praiseworthy, they might avoid involving themselves in that interminable chain of ex- pensive contingencies, which are sure to fol- low, if we set out in life by making it our first object of ambition to stand well with the world, and to accommodate our dress and mode of living to that which is most admired in society. The fallacious mode of reasoning induced by too slavish a conformity to the fashions and the customs of the world, creates an endless series of entanglements most fatally seductive to woman's better feelings. The fact of having, or not having, absolute debts unpaid, seems to be, with most young ladies, the boundary-line of their morality, as relates to their pecuniary affairs ; and well would it be if all were strictly scrupulous even to this extent Within this line, however, there may be deviations from the integrity of a noble, generous, and enlightened mind, which yet the world takes no cognizance of, and which do not materially affect the character, as it is judged of by society in general. I have said that the world is an unjust judge, and in no instance is it more so than in this. The world pays homage to an ex- pensive, elegant, and lady-like appearance, but it takes little note of the principle that would condemn this appearance, if it could not be maintained without encroachment up- on a parent's limited means. The restric- tions of civil law refer only to the payment of pecuniary debts ; and when these are dis- charged, we may appear without reproach before society. But happily for us, we have a higher standard of moral duty; and the integrity of the Christian character requires a strict observance of points of conduct un- seen by society, and perhaps known only to ourselves, and to the great Searcher of hu- man hearts, by whose judgment we must stand or fall. Reasoning, then, upon these subjects, from higher principles, we clearly perceive that we have no right to indulge ourselves with luxu- ries, or to purchase the countenance and fa- vor of society, at the expense of a parent's peace, or by the sacrifice of the comforts of his old age. We have no right to encroach upon means not strictly and lawfully our own, even though they should be granted to our necessities, for more than belongs to ac- tual decency of appearance, and sufficiency of subsistence, except in those cases where it is the desire of wealthy friends or relatives that we should be adorned and supplied at their expense. We have no right, and no woman of good feeling would wish to estab- lish a right, to dress and live at the extreme of expenditure which a father, by nothing less than hourly and incessant toil, can obtain the 100 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF means of affording. We have no right to make presents, and thus obtain the meed of gratitude and admiration for our generosity, with money which is immediately transmit- ted from our father's hand for that especial purpose, while our own resources remain un- diminished, our own private store of treas- ures undivided, and our circumstances whol- ly unaffected. I do not say that to each one of the im- mense variety of daily and familiar actions, which might be classed under this head> there attaches the highest degree of actual culpa- bility. They are rather instances of encroach- ment, than of absolute injustice and wrong, But I do say that the habit of encroaching, just so far as decency will permit, and as oc- casion seems to warrant, upon all that is noble and generous, upright and kind, in hu- man conduct, has a fatal tendency to corrupt the heart, while it produces at the same time a deadening effect upon the highest and ho- liest aspirations of the soul. What answer can be made by such a soul to the secret questionings of its internal mon- itor? Or how shall we appeal to the gra- cious and merciful Creator of the universe, who has given us all this glorious world for our enjoyment, and all the elements of nature for our use ; who has looked upon us in our degiadation, and pitied our infirmities, and opened the gates of heaven, that his mercy might descend to us in a palpable and hu- man form, and that we might receive the conditions of his offered pardon, be healed, and live ? how shall we appeal to him in our private prayers, or stand before him in the public sanctuary, with this confession on our lips that just so far as man could ap- prove or condemn our actions, we have deemed it expedient to be just ; but that to him, and to the Saviour of our souls, we have grudged the incense of a willing mind ; and therefore we have enhanced our pleas- ures, and gratified our pride, and fed our selfishness, by all those trifling, yet forbid- den means, which he has pronounced to be offensive in his sight ? Besides these considerations, there is one of immeasurable importance, connected with our conduct in the sight of God. No hu- man mind can set a bound, or prescribe a measure, to its voluntary deviations from the line of duty. We have been supposing a case in which these deviations are extremely minute, and yet so numerous as to form as it were a circle round the heart a circle of evil. Imagine, then, this circle widening, and widening, year after year, through the seasons of youth and maturity, and the dreary winter of old age. What an awful and melancholy spectacle does the state of that heart present, enclosed as it were in a deleterious atmosphere, and growing perpet- ually colder and more callous by exclusion from the blessed light of heaven ! Oh ! let us not begin to breathe this dead- ly atmosphere ! And you who are yet in- experienced in the ways of human life, whose habits are not formed, whose paths not chosen, whose line of conduct not decid- ed, what a blessing would it be to you, both in this world and in the world to come, were you to choose iha.t,belter part, that would en- able you to look with a single eye to what is most acceptable in the Divine sight, and most in accordance with the will of God ; leaving the embellishments of person, the luxuries of taste, and the appropriation of worldly es- teem, to be enjoyed or relinquished with a grateful and contented mind, just as your heavenly Father may permit ; and bearing always about with you, as a talisman against the encroachments of evil, even in the most simple or most specious form, the remem- brance that none of these things are worthy of a single wish, if they must necessarily be obtained by the violation of his laws, or ac- companied by the tokens of his displeasure ! CHAPTER XIII. HABITS AND CHARACTER INTELLECTUAL AT- TAINMENTS EMPLOYMENT OF TIME MORAL COUKAGE RIGHT BALANCE OF MIND. To those gentle readers who have been kind enough to accompany me through the THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 101 foregoing pages, and who feel inclined to ex- ercise their forbearance towards me through a few more, I feel that some apology, or rather some explanation, is necessary for the manner in which I have so often been com- pelled to speak of the extraordinary ambition manifested by my countrywomen, in the present day, to make themselves mistress of every possible variety of intellectual attain- ment that can be acquired at school ; and I cannot help fearing that many of my remarks may appear to have been written with a view to depreciate the value of these treasures of mind, and, as far as my single influence may extend, to deter others from the pursuit of ; them. So far from this, I would repeat, if possi- ble, in words which could not be forgotten, my firm conviction that no human being can learn too much, so that their sphere of intel- ligence does not extend to what is evil. But, while the accumulation of a vast store of knowledge is one of the objects we have in view in the culture of the mind, we must not forget that it is by no means the only one. In rearing an infant, we not only supply its appetite with food, but also find it necessary to teach it the habit, and assist it in the pow- er, of exercising its limbs ; we guide its steps, and, as far as we are able, give it just notions of exercising its bodily functions with the best effect. To feed the mind, then, is but a small part of our duty. If we leave it helpless and in- ert, without ability to exercise its various powers, and judgment to exercise them aright, the most important portion of that duty is neglected. Thus far, I believe, all who are employed in teaching the young will go along with me, for their experience must afford strong evidence in favor of this state- ment There are some points, however, in which, it appears to me, they have allowed the fashion of the times to render their sys- tem of instruction extremely defective. But, for this, I am by no means prepared to say that they are in any degree to blame ; be- cause they have the taste of the times to con- sult ; and they would obtain little credit for making our young women what they ought to be, if that taste was not correct With regard to moral discipline, or that mode of instruction by which women would be fitted for their domestic and social duties, I have expressed my opinion in an earlier chapter of this work, and, with regard to in- tellectual culture, I hope to be pardoned if I now venture a few remarks. It appears to me, in looking abroad upon society, and contemplating the immense va- riety of mental attainments which prevail among the young women of the present day, that they are in imminent danger of suppos- ing, when they have acquired a vast amount of verbal knowledge, that the great work of education is done. They are, in short, in danger of mistaking the means for the end ; and of resting satisfied that they are wiser than the generation before them. In the acquirement of languages this is particularly the case. A young lady obtains the reputation of being clever, when she has made herself mistress of several languages ; and with this she is generally satisfied ; while she ought to remember that she has but gained possession, as it were, of the keys of vast storehouses of knowledge, for the use of which she is responsible to society. Again, in the pursuit of science, there is a technicality that strikes the ear, and gives an idea of vast superiority in the way of attain- ments ; and there are facts that may be im- pressed upon the memory, without the mind being in any way enlarged or enlightened by the reception of them. It is easy, for in- stance, to talk of botany, without the thoughts at any time extending themselves to the gen- eral economy of vegetation ; and of astrono- my, so as to tell the distances of different planets, without the soul being penetrated by one ray of illumination from the wisdom which designed, and which controls the star- ry heavens. It is easy to attend a few scien- tific lectures, and to return home talking of the names of gases, and of some of the most striking phenomena of electricity, the gal- vanic battery, and other popular exhibitions of the lecture-room ; but it requires a totally 102 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF different process of mind to take a general survey of the laws of the universe, and to bow before the conviction that all must have been created by a hand divine. From our observations of rural or roman- tic scenery, it is easy to babble about woods and waterfalls, about the ruggedness of mountains, and the grandeur of the raging sea ; but it does not follow as a necessary consequence that we have formed any con- ception of the idea of abstract beauty, or of the reverential, but admiring awe, which true sublimity is calculated to inspire. It does not follow that we shall have learned to im- body in the elements of nature those subtler essences of spirit and of mind, which, to the poetical and imaginative, people every desert, and render vocal with melody the silence of night It may be said, that in this busy world there is little employment for the imagina- tion little scope for the exercise of poetical associations. I grant for I am compelled to do so that poetry should be elbowed out of our working world to make room for ma- chinery ; but I see no reason why the same train of thought, and course of reasoning, should not be carried on. I grant that the materials are different ; but why should we not still endeavor to raise an altar in our minds for a higher, holier worship than that of the mammon of this world 1 Why should we fix our attention solely upon the material part of the universe, satisfying ourselves with the names of substantial things, with their variety, classification, and physical properties? Why should we confine our- selves to counting the pillars in the temple of nature, computing its magnitude and measuring its height, without referring all our calculations, through the highest range of imagination, to the wonder-working power of the great Artificer ? It may be said that we dwell too much in cities, and lead too artificial a life, to be able to perceive the instrumentality of Divine Wisdom in all the events that pass beneath our observation. If this be the case, there is the more need that we should rouse our- selves by fresh efforts, to penetrate beyond the polished surface of the world in which we live, into the deeper mysteries that lie be- yond there is the more need that we should endeavor to perceive, in the practical affairs of busy life, those great principles by which the laws of nature are governed, and the system of the universe upheld. If, for instance, we live in the heart of a thickly-peopled city, with the rush of its busy multitudes around us, and the labor of man's hand, and the efforts of his ingenuity, perpet- ually before our eyes, there is no reason why we should look only at the splendor of its manufactured articles, amuse our fancy with the outward aspect of its varied exhibitions of art, or regard with disgust the occupations of the mechanic, because he handles the raw material, and touches what is gross. Would it not be more consistent with the exercise of an enlightened mind, to contemplate the won- ders of that power which the Creator has in- trusted to the use of man, so that he lays hold, as it were, of the elements of nature, and makes them submit to his will 7 Night falls not with stillness and repose upon the city ; but we walk as through a living blaze : and shall we pass on, like children, pleased with the glitter and the show, without reflecting that man has been able to convert the darkest substance from the bowels of the earth into the very source of all this light ! Mountains and valleys, tracts of land and floods of wa- ter, intervene between us and our distant friends ; but we fly to them with a rapidity which, a few years ago, would have been pronounced, even by philosophers, impossi- ble. And shall we move like senseless mat- ter, even through the very heart of the moun- tain, calculating only the speed at which we travel, without awaking to the momentous fact, that by the ingenuity of man, mere va- por, proverbial as it is for its weakness, emp- tiness, and nothingness in the creation, has been converted into the master-power by which the mighty operations of men are car- ried on ? We take our daily walks through the bustling city, and gaze at the splendid exhibitions of taste, and learn the names of THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 103 those who are most skilled in music and painting, and all the sister arts ; and we speak in the cant terms that are most in vogue, and think we display superiority of mind and intelligence to use them well ; but should we not at the same time cultivate the habit of bearing in remembrance the un- changing principles of beauty, and of refer- ring back to them whatever is offered to our admiration in the form of art! We speak of the degrading cares and sor- did views that occupy the working world; but how have we endeavored to pass beyond these, and to connect them with the world of thought! We hear of the vast amount of labor carried on, and the relative expenses incurred, and the different things that can be made and done within a given time : but why should we not sometimes make a transition of thought from the material, to the means of working it from the means, to the power and from the power that is imparted, to the Creator who imparts. To-day the me- chanic plies his busy tools. To-morrow his hand may have become rigid and motionless beneath the stroke of death. Thousands and tens of thousands pass away from the scene of their labors, but the labor still goes on ; for the laws of nature change not, and the prin- ciples upon which the labor of man is carried into effect, remain the same. We are too apt, because we mingle in popu- lous and busy scenes, and feel the necessity of moving with the tide, to forget that what we see and hear, what is obvious to the senses and palpable to the touch, is not all that we live for, or even all that we live amongst We should endeavor to find breathing- times even amidst the hurry and the rush of present things. We should sometimes pause among the multitude, and listen mentally, to the beating of the mighty pulse of a tumultuous city, and ask, whether the Creator and Sustainer of this living mass is not beholding the operation of the various powers he has set in motion, marking its de- fects, supplying its deficiencies, and sustain- ing the stupendous whole. We should then be enabled to perceive something of the working of the inner plan, how one class of human beings depends upon another how the principles of justice establish checks and counter-checks, so that no single power shall be predominant ; how poverty and riches al- ternate, and how the vices of the bad are made to call forth the virtues of the good ; and by renewing our conviction that God is indeed here, as well as present to the more peaceful and harmonious portions of his cre- ation, we should renew our faith, and enjoy perpetual refreshment for our souls. What we most want in education, then, is to invest material things with the attributes of mind ; and we want this more and more, as commerce, and arts and manufactures increase in importance and extent We want it more and more to give interest to our familiar and necessary occupations ; and we want it espe- cially, that we may assist in redeeming the character of English men from the mere ani- mal, or rather, the^mere mechanical state, into which, from the nature and urgency of their occupations, they are in danger of falling. We want it also for ourselves ; for a time seems to be approaching, when the middle class of society in England will have to be subdivided ; and when the lower portion of this class will of necessity have to turn their attention to a different style of living, and to different modes of occupation, thought, and feeling. At present all this class are educa- ted nearly upon the same plan. The happi- ness of society, and our moral necessities, will surely, before long, suggest the import- ance of females of this class being fitted for something very different from drawing-room exhibitions. All that I have written in this volume, im- perfect as it is, has been stimulated by a de- sire to increase the moral worth of my coun- trywomen, and enhance the domestic happi- ness of my native land. In order that this should be done effectually, it seems to me in- dispensably necessary, that women, whose parents are possessed of slender means, or engaged in business, and who can with ex- treme difficulty accomplish even so much as what is called "making their way," that 104 HABITS AND CHARACTER OP women in this class should be educated, not simply for ladies, but for useful and active members of society and for this purpose, that they also should consider it no degrada- tion to render their activity conducive to the purposes of trade. It is a curious anomaly in the structure of modern society, that gentlemen may employ their hours of business in almost any degrad- ing occupation, and if they have but the means of supporting a respectable establish- ment at home, may be gentlemen still ; while, if a lady does but touch any article, no mat- ter how delicate, in the way of trade, she loses caste, and ceases to be a lady. I say this with all possible respect for those who have the good sense and the moral courage to employ themselves in the business of their fathers and their husbands, rather than to remain idle and dependent ; because I know that many of them are ladies in the best acceptation of the word ladies in the delicacy and propriety of their feelings, and more than ladies in the noble dignity of their general conduct Still I doubt not they have had their difficulties to encounter from the influence of public opinion, and that their generous feelings have been often wounded by the vulgar prejudices prevailing in socie- ty against their mode of life. With the improvements of art, and the in- crease of manufactures, there must be an in- creased demand for mechanics and work- people of every description ; and supposing English society to be divided, as it soon must be, into four classes, there surely can be no reason why the second class of females should not be so trained as to partake in the advan- tages resulting from this extended sphere of active and useful occupation. The only field at present open for what is considered lady-like employment, is that of educating the young; and hence the number of accomplished young women, too refined for common usefulness, whose claims to pub- lic attention as governesses tend so much to reduce the value of their services in that im- portant sphere. There are however, many descriptions of occupation connected with business in its va- ried forms, which are by no means polluting to the touch, or degrading to the mind ; and it would be an unspeakable advantage to hundreds of young females, if, instead of use- less accomplishments, they could be instructed in these. In addition to all kinds of fancy millinery, the entire monopoly of which they might surely be permitted to enjoy, I would point out especially to their attention, the art of drawing patterns for the muslin and calico printers, an occupation which appears pecu- liarly adapted to the female taste, and which might be carried on without the least en- croachment upon the seclusion of domestic life, and the delicacy of the female character. I have been led to understand that this branch of business is almost exclusively carried on by men ; and I cannot but regret, that an employment, which offers a tempting luxury to those who suffer from the combined evils of idleness and scanty means, should not also be rendered productive of pecuniary benefit to women. It seems, however, to be from this pecuniary benefit that they shrink ; for when we observe the nature of their daily occupations, their common stitchery, their worsted work, their copied music, their ingeniously-invented arti- cles for bazaars, it would be difficult to say in what sense they are more agreeable, or more dignified, than many branches of art con- nected with trade. It must, therefore, be the fact of receiving money for what they do, which renders the latter so objectionable ; and it is a strange paradox in our daily ex- perience, that this money should all the while be the very thing of which they are most in want The degradation of what is vulgarly called making their own living, is, I believe, the ob- stacle of paramount difficulty ; and therefore it is to reduce this difficulty, and to render it more easily surmountable, that our solicitude for the well-being of society, with all our influence, and all our talent, ought to be employed. It is in vain to argue in such cases, that individuals have no right to think and feel as THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 105 they do that women ought to be wiser than to consider themselves degraded by working for their own subsistence ; while such is the constitution of society, and such the early bias of the female mind, that it is almost im- possible they should do otherwise. The great point to be gained, is to penetrate at once to the root of the matter, and to begin by a dif- ferent system of education, to render moral courage the courage to do what is right the first principle of female conduct. What a world of misery this single prin- ciple of action, thoroughly grafted into the character, would spare the sons and daugh- ters of men ! I am inclined to think the foundation of moral courage must be laid in very early life, so as to render it effectual in bearing us up under the trials of maturer age ; and it is not only to elevate the general character of my countrywomen, but to spare them at least half the sufferings they now endure, that I would most earnestly recommend them, in cultivating the mind, to cultivate also the in- estimable power of exercising moral courage, whenever the claims of duty are set in oppo- sition to the opinions of the world. For want of moral courage, how many misunderstandings do we leave unsettled among our friends, until " The lightly uttered, careless word," the thoughtless action, or the false report, are allowed to poison the very springs of affec- tion, and to separate the dearest friends ! For want of moral courage, how often, and how fatally, do we fail in the sacred duty of reproving what we see amiss, until the evil grows and magnifies, and extends itself, and becomes so obvious to general perception, that we scruple not to join in its condemna- tion, forgetting that our own want of faith- fulness may possibly be chargeable with its existence ! For want of moral courage, how do we sink, and see others sinking every day, un- der the pressure of those pecuniary difficul- ties which I have already described, until we are guilty of almost every species of paltry meanness, to support an appearance of re- spectability before the world, forgetting that the grand foundation of all respectability of character, is an honorable, independent, and upright mind ! For want of moral courage, how often do we stoop and cringe, and sub- mit to contumely, and eat the bread of hu- miliation, and wear the rich garments that ought to cover us with shame, because we are despicable enough to live upon what is not lawfully our own, and what is often granted without good-will, and received with- out satisfaction ! Oh! that the women of England would rouse themselves with one accord, to break these galling chains ! to exemplify in their own conduct, and to teach their daughters, that there is no earthly enjoyment, no per- sonal embellishment, no selfish gratification, worth the sacrifice of just and honorable feeling that the humblest occupation, un- dertaken from a sense of duty, becomes en- nobled in the motive by which it is prompted, and that the severest self-denial may be blessed and honored by the Father of mer- cies, if endured in preference to an infringe- ment upon those laws which he has laid down for the government of the human family. There is another point of view, in which it appears to me that the present character of the women of England is extremely defective. It is as regards a right balance of mind ; or, in other words, a just estimate of the rela- tive importance of things in general. From the natural construction of the mind of woman, from the quickness of her per- ceptions, and the intensity of her momentary feelings, she is apt to lay hold of every thing calculated immediately to strike her fancy, or to excite her emotions, with an earnestness that excludes the possibility of her mind be- ing kept alive to other impressions, even more essential to her happiness, and more important in themselves. Hence, we find in society, that women too frequently invest the affairs of the moment, the circumstances occurring around them, and their own personal experience, with a 106 HABITS AND CHARACTER OF degree of interest wholly incomprehensible to strangers, and often utterly contemptible to men. I do not I will not believe that women are inferior to what is called the noble sex, in the moral world ; but I do be- lieve that from this very cause arises more than half the contumely bestowed upon their littleness of character. It is not that they want capacity or understanding to judge of many things as well as men. It is that they are so occupied with what is obvious on the surface of things, that they will not look be- yond ; and hence their unceasing propensity to trifle, and to render themselves apparently inferior to what they really are. This is the great leading defect in woman's character ; and it is the more to be regretted, that it presents to her mind innumerable sources of disquietude, which, with a more correct perception of the relative value of things, she might escape. She is apt, for in- stance, to attach as much importance, for the time, to the failure of her own musical per- formance, as to the failure of a bank ; and she appears to care little for the invasion of a foreign country, when injury is threatened to her best attire. It is no trifling humilia- tion to those who mix in society, if they have been accustomed to raise their views a little higher in the contemplation of nature and of human life, to be perpetually persecuted, in the midst of agreeable and intelligent con- versation, with questions about the minutiae of dress and conduct in some limited and local sphere of observation. I would not speak thus contemptuously of the familiar habits of my sex, if I did not know that they were capable of something better, and if I did not desire as I desire their good and their happiness that they would rouse themselves above this paltry littleness, and learn to become, what I am confident they might be, not only equal, but interesting and instructive companions to men. I have before remarked, that there is now, more than ever, a demand for the exercise of their highest powers, and their noblest energies, to counteract the effects of unre- mitting toil in obtaining the perishing things of this life. There is a greater demand than ever upon their capabilities of enhancing so- cial and domestic happiness ; and there is an equal demand for the exercise I have already recommended, of the power they possess of investing what is material with the attributes of mind. The littleness of character I have just de- scribed is one of the chief causes why they are not so estimable as they might be in their homes, or so interesting as they are capable of being in then* conversation with men. And thus their husbands and their brothers are becoming increasingly attracted by the political associations, and the public calls now leading them away from those domestic scenes which offer little to excite the atten- tion, or fascinate the mind. It may be said, that English women in the present day are, in this respect at least, su- perior to the generation before them. But granting that they are so, the necessity for further improvement remains the same, be- cause the habits of men are progressively involving them more deeply in the interests of public life, so that unless some strenuous efforts are made on the part of women, the far-famed homes of England will lose their boasted happiness, and with their happiness, their value in the scale of our country's moral worth. This is a serious subject, and one which ought to appeal to every mother's bosom throughout our favored land. It ought to be the solemn inquiry of every woman who has the sacred duty of training up the young committed to her trust, in what manner she may best guard against this growing evil, so as to stem the desolating tide which seems to threaten our domestic peace. Let her, then, after this solemn inquiry has been made, endeavor to place herself, in idea, in the situation of a traveller who ascends a mountain, and look upon the varied aspects of human life as he regards the scene pre- sented to his view. At first he will be struck with the magnitude of the rock he is climb- ing, amused, perhaps, with the plants that creep along its surface, and astonished with THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND. 107 the opening out of distant valleys, and broad rivers rolling between other hills, amongst which his eye had never penetrated before. He advances a little higher, and sees other views extending far and wide, and the pin- nacle of rock he at first thought so stupen- dous, diminishing beneath his feet higher still, and the broad river, with its sweeping tide, has shrunk into a silver thread still higher, and the pinnacle of rock is imper- ceptible, and he feels at last that he has gained the actual summit of the highest mountain, where he can compare the real height and distances of objects, and perceive how limited in comparison was the line which formed the original boundary of his vision how small and low, and compara- tively contemptible, the highest eminence to which he had then ascended. It is in this manner that we ought to ac- custom ourselves to realize those views of human life, and that estimate of sublunary things, that would bring all to the standard of their real worth. Judged of by this process, and tried by this rule, how differently should we appreciate the ordinary and familiar affairs of life ! How little should we find to occupy our thoughts, or engage our affections, in the trifles that now constitute the actual business of our lives how much should we find to admire and value in what we now despise ! It is to mothers, especially, that I would recommend this method of adjusting the bal- ance of the infant mind, because the longer the weights are allowed to remain unequal, and the balance untrue, the more extensive must be the evil resulting from the erroneous data upon which the youthful mind will rea- son. And let them remember, that while the mistakes of their management will probably be exhibited more strikingly in the conduct of their sons, their daughters will extend the evil to a wider range of operation, by in- stilling it again into the minds of another generation. It is not through a lifetime only, though that were sufficient for our follies it may be through the endless ages of eternity, that our good or evil influence shall extend. I have pointed out to my countrywomen, as I pur- sued this work, the high ambition of preserv- ing a nation from the dangers which threaten the destruction of its moral worth ; but be- yond this view, wide and exalted as it un- questionably is, there opens out a field of glory, upon which to enter might seem bless- edness enough. Yet, when we contemplate the possibility of being the means of inducing others to enter with us, and those the most beloved of earth's treasures, surely it is worthy of our best energies our most fer- vent zeal our tears our- prayers that we may so use our influence, and so employ our means, as that those whose happiness has been committed to our care, may partake with us in the enjoyment of the mansions of eternal rest. THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND: THEIR POSITION IN SOCIETY, CHARACTER, AND RESPONSIBILITIES. BY MRS. ELLIS, AUTHOR OF "THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND," "SONS OF THE SOIL," "HINTS TO MAKE HOME HAPPY," AND "THE WIVES OF ENGLAND." UNIFORM EDITION, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME. NEW-YORK: HENRY G. LANGLEY, 8 ASTOR HOUSE. 1845. PREFACE. THERE can be no more gratifying cir- cumstance to a writer, than to find that a subject which has occupied her thoughts, and employed her pen, has also been oc- cupying the thoughts of thousands of her fellow-beings ; but she is gratified in . a still higher degree to find, that the pecu- liar views she entertains on that subject, are beginning to be entertained by a vast number of the intelligent and thinking part of the community, with whom she was not previously aware of sharing, either in their sympathy, or their con- victions. Such are the circumstances under which " The Women of England " has been received by the public, with a degree of favor, which the merits of the work alone would never have procured for it. And as no homage of mere admiration could have been so welcome to the Author, as the approval it has met with at many an English hearth, she has been induced to ask the attention of the public again, to a further exemplification of some sub- jects but slightly touched upon, and a candid examination of others which found no place in that work. The more minute the details of indi- vidual, domestic, and social duty, to which allusion is made, the more necessary it becomes to make a distinct classification of the different eras in woman's personal experience ; the Author, therefore, pro- poses dividing the subject into three parts, in which will be separately considered, the character and situation of the Daugh- ters, Wives, and Mothers of England. The Daughters of England only form the subject of the present volume : and as in a former work the remarks which were offered to the public upon the social and domestic duties of woman, were ex- pressly limited to the middle ranks of so- ciety in Great Britain > so, in the present, it must be clearly understood as the in- tention of the writer to address herself especially to the same interesting and in- fluential class of her countrywomen. Much that is contained in that volume, too, might with propriety have been re- peated here, had not the Author preferred referring the reader again to those pages, assured that she will be more readily par- doned for this liberty, than for transcrib- ing a fainter copy of what was written in the first instance fresh from the heart. It seems to be the peculiar taste of the present day to write, and to read, on the subject of woman. Some apology for thus taxing the patience of the public might be necessary, were it not that both honor and justice are due to a theme, in which a female sovereign may, without presumption, be supposed to sympathize with her people. Thus, while the char- acter of the daughter, the wife, and the mother, are so beautifully exemplified in connection with the dignity of a British Queen, it is the privilege of the humblest, as well as the most exalted of her sub- jects, to know that the heart of woman, in all her tenderest and holiest feelings, is the same beneath the shelter of a cot- tage, as under the canopy of a throne. ROSE HILL, January 10th, 1842. THE CHAPTER I. IMPORTANT INQUIRIES. IF it were possible for a human being to be suddenly, and for the first time, awakened to consciousness, with the full possession of all its reasoning faculties, the natural inquiry of such a being would be, "What am II how am I to act? and, what are my capabilities for action V The sphere upon which a young woman enters on first leaving school, or, to use a popular phrase, on " completing her educa- tion," is so entirely new to her, her mind is so often the subject of new impressions, and her attention so frequently absorbed by new motives for exertion, that, if at all accustomed to reflect, we cannot doubt but she will make these, or similar questions, the subject of seri- ous inquiry " What is my position in socie- ty ? what do I aim at? and what means do I intend to employ for -the accomplishment of my purpose ?" And it is to assist any of the daughters of England, who may be making these inquiries in sincerity of heart, that I would ask their attention to the following pages ; just as an experienced traveller, who had himself often stepped aside from the. safest path, and found the difficulty of re- turning, would be anxious to leave directions for others who might follow, in order that they might avoid the dangers with which he had already become acquainted, and pursue their course with greater certainty of attain- ing the end desired. First, then, What is your position in socie- ty ? for, until this point is clearly settled in your own mind, it would be vain to attempt any description of the plan to be pursued. The settlement of this point, however, must depend upon yourselves. Whether your are rich, or poor, an orphan, or the child of watchful parents one of a numerous fami- ly, or comparatively alone filling an exalted or an humble position of highly gifted mind, or otherwise all these points must be clear- ly ascertained before you can properly under- stand the kind of duty required of you. How these questions might be answered, is of no importance to the writer, in the present stage of this work. The importance of their being clearly and faithfully answered to your- selves, is all she would enforce. For my own purpose, it is not necessary to go further into your particular history or circumstances, than to regard you as women, and, as I hope, Christian women. As Chris- tian women, then, I address you. This is placing you on high ground ; yet surely there are few of my young countrywomen who would be willing to take lower. As women, then, the first thing of import- ance is to be content to be inferior to men inferior in mental power, in the same propor- tion that you are inferior in bodily strength Facility of movement, aptitude, and grace the bodily frame of woman may possess in a higher degree than that of man ; just as in the softer touches of mental and spiritua beauty, her character may present a lovelie page than his. Yet, as the great attribute oi power must still be wanting there, it become more immediately her business to inquire how this want may be supplied. An able and eloquent writer on " Wo- man's Mission," has justly observed tha THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. woman's strength is in-hrt influence. And, in order to render this influence more complete, you will find, on examination, that you are by nature endowed with peculiar faculties with a quickness of perception, facility of adaptation, and acuteness of feeling, which fit you especially for the part you have to act in life ; and which, at the same time, render you, in a higher degree than men, susceptible both of pain and pleasure. These are your qualifications as mere wo- men. As Christians, how wide is the pros- pect which opens before you how various the claims upon your attention how vast your capabilities how deep the responsibility which those capabilities involve ! In the first place, you are not alone ; you are one of a family of a social circle of a commu- nity of a nation. You are a being whose existence will never terminate, who must live for ever, and whose happiness or misery through that endless future which lies before you, will be influenced by the choice you are now in the act of making. What, then, is the great object of your Hfe 1 " To be good and happy," you will probably say ; or, " To be happy and good." Which is it 1 For there is an important dif- ference in giving precedence to one or the other of these two words. In one case, your aim is to secure to yourself all the advanta- ges you can possibly enjoy, and wait for the satisfaction they produce, before you begin the great business of self-improvement In the other, you look at your duties first, ex- amine them well, submit yourself without reserve to their claims, and, having made them habitual, reap your reward in that hap- piness of which no human being can deprive you, and which no earthly event can entirely destroy. Is it your intention beyond this to live for yourself, or for others 1 Perhaps you have no definite aim as relates to this subject You are ashamed to think of living only for yourself, and deem it hard to live entirely for others ; you therefore put away the thought, and conclude to leave this important subject until some future day. Do not, however, be deceived by such a fallacious conclusion. Each day of your life will prove that you have decided, and are acting upon the decis- ion you make on this momentous point Your conduct in society proves it ; your be- havior in your family, every thought which occupies your mind, every wish you breathe, every plan you form, every pleasure you en- joy, every pain you suffer all prove whether it is your object to live for yourself, or for others. Again, is it your aim to live for this world only, or for eternity ? This is the question of supreme importance, which all who pro- fess to be Christians, and who think serious- ly, must ask and answer to themselves. There can be no delay here. Time is silent- ly deciding this question for you. Before another day has passed, you will be so much nearer to the kingdom of heaven, or so much further from it Another day, another, and another, of this fearful indecision, will be adding to your distance from the path of peace, and rendering your task more difficult if you should afterwards seek to return. If it be your deliberate desire to live for this world only, all the highest faculties of your nature may then lie dormant, for there is no field of exercise here, to make the cul- tivation of them worth the pains. If it is your deliberate desire to live for this world only, the improvement of the bodily senses becomes more properly the object of primary interest, in order that you may taste, smell, feel, hear, and see, with more acuteness. A little invention, a little calculation, a little ob- servation of cause and effect, may be neces- sary, in order that the senses may be grati- fied in a higher degree ; but beyond this, all would indeed be worse than vanity, that would tend to raise the human mind to a knowledge of its own capabilities, and yet leave it to perish with the frail tenement it inhabits. I cannot, however, suppose it possible that any daughter of Christian parents, in this enlightened country, would deliberately make so blind, so despicable a choice. And if your aim be to live for eternity ; if you IMPORTANT INQUIRIES. would really make this an object, not merely to read or to talk about, but to strive after, as the highest good you are capable Of conceiving, then is the great mystery of your being unravelled then is a field of exercise laid open for the noblest faculties of your soul then has faith its true foundation, hope its unextinguishable beacon, and charity its sure reward. I must now take it for granted, that the youthful reader of these pages has reflected seriously upon her position in society as a woman, has acknowledged her inferiority to man, has examined her own nature, and found there a capability of feeling, a quick- ness of perception, and a facility of adapta- tion, beyond what he possesses, and which, consequently, fit her for a distinct and sepa- rate sphere ; and I would also gladly per- suade myself, that the same individual, as a Christian woman, has made her decision not to live for herself, so much as for others ; but, above all, not to live for this world, so much as for eternity. The question then arises What means are to be adopted in the pursuit of this most desirable end 1 Some of my young readers will perhaps be disposed to exclaim, " Why, this is but the old story of giving up the world, and all its pleasures !" But let them not be too hasty in their conclusions. It is not a system of giving up which I am about to recommend to them, so much as one of attaining. -My advice is rather to advance than to retreat, yet to be sure that you advance in the right way. Instead, therefore, of depreciating the value of their advantages and acquirements, it is my intention to point out, so far as I am able, how all these advantages may be made conducive to the great end I have already supposed them to have in view that of liv- ing for others, rather than for themselves of living for eternity, rather than for time. I have already stated, that I suppose my- self to be addressing young women who are professedly Christians, and who know that the profession of Christianity as the religion of the Bible, involves responsibility for every talent they possess. By responsibility I mean, that they should consider themselves, during the whole of their lives, as in a condi- to say, if called upon to answer, whether they have made use of the best means they were acquainted with, for attaining what they believed to be the most desirable end. Youth and health are means of the utmost importance in this great work. Youth is the season of impressions, and can never be re- called ; health is a blessing of such boundless value, that when lost it may safely be said to be sighed for more than any other, for the sake of the countless advantages it affords. Education is another means, which you are now supposed to be enjoying in its fullest extent ; for I have already said that I sup- pose myself to be addressing young women who are popularly spoken of as having just completed their education. Fresh from the master's hand, you will therefore never pos- sess in greater perfection the entire sum of your scholastic attainments than now. Read- ing and conversation, it is true, may improve your mind ; but of your present possessions, in the way of learning and accomplishments, how many will be lost through indolence or neglect, and how many more will give place to claims of greater urgency, or subjects of more lively interest ! The present moment, then, is the time to take into account the right use of all your knowledge and all your accomplishments. What is the precise amount of these, we will not presume to ask ; but let it not be forgot- ten, that your accountability extends to the time, the trouble, and the expense bestowed on your education, as well as to what you may have actually acquired. How many years have you been at school 1 We will suppose from two to ten, and that from one hundred pounds, to five or more, have been expended upon you during this time ; add to this the number of teachers employed in your instruction, the number of books appropria- ted to your use, the time to say nothing of the patience bestowed upon you, the anxie- ty of parents, who probably spared with dif- ficulty the sum that was necessary for your education, their solicitude, their self-denial, - THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. their prayers that this sum might be well ap- plied ; reflect upon all these, and you will perceive that a debt has been contracted, which you have to discharge to your parents, your family, and to society that you have enjoyed a vast amount of advantages, for which you have to account to the great Author of your being. Such, then, is your position in life ; a Christian woman, and therefore one whose first duty is to ascertain her proper place a sensitive and intelligent being, more quick to feel than to understand, and therefore more under the necessity of learning to feel right- ly a responsible being, with numberless tal- ents to be accounted for, and believing that no talent was ever given in vain, but that all, however apparently trifling in themselves, are capable of being so used as to promote the great end of our being, the happiness of our fellow-creatures, and the glory of our Creator. Let not my young friends, however, sup- pose that I am about to lay down for them some system of Spartan discipline, some iron rufe, by which to effect the subjugation of all that is buoyant in health, and delightful in the season of youth. The rule I would propose to them is one by which they may become beloved as well as lovely the source of hap- piness to others, as well as happy in them- selves. My desire is to assist them to over- come the three great enemies to their tem- poral and eternal good their selfishness, indolence, and vanity, and to establish in their ?tead feelings of benevolence and habits of industry, so blended with Christian meekness, that while affording pleasure to all who live wiiliin the sphere of their influence, they shall be unconscious of the charm by which they I have already stated, that women, in their position in life, must be content to be inferior to men ; but as their inferiority consists chiefly in their want of power, this deficiency is abundantly made up to them by their capa- bility of exercising influence ; it is made up to them also in other ways, incalculable in their number and extent, but in none so ef- fectually as by that order of Divine Provi- dence which places them, in a moral and re- ligious point of view, on the same level with man ; nor can it be a subject of regret to any right-minded woman, that they are not only exempt from the most laborious occupations both of mind and body, but also from the necessity of engaging in those eager pecunia- ry speculations, and in that fierce conflict of worldly interests, by which men are so deep- ly occupied as to be in a manner compelled to stifle their best feelings, until they become in reality the characters they at first only as- sumed. Can it be a subject of regret to any kind and feeling woman, that her sphere of action is one adapted to the exercise of the affections, where she may love, and trust, and hope, and serve, to the utmost of her wishes] Can it be a subject of regret that she is not called upon, so much as man, to calculate, to compete, to struggle, but rather to occupy a sphere in which the elements of discord cannot with propriety be admitted in which beauty and order are expected to denote her presence, and where the exercise of benevolence is the duty she is most fre- quently called upon to perform 1 Women almost universally consider them- selves, and wish to be considered by others, as extremely affectionate ; scarcely can a more severe libel be pronounced upon a wo- man than to say that she is not so. Now the whole law of woman's life is a law of love. I propose, therefore, to treat the subject in this light to try whether the neglect of their peculiar duties does not imply an absence of love, and whether the principle of love, tho- roughly carried out, would not so influence their conduct and feelings as to render them all which their best friends could desire. Let us, however, clearly understand each other at the outset. To love, is a very differ- ent thing from a desire to be beloved. To love, is woman's nature to be beloved is the consequence of her having properly exercised and controlled that nature. To love, is wo- 4nan's duty to be beloved, is her reward. Does the subject, when considered in this point of view, appear less attractive 1 " No," IMPORTANT INQUIRIES. 9 you reply, " it constitutes the happiness of every generous soul, to love ; and if that be the secret of our duty, the whole life of wo- man must be a pleasant journey on a path of flowers." Some writers have asserted, that along with the power to love, we all possess, in an equal degree, the power to hate. I am not prepared to go this length, because I would not acknowledge the principle of hatred in any enlightened mind ; yet I do believe, that in proportion to our capability of being at- tracted by certain persons or things, is our liability to be repelled by others, and that along with such repulsion there is a feeling of dislike, which belongs to women in a higher degree than it does to men, in the same pro- portion that their perceptions are more acute, and their attention more easily excited by the minuter shades of difference in certain things. Although not willingly recognising the sensation of hatred, as applied to any thing but sin, I am compelled to use the word, in order to render my meaning more obvious ; and certainly, when we listen to the unre- strained conversation of the generality of young ladies, we cannot hesitate to suppose that the sensation of hatred towards certain per- sons or things, does, in reality, form part of the most important business of their lives. To love and to hate, then, seem to be the two things which it is most natural and most easy for women to do. In these two principles how many of the actions of their lives origi- nate ! How important is it, therefore, that they should learn in early life to love and hate aright ! Most young women of respectable parent- age and education, believe that they love virtue and hate vice. But have they clearly ascertained what virtue and vice are have they examined the meaning of these two im- portant words by the light of the world, or by the light of divine truth ! Have they list- ened to the plausible reasoning of what is called society ; where things are often spoken of by false names, and where vulgar vice is distinguished from that which is sanctioned by good breeding 1 or have they gone directly to the eternal and immutable principles of good and evil, as explained in the Bible, which they profess to believe ? have they by this test tried all their favorite habits their sweet weaknesses their darling idols 1 and have they been willing to abide the result of this test to love whatever approaches that standard of moral excellence, and to renounce whatever is offensive to the pure eye of Omniscience ] Now, when we reflect that all this must be done before we can safely give ourselves up either to love or hate, we shall probably cease to think that our great duty is so easily performed. Youth is the season for regulating these emotions as we ought, because it is compara- tively easy to govern our affections when first awakened ; after they have been al- lowed for some time to flow in any particular channel, it requires a painful and determined effort to restrain or divert their course ; nor does the constitution of the human mind en- dure this revulsion of feeling unharmed. As the country over whose surface an impetu- ous river has poured its waters, retains, after those waters are gone, the sterile track they once pursued, marring the picture as with a scar a seamy track of barrenness and drought ; so the course of misplaced affec- tion leaves its indelible trace upon the char- acter, breaking the harmony of what might otherwise have been most attractive in its beauty and repose. There is, perhaps, no subject on which young women are apt to make so many and such fatal mistakes as in the regulation of their emotions of attraction and repulsion ; and chiefly for this reason because there is a popular notion prevailing among them, that it is exceedingly becoming to act from the impulse of the moment, to be what they call "the creatures of feeling," or, in other words, to exclude the high attribute of rea- son from those very emotions which are given them, especially, to serve the most exalted purposes. " It is a cold philosophy," they say, "to calculate before you feel;" and thus they choose to act from impulse rather than from principle. 10 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. The unnatural mother does this when she singles out a favorite child as the recipient of all her endearments, leaving the neglected one to pine away its little life. The foolish mother does this, when she withholds, from imagined tenderness, the wholesome disci- pline which infancy requires choosing for her unconscious offspring a succession of momentary indulgences which are sure to entail upon them years of suffering in after life. The fickle friend does this, when she conceives a sudden distaste for the com- panion she has professed to love. The un- faithful wife does this, when she allows her thoughts to wander from her rightful lord. All women have done this, who have com- mitted those frightful crimes which stain the page of history all have acted from impulse, and by far the greater number have acted under the influence of misplaced affection. It is, indeed, appalling to contemplate the ex- tent of ruin and of wretchedness to which woman may be carried by the force of her own impetuous and unregulated feelings. Her faults are not those of t selfish calcula- tion ; she makes no stipulation for her own or .others' safety ; when once she renounces principle, therefore, and gives herself up to act as the mere creature of impulse, there is no hope for her, except that experience, by its painful chastisements, may bring her back to wisdom and to peace. Does this seem a hard sentence to pro- nounce upon those impetuous young crea- tures who make it their boast that they never stay to think, that they cannot reason, and were only born to feel ? Hard as it is, ob- servation proves it true. If we do not ac- knowledge any regular system of conduct, habit will render that systematical which is our customary choice ; and if we choose day by day to act from impulse rather than prin- ciple, we yield ourselves to a fatal and delu- sive system, the worst consequences of which will follow us beyond the grave. As youth is the season for making this im- portant choice, so it is the season for impres- 4 sions. You will never remember what you acquire in after life, as you will remember what you are acquiring now. The know- ledge you now obtain of evil will haunt you through future years, like a dark spectre in your path ; while the glimpses of virtue which you now perceive irradiating the circle in which you move, will re-appear before you to the end of life, surrounded by the same bright halo which adorns them now. If you have loved the virtuous and the good if you have associated yourselves with their pursuits, and made their aims and ob- jects yours in early life the remembrance of these early friends will form a bright spot in your existence, to recur to as long as that existence lasts. It is therefore of the highest importance to the right government of your affections, that you should endeavor to form clear notions of good and evil, in order that you may know how to choose the one and refuse the other ; not to take tltings for granted ; not to believe that is always best which is most approved by the world, unless you would prefer the approbation of man to that of God ; but to be willing to see the truth, whatever it may be, and as such to embrace it In the gospel of Christ there are truths so simple and so clear, so perfectly in keeping one with another, that none need be kept in the dark as to the principles on which they ought to act, if they are but willing to sub- mit themselves to this rule. I speak here of the practical part of the Scriptures only ; but in connection with the vivid and lasting impressions made upon the mind of youth, I would strongly enforce the importance of choosing that season for ob- taining an intimate knowledge of the Scrip- tures altogether. You can scarcely at pres- ent be aware of the extreme value of this knowledge : it will serve you in after life as a rich and precious store to draw upon, not only for your own consolation, and the re- newal of your own faith, but for the comfort, guidance, and support of all who come with- in the sphere of your influence, or depend upon you for aid in the great work of pre- paring for eternity. Without this knowledge, how feeble will be your arguments on the IMPORTANT INQUIRIES. most important of all subjects, how useless your assertions, and how devoid of efficacy your endeavors to disseminate the principles of Divine Truth ! How enviable does the possession of this knowledge now appear to many a zealous Christian who has to deplore the consequences of a neglected youth ! for I repeat, that in after life it is almost impossi- ble to impress the mind with the same vivid- ness, and consequently to enrich the memory with the same amount of useful knowledge, as when the aspect of the world is new, and the feelings comparatively unoccupied and unimpressed. The same observations which occur in re- lation to the reading of the Scriptures at an early period of life, apply, in degree, to the acquisition of all other kinds of knowledge. Never again will the mind be so free from distraction as now ; never again will the claims of duty be so few ; never again will the memory be so unoccupied. If, therefore, a store of knowledge is not laid up while the mind is in this state, it will be found wanting when most needed ; and difficult indeed is the task, and mortifying the situation, of those whose information has to be sought, in order to supply the demand of every hour. As well might the cultivator of the soil allow his grain to remain in the fields, until hunger reminded him that bread was wanted on his board ; as the woman who expects to fill a respectable station in life, go forth into society unprovided with that supply of knowledge and information which she will there find per- petually required. The use of such knowledge is a different question, and remains yet to be discussed ; but on the importance of its ac- quisition in the season of youth, there can be but one opinion among experienced and ra- tional beings. Of all kinds of knowledge, that of our own ignorance is the first to be acquired. It is an humbling lesson for those to learn, who are built up on the foundation of what is called a good education ; yet such is the fact, that the knowledge which young ladies bring home with them from school, forms but a very small part of that which they will be expect- ed to possess. Indeed, such is the illimitable nature of knowledge, that persons can only be said to know much or little by compari- son. It is by comparing ourselves with others, and especially with those who are more advanced in life, that we first learn the important secret of our own deficiencies. And it is good to keep the mind open to this truth ; for without having clearly ascertained our own inferiority, we should always be lia- ble to make the most egregious mistakes ; not only by telling those around us what they already know, and wearying our ac- quaintance with the most tedious common- place, but by the worst kind of false as- sumption by placing ourselves in exalted positions, and thereby rendeiing our igno- rance more conspicuous. All this, however, though a fruitful source of folly and ridicule, is of trifling importance compared with the absolute want the mental poverty the moral destitution, necessarily occasioned by an absence of true knowledge ; we must begin, therefore, by opening our minds to the truth, not by adopting the opin- ions of this or that set of persons, but by reading the works of the best authors, by keeping the mind unbiassed by the writings or the conversation of persons infected with prejudice, and by endeavoring to view every object in its full extent, its breadth, its reality, and its importance. It is the grand defect in woman's intellect- ual condition, that she seldom makes any equivalent effort to do this. She is not only too often occupied with the mere frivolities of life, to estimate the true value of general knowledge ; but, she is also too apt to hang her credulity upon her affections, and to take any thing for granted which is believed by those whom she loves. It is true, this ser- vility of mind may appear to some like act- ing out the law of love, which I am so anx- ious to advocate ; but how is it, If their dearest friends are in error, and if they err in such a way as to endanger their temporal and eternal interests 1 Is it not a higher and no- bler effort of love, to see and rectify such er- ror, than to endeavor to imbibe the same, for THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. the sake of being companions in folly, or in sin? One of the greatest faults in the system of education pursued in the present day, is that of considering youth as the season for read- ing short and easy books. Although the ablest of female writers I had almost said the wisest of women has left on record her testimony against this practice, it continues to be the fashion, to place in, the hands of young persons, all kinds of abstracts, sum- maries, and short means of arriving at facts ; as if the only use of knowledge was to be able to repeat by rote a list of the dates of public events. Now, if ever an entire history or a com- plete work is worth reading, it must be at an early period of life, when attention and leisure are both at our command. By the early and studious reading of books of this description, those important events which it is of so much consequence to impress upon the mind, be- come interwoven in the memory, with the spirit and style of the author ; so that instead of the youthful reader becoming possessed of nothing more than a mere table of facts, she is in reality associating herself with a be- ing of the highest order of mind, seeing with the eyes of the author, breathing his atmo- sphere, thinking his thoughts, and imbibing, through a thousand indirect channels, the very essence of his genius. This is the only kind of reading which is really worthy of the name. Abstracts and compendiums may very properly be glanced over in after life, for the sake of refreshing the memory as to dates and facts ; but unless the works of the best authors have been read in this manner in early life, there will always be something vapid in our conversa- tion, contracted in our views, prejudiced in our mode of judging, and vulgar in our habits of thinking and speaking of things in general. In vain may we attempt to hide this great deficiency. Art may in some measure conceal what is wanting ; but it can- not bring to light what does not exist Pru- dence may seal the lips, and female tact may point out when to speak with safety, and when to withhold a remark ; but all those enlightened views, all that bold launching forth into the region of intellect, all the com- panionship of gifted minds, which intelligent women, even in their inferior capacity, may at least delight in, will be wanting to the hap- piness of her who chooses to waste the pre- cious hours of youth in idleness or frivolity. Nor is it easy for after study to make up the deficiency of what ought to have been acquired in youth. Bare information dragged in to supply the want of the moment, without arrangement, and without previous thought, too often resembles in its crudeness and in- appropriate display, a provision of raw fruits, and undressed food, instead of the luxuries of an elegant and well-furnished board. I have heard it pleaded by young women, that they did "not care for knowledge " "did not wish to be clever." And if such persons would be satisfied to fill the lowest place in society, to creep through the world alone, or to have silly husbands, and idiot sons, we should say that their ambition was equal to their destiny. But when we see the same persons jealous of their rigRTs as intellectual beings, aspiring to be the companions of ra- tional men, and, above all, the early instruct- ors of immortal beings, we blush to contem- plate such lamentable destitution of right feel- ing, and can only forgive their presumption in consideration to their ignorance and fol- If- I cannot believe of any of tho young per- sons who may read these pages, that they could be guilty of such an act of ingratitude to the great Author of their being, and the Giver of evey good and perfect gift they pos- sess, as deliberately to choose to consign to oblivion and neglect the intellectual part of their nature, which may justly be regarded as the highest of these gifts. I would rather suppose them already acquainted with the fact, that those passions and emotions, to the exercise of which they believe themselves especially called, are many of them such as are common to the inferior orders of animals, while the possession of an understanding capable of unlimited extension, is an attribute ECONOMY OF TIME. 13 of the Divine nature, and one which raises them to a level with the angels. CHAPTER II. ECONOMY OF TIME. IN all our pursuits, but especially in the acquisition of knowledge, it is highly impor- tant to habituate ourselves to minute calcu- lations upon the value and progress of time. That writer who could teach us how to esti- mate this treasure, and how to realize its fieetness, would confer a lasting benefit upon his fellow-creatures. We all know how to talk of time flying fast It is, in short, the subject of our most familiar proverbs, the burden of the minstrel's song, the theme of the preacher's discourse, the impress we affix to our lightest pleasures, the inscription that remains upon our tombs. Yet how little do we actually realize of the silent and ceaseless progress of time ! It is true, that one of the first exclamations which infant lips are taught to utter is the word " gone ;" and the beautiful expression, " gone for ever," occurs with fre- quency in our poetical phraseology. Clean gone for ever, is the still more expressive lan- guage of Scripture ; and if any combination of words could be made to convey to us clear and striking impressions of this idea, it would be found among those of the inspired wri- ters. Yet still we go on from day to day, in- sensible, and unimpressed by this, the most sublime and appalling reality of our existenpe. The fact that no single moment of our lives, whether happy or miserable, whether wasted or well employed, can ever be recall- ed, is of itself one of the most momentous truths with which we are acquainted that each hour of our past existence, whether marked by wisdom or by folly, is gone for ever; and that neither ingenuity, nor effort, nor purchase, nor prayer, can call it back. Nay, so far is it removed from the range of possibility, that we should live again for any portion of our past lives, that it was not even am6ng the miracles wrought by the Saviour while on earth. Other apparent impossibili- ties he did accomplish before the eyes of wondering multitudes, breaking the bonds of nature, and even raising the dead to life ; yet, we find not among these mighty works, that he said to any single day in man's ex- perience, " Thou shall dawn again." No. Even the familiar face of yesterday is turned away from us for ever ; and though so close- ly followed by the remembrance of the past night, as well might we attempt to grasp the stars, as to turn, back and enjoy its sweet re- pose again. What then is the consequence ? Since time, this great ocean of wealth, is ebbing away from us day by day, and hour by hour ; since it must inevitably diminish, and since we know the lowest rate at which it must go, though none can tell how soon it may to them be gone for ever, is it not our first duty to make the best possible use of what remains, and to begin in earnest, before another day shall escape from our hold 7 We will suppose the case of a man who finds himself the possessor of a vast estate, with the power to cultivate it as he will, and to derive any amount of revenue from it which his ingenuity or labor may obtain for him ; yet, with this condition that an enemy shall be entitled to take away a certain por- tion of it every day, until the whole is gone. The enemy might, under certain circumstan- ces, with which the owner could not be ac- quainted, enjoy the liberty of taking the whole at once ; but a certain part he must take every day. Now, would not the man who held this property on such a tenure, look sharply to his own interest, and endeavor to discover by what means he could turn his estate to the best account, before its extent should be so far diminished as to cripple his means ? Reflecting, too, that each day it was becoming less, and that the smaller its extent, the smaller would be the returns, he might expect, would he not begin, without the loss of a single day, so to improve his land, to till, to sow, and to prepare for getting in his pro- duce, as that he might derive a lasting rev- 14 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. enue of profit from the largest portion, be- fore it should have passed out of his own hands ! A very common understanding, and a very trifling amount of knowledge, would prompt the possessor of such an estate to do this ; yet, with regard to time, that most valuable of earthly possessions, how few of us act upon this principle ! With some, the extent of this estate is narrowing to a very small circle ; but with the class of human beings whom I am addressing, there is, in all human probability, a wider field for them to speculate upon. Illness, it is true, may come and snatch away a large portion, and death may be waiting to grasp the whole: how much more important is it, then, to begin to cultivate and reap in time ! Perhaps it is the apparent extent of our prospect in early life, which deludes us into the belief that the enemy is actually not tak- ing any thing away. Still there are daily and hourly evidences of the lapse of time, which would serve to remind us of the impossibi- lity of calling it back, if we would but regard them in this light. If, for instance, we have committed an egregious folly, if we have act- ed unjustly, thrown blame upon the innocent, or spoken unkindly to a dear friend though it was but yesterday, last night, 1 or this morn- ing not all our tears, though we might weep oceans, could wash away that single act or word ; because the moment which bore that stain upon it, would be gone and gone for ever. Again, we scarcely become acquainted with life in any of its serious aspects, before death is presented to our notice. And where are they "the loved, the lost!" Their days have been numbered all those long days of companionship in which their friends might have loved, and served them better, are gone for ever. " And why," we ask, when the blow falls nearest to ourselves when the delight of our eyes is taken away as with a stroke " why do not the sun, and the moon, and the stars, delay their course 7 why do the flow- ers not cease to bloom ? the light and cheer- ful morning not fail to return 1 above all, why do those around us continue their accustom- ed avocations ! and why do we join them at last, as if nothing had occurred 1" It is be- cause time passes on, and on, and neither life, nor death, nor joy, nor sorrow, nor any of the changes in our weal or wo, present the mi- nutest hindrance to his certain progress, or retard for a single moment his triumphant and irresistible career. Nor is it simply as a whole, that we have to take into account the momentous subject of time. Every year, and month, and day, have their separate amount of responsibility ; but especially the season of youth, because the habits we acquire during that period, have an influence upon the whole of our after lives. The habit of making correct calculations upon how much can be done in any stated portion of time, is the first thing to begin with, for without this, we are very apt to go on with any thing that may happen to intejrest us, to the culpable neglect of more important duties. Thus, though it may be well for a man to pluck the weeds up in his garden for half an hour after breakfast ; yet, if his actual business lies in the counting-house, or the exchange, it would be worse than folly for him to remain plucking weeds up for half the day. In order to make the best use of time, we must lay out beforehand the exact amount proportioned to every occupation in which we expect to engage. Casualties will per- petually occur demanding an additional al- lowance, and something must consequently be given up in exchange ; but still our calcu- lations may generally be made with a degree of certainty, which leaves no excuse for our being habitually at a loss what to do. There is a class of young persons, and I fear not a very small one, who rise every morning trusting to the day to provide its own occupations and amusements. They descend from their chambers with a listless, dreamy hope that something will occur to interest, or enliven them, never imagining that they themselves are called upon to enli- ven and interest others. Such individuals ECONOMY OF TIME. 15 being liable to disappointment every day, al- most always learn to look upon themselves as unfortunate beings, less privileged than others, and, in short, ill-treated by faith, or rather ty Providence, in being placed where they are. It is this waiting to be interested, or amus- ed, by any thing that may chance to happen, which constitutes the great bane of a young woman's life, and while dreaming on in this most unprofitable state, without any definite object of pursuit, their minds become the prey of a host of enemies, whose attacks might have been warded off by a little whole- some and determined occupation. Their feelings, always too busy for their peace, be- come morbid, restless, and ungovernable, for want of proper exercise ; while imagination, allowed to run riot over a boundless field of vague and half-formed observations, leads their affections in her train, to fix upon what- ever object caprice or fancy may select. It is not attributing too much importance to the right economy of time, to say that it might prevent all this. I presume not to lay down rules for the occupation of every hour. Particular duties must always appertain to particular situations ; and since the necessary claims upon our attention are as varied as our individual circumstances, that which in one would be a right employment of time, would be a culpable breach of duty in another. There are, however, a few general rules which cannot be too clearly or too deeply im- pressed upon the mind rules which the rich and the poor would be equally benefited by adopting ; which the meanest and the most exalted individual would alike find it safe to act upon ; and by which the wisest and best of mankind might increase their means and extend their sphere of usefulness to their fellow-creatures. The first of these rules is to accustom yourselves every morning to say what you are intending to do ; and every night, with equal faithfulness, to say what you have ac- tually done during the day. If you find any material difference between what you have intended, and what you have achieved, try to proportion them better, and the next day, either lay out for yourself, or, what is far better, endeavor to accomplish more. This is the more to be recommended, because we learn, both by experience and observation, that whenever we bring down our good in- tentions to a lower scale, it is a certain symp- tom of some failure either in our moral, intel- lectual, or physical power. Still there is much allowance to be made for the inexperi- ence of youth, in not being able to limit good intentions by the bounds of what is practica- ble ; it is therefore preferable that a little should be taken off, even from what is good in itself, rather than that you should go on miscalculating time, and means, to the end of life. There are persons, and some considerably advanced in years, who habitually retire to rest every night, surprised and disappointed that the whole of their day's work has not been done. Now, it is evident that such per- sons must be essentially wrong in one of these two things either in their calculations upon the value and extent of time, or in their estimate of their own capabilities; and in consequence of these miscalculations, they have probably been making the most serious mistakes all their lives. They have been promising what they could not perform ; de- ceiving and disappointing their friends, and those who were dependent upon them ; be- sides harassing their own spirits, and de- stroying their own peace, by frightful mis- calculations of imperative claims, when there was no residue of time at all proportioned to such requirements. The next rule I would lay down is, if pos- sible, of more importance than the first It is, that you should always be able to say what you are doing, and not merely what you are going to do. "I am going to be so busy I am going to get to my work I am going to prepare for my journey I am going to learn Latin I am going to visit a poor neighbor." These, and ten thousand other "goings," with the frequent addition of the word "just" before them, are words which form a net-work of delusion, by which hun- dreds of really well-intentioned young persons 16 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. are completely entangled. " I am just going to do this or that good work," sounds so much like u I am really doing it," that the con- science is satisfied for the moment ; yet how vast is the difference between these two ex- pressions when habit has fixed them upon the character ! To the same class of persons who habitu- ally say, " I am going," rather than " I am doing," belong those who seldom know what they really are about ; who, coming into a room for a particular purpose, and finding a book there by chance, open it, and sit down to read for half an hour, or an hour, believ- ing all the while that they are going to do the thing they first intended; or who, setting out to walk for the benefit of their health, drop in upon a pleasant acquaintance by the way, still thinking they are going to walk, until the time for doing so has expired, when they return home, with cold feet and aching heads, half fancying that they have really walked, and disappointed that exercise has produced no better effect Now, in these two cases, there may be as little harm in reading the book a's in calling upon the acquaintance, and nothing wrong in either : but the habit of doing habitually what we had not intended to do, and leaving undone what we had intended, has so injuri- ous an effect in weakening our resolutions, and impairing our capacity for making ex- act calculations upon time and means, that one might pronounce, without much hesita- tion, upon a person accustomed to this mode of action, the sentence of utter inability to fill any situation of usefulness or importance among mankind. I am inclined to think we should all be suf- ficiently astonished, if we would try the ex- periment through a single day, of passing quickly and promptly from one occupation to another. It is, in fact, these " goings to do," which constitute so large an amount of wast- ed time, for which we are all accountable. Few persons deliberately intend to be idle ; few will allow that they have been so from choice; yet how vast a proportion of Jhe human race are living in a state of eelf-de- ception, by persuading themselves they are not idle, when they are merely going to act. Promptness in doing whatever it is right to do now, is one of the great secrets of living. By this means, we find our capabilities in- creased to an amazing amount; nor can we ever know what they really are, until this plan of conduct has been fully tried. Wisely has it been said, by the greatest of moral philosophers, that there is a lime for every thing. Let it be observed, however, that he has not, among his royal maxims, spoken of a time for doing nothing; and it is fearful to think how large a portion of the season of youth is spent in this manner. Nor is it absolute idleness alone which claims our attention. The idleness of self- delusion has already been described. But there is, besides this, a busy idleness, which operates with equal force against the right economy of time. Busy idleness arises chiefly from a restlessness of feeling, which, without any calculation as to the fitness of time or place, or the ultimate utility of what is done, hurries its possessor into a succession of tri- fling or ill-timed occupations, frequently as annoying to others as they are unproductive of any beneficial result. Busy idleness is also a disease most difficult to cure, because it satisfies for the moment that thirst for oc- cupation with which every human being is more or less affected, and which has been implanted in our nature for the wisest of pur- poses. It is under the influence of this pro- pensity to busy idleness, that, with multitudes who have no extraordinary capability for re- ceiving pleasure, amusement is made to sup- ply the place of occupation, and childish tri- fling that of intellectual pursuit It may be asked, how does the law of love operate here? I answer, precisely in this way We are never so capable of being use- ful to others, as when we have learned to economize our own time ; to make exact cal- culations as to what we are able, or not able, to do in any given period ; and so to employ ourselves as to make the trifles of the mo- ment give place to more important avocations. Vv'ithout having cultivated such habits, our ECONOMY OF TIME. 17 intentions, nay, our promises, must often fall short of what we actually perform ; so that i in time, and after many painful disappoint- ments, our friends will cease to depend upon our aid, believing, what may all the while be unjust to our feelings, that we have never entertained any earnest desire to promote their interest. Above all other subjects, however, con- nected with the consideration of time, the law of love bears most directly upon that of punctuality. No one can fail in this point, without committing an act of injury to an- other. If the portion of time allotted to us in this life be aptly compared to a valuable estate, of which an enemy robs us by taking away a certain portion every day ; surely it is a hard case that a friend must usurp the same power, and take away another portion, contrary to our expectations, and without any previous stipulation that it should be so. Yet, of how much of this precious property do we deprive our friends during the course of a lifetime, by our want of punctuality ? and not our friends only, but all those who are in any way connected with, or dependent upon us. Our friends, indeed, might possi- bly forgive us the injury for the love they bear us ; but there are the poor the hard- working poor, whose time is often their wealth ; and strangers, who owe us no kind- ness, and who consequently are not able 'to endure this injury without feelings of irrita- tion or resentment The evil, too, is one which extends in its consequence?, and widens in its influence, be- yond all calculation. Yet, for the sake of conveying to the youthful and inexperienced reader, some idea of its mode of operation, we will suppose the case of a man carrying I letters or despatches along one of our public roads, and so calculating his time as to ap- point to be met at some post on the road every hour, by this means to transmit his despatches by other couriers along branch- roads to distant parts of the country. The person whose business it is to place these despatches in his hand at a certain time and place, is half an hour too late ; consequently, all the couriers along the road are delayed in the same proportion, and there fs the loss of half an hour occasioned, not only to each of them, but to all who have depended upon their arrival at a certain time. It is true, that few of us are placed in the same relative position as this man, with regard to our fellow-creatures ; yet, none of us act alone ; and the mistress of a house, who de- tains a poor workman half an hour by her want of punctuality, may be the means of his receiving reproof, nay, even abuse, from oth- ers who have lost their time in consequence of his delay ; while others still, and -others yet beyond, through the wider range of a more extensive circle, may have been calcu- lating their time and means in dependence upon the punctuality of this poor man. If on particular occasions which recur every day, we find we are generally half an hour too late, the evil to others is sometimes easily remedied by making our appointment half an hour later, and abiding by it But such is not the plan of those who are habitu- ally negligent of punctuality. They go on, varying from their time, one day perhaps an hour, another a quarter of an hour, and oc- casionally perhaps being before it, 'until the whole machinery of intercourse with their fellow-creatures is deranged those of their dependents who are inclined to indolence taking advantage of their delay ; those who are impatient, fretting themselves into angry passions at this wanton waste of their pre- cious time; and many whose connection might perhaps have been highly valuable, leaving them altogether, in consequence of being wearied or disgusted with the uncer- tainty which attended all their proceedings. It is not, therefore, our own time only that is wasted by our want of punctuality, but hours, and days, and months, and years of the precious property of others, over which we had no right, and which was not inten- tionally submitted to our thoughtless expen- diture. It is often alleged by young persons as be- ing of no use for them to be punctual, when others are not so, and that they only waste a THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. heir own time by being ready at fhe ap- pointod moment. All this may be too true ; or parents and seniors in a family often have themselves to blame for the want of punctu- lity in the junior members. Yet is it of no mportance, whether we are the causes or the subjects of injury whether we practise njustice towards others, or only endure it ourselves? Surely no generous mind can lesitate a moment which alternative to choose, especially when such choice refers not to any single act, but to a course of con- duct pursued through a whole lifetime. Of what material consequence will it appear to us on the Bed of death, that certain individ- uals, at different times of our lives, have cept us waiting for a few hours, which might certainly have been better employed ? But it will be of immense importance at the close of life, if, by our habitual want of punc- tuality, we have been the cause of an enor- mous waste of time, the property of count- less individuals, to whom we can make no repayment for any single act of such unli- censed robbery. It is the principle of integ- rity, then, upon which our punctuality must be founded, and the law of love will render it habitual As there are few persons who deliberately intend to be idle ; so there are perhaps stiil fewer who deliberately intend to waste their own time, or that of their friends. It is th& lapse of years, the growth of experience, and the establishment of character on some par- ticular basis, which tell the humiliating truth, that time has been culpably and lamentably wasted. There are other delusions, however, besides those already specified, under which this fruitless expenditure is unconsciously carried on ; and none is perhaps, as a whole, more destructive to usefulness, or more fatal to domestic peace, than the habit of being al- ways a little too late too late to come too late to go too late to meet at the place of appointment too late to be useful too late to do good too late to repent and seek for- giveness while the gates of mercy are un- closed. All these may be the consequences of setting out in life, without a firm determi- nation never to yield to the dangerous habit of being a little too late. In this case it is not so much the absolute waste of time, as the waste of feeling, which is to be regretted ; for no one can be habitual- ly ever so little too late, without experien- cing at times a degree of hurry and distraction of mind, most destructive of domestic com- fort and individual peace. To be a few minutes too early, may appear to many as inconsistent with the order of the present day, when every thing is pushed to extremity, and it may consequently be con- sidered as a useless waste of time ; yet I am inclined to think that the moments in which we can say, " I am ready," are among some of the most precious of our lives, as affording us opportunity for that calm survey of human affairs, without which we should pass in a state of comparative blindness along the thickly-peopled walks of life. To be ready a little before the time, is like pausing for a mo- ment to see the great machine of human events at work, to mark the action and the play of every part, and to observe the vast amount of feeling which depends upon every turn of the mighty wheel of time. Who that has stood still, and watched the expression of the human countenance during the last struggles of a too late preparation for pleasure, for business, or for trial, has not, in a single moment, read more plain truths on that unguarded page than years of its ordi- nary expression would have unfolded ! Be- sides this, however, the great advantage we derive from being habitually too early, is the power it gives us to husband our forces, to make our calculations upon coming events, to see how to improve upon yesterday, and to resolve to do so ; but, above all other means of strengthening our better resolutions, it affords us time for those mental appeals for Divine blessing and support, without which we have no right to expect either safe- ty, assistance, or success. Fortified in this manner, it is less likely that any unexpected event should unsettle the balance of our minds, because we go forth with calmness, prepared either to enjoy with moderation and ECONOMY OF TIME. 19 thankfulness, or to suffer with patience and resignation. Young persons are often beguiled into the dangerous habit of being a little too late, by the apparent unimportance of each particular transgression of the kind duriqg the season of youth. If, for instance, they are a little too late for breakfast, the matron of the fami- ly commences operations without them, and they can easily gain time upon some of the senior members. At the dinner-hour it is the same. They have only to calculate upon a few impatient words, and a few angry looks ; and it is not the least unfavorable feature of their case, that to such looks and words they become so accustomed as scarcely to heed them, nor is it often that they bring any more serious consequences upon themselves by their delay, because the young are generally so kindly assisted and cared for by their friends, that by a long, and patient, and often- repeated process of helping, urging, and en- treating, they are, for the most part, got ready for every important occasion, or, in other words, are seldom left behind. It is in more advanced life that the evil begins to tell upon the happiness of all around them ; and let it never be forgotten, that the more exalted their situation, the wider their sphere of influence, the more extensive are the evils resulting from any wrong line of conduct they may choose to pursue. The season of early youth is, therefore, the best time for correcting this tendency, before it has begun to bear with any serious effects upon the good or the happiness of others. We will suppose the case of a mistress of a family preparing for a journey. Having been a little too late with every thing which had to be done, there is a frightful accumula- tion of demands upon her attention during the last day, but especially the last half-hour before her departure. In this state of hurry and confusion wrong orders are given, which have to be counteracted ; messengers are sent hither and thither, they scarcely know for what, and still less where to find the thing they seek. Servants grow disorderly, chil- dren teasing or frightened, the husband is angry, and sharp words pass between him and his wife. Accidents, of course, occur, for which the innocent are blamed. Time pitiless time rolls on, apparently with accele- rating speed. The distant sound of carriage- wheels is heard. At this crisis a string breaks. Why did it never break before 1 A flash of absolute passion distorts the face of the ma- tron. All dignity is lost. The carriage is at the door little children stretch forth their arms there is no time for tenderness. Scarce- ly a farewell is heard, as the mother rushes past them, leaving behind her, perhaps for months of absence, the remembrance of her angry countenance, her unjust reproaches, and the apparent want of affection with which she could hurry away from the very beings she loved best in the world. The servants in such a family as this, can scarcely be blam- ed if they rejoice when their mistress is gone ; the husband, if he finds abundant consolation in the peace his absent partner has bequeathed him ; or the children, if they fail to look.with any very eager expectation to the time of their mother's return. How, then, does the law of love operate here ? It operates upon the woman who is seldom too late, so that when a journey is in expectation, all things are arranged in due time, leaving the last day more especially for attention to the claims of affection, and the regulation of household affairs, upon which will depend the comfort of her family during her absence. Rising a little earlier than usual on that morning, she commends them indivi- dually and collectively to the care of the Fa- ther of all the families of earth ; and this very act gives a depth, a tenderness, and a se- renity to the feelings of affection with which she meets them, it may be for the last time. Kind words are then spoken, which dwell upon the memory in after years ; provision is made for the feeble or the helpless ; every little peculiarity of character or constitution is taken into account ; last charges those precious memorials of earthly love are given, and treasured up. There is time even for private and confidential intercourse between the husband and the wife ; there is time for 20 THE DAUGHTERS OF KNCF.ANI). a respectful farewell to every domestic ; there is time, too, for an expression of thankfulness for each one of the many kind offices render- ed on that sacred day. At last the moment of separation arrives. Silent tears are seen in every eye, but they are not absolutely tears of sorrow ; for who can feel sorrow, when the cup of human love is so full of sweet- ness 1 If, during the absence of such a mother, sickness or death should assail any member of her family, how will the remembrance of that day of separation soothe the absent ; while the kind words then uttered, the kind thoughts then felt, the kind services then | rendered, will recur to remembrance, invest- ed with a power and a beauty, which never would have been fully known, had no such separation taken place. It is possible the natural affection of the wife and the mother, in both these cases, may have been the same ; yet, how different must be the state of their own feelings, and of those of their separate families, one hour after their departure ! and not during that hour only, but during weeks and months, nay, through the whole of their lives ! for the specimen we have given, is but one among the many painful scenes which must perpetually occur in the experience of those who are habitually too late. It is true, I have extended the picture a little beyond the season of early youth, but this was absolutely necessary in order to point out the bearing and ultimate tendency of this dangerous habit a habit, like many of our wrong propensities, so insidious in its nature, as scarcely to tell upon the youthful character ; while, like many other plants of evil growth, its seed is sown at that period of life, though we scarcely perceive the real nature of the poisonous tree, until its bitter root has struck too deep to be eradicated. It is, therefore, the more im- portant, in all we purpose, and in all we do, that we should look to the end, and not awake, when it is too late, to find that we have miscalculated either our time or our means. CHAPTER III. CLEVERNESS LEARNING KNOWLEDGE. IN order to speak with more precision of those attainment* which youth is the season for acquiring, I must class them under three different heads cleverness, learning, and knowledge. By cleverness, I would be un- stood to mean, dexterity and aptness in doing every thing which falls within the sphere of ordinary duty. Cleverness of the hand, is no mean attainment in a woman. It is, in fact, of almost as much value to her, as dex- terity to the surgeon ; for though he may have knowledge to understand what is best to be done, unless his hand be skilful to do it, his knowledge will avail him but little in any case of emergency, where the life of a fellow- creature is at stake. The cleverness of the hand, therefore, though almost entirely neglected in modern education, except as relates to practice on the keys of the piano, is a qualification which, while it takes nothing away from the charm of feminine delicacy, imparts the additional charm of perpetual cheerfulness, added to a capability of general usefulness, and a conse- quent readiness for action whenever occasion may require our services. To know how to do every thing which can properly come within a woman's sphere of duty, ought to be the ambition of every female mind. For my own part, I do not believe I have ever learned any thing, even down to such a trifle as a new stitch, but I have found a use for it, and that in a surprisingly short space of time ; for either it has occu- pied what would otherwise have been idle time, it has used up what would otherwise have been wasted material, or I have taught it to others who were more in need of it than myself. Besides which, there is the grand preventive this dexterity supplies against ever being at a loss what to do ; the happi- ness it affords, both to ourselves and others, to be perpetually employed ; the calm it dif- fuses over a naturally restless temperament ; but above all, the ability this habit affords in cases of sickness, or other emergency, to CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 21 turn all our means to account in the service of our friends. This, however, can never be so thoroughly effected, as when the cleverness of the hand is aided ty the faculty of invention. And here I would ask, how is it, how can it be, that the exercise of this faculty forms so tri- fling a part of female education 1 Never does a woman enter upon the actual business of life, whatever it may be, but her ingenuity is taxed in some way r other 1 ; and she suf- ; fers blame, or endures contempt, just so far as she fails in this respect. If, at a critical juncture of time, any accident takes place in household affairs, woman is expected to cover up the defect, or supply the deficiency. If any article of common use is missing when wanted, woman is expected to provide a substitute. If the accustomed supply of comfort or enjoyment fails, it is woman's fault. No matter how great the deficiency of material with which she has to work, do- mestic comfort, order, and respectability rest with her, and she must be accountable for the falling short in any, or all of these. It is true that she is endowed by nature with the faculty of invention, in a higher degree, per- haps, than men, and skilfully and nobly does she sometimes use it ; but does not the very fact of this endowment teach us that it has thus been provided by Providence for the part she has to act in life 1 and ought we not the more sedulously to carry out this merci- ful design, by a higher cultivation of so useful a faculty 7 Why, for instance, should we not have premiums on a small scale, or other encouragements, in our public seminaries, for the most ingenious and useful inventions? Why should there not be a little museum at- tached to every school, in which such specU mens of ingenuity could be kept 1 We all know there are few simple pleasures which surpass those derived from the exercise of the faculty of invention ; might it not, there- fore, be rendered as profitable as it is amu- sing, by filling up some of the idle hours of a school-girl's life, and occupying the time fc>o frequently appropriated to mere gossip on subjects By no means calculated to im- prove the morals, or enlarge the understand, ing 7 The little girl of four years old, seated on a footstool beside her mother, is less happy in the rosy cheeks and shining curls of her new doll, than in the shawl she has herself invented for it, or the bonnet her sister is making. It is the same throughout the whole season of early youth. What is draw- ing, that most delightful of all amusements to a child, but the exercise of the faculty of in- vention 1 So soon as this exercise is reduced to a science, so soon as "perspective dawns," and the juvenile performer is com- pelled to copy, the charm of the performance in a great measure ceases. It is true, it will be restored a hundredfold when acquaint- ance with the rules of art shall enable the young student again to design, and with bet- ter effect ; but during her infancy, she has far more enjoyment in her own red-brick house, with a volume of green smoke issuing from every chimney and in her own round- bodied man, whose nose is emulous of a beak, and his eye in the centre of his head than in the most elaborate and finished draw- ings which a master could lay before her ;. not, certainly, because she sees more sym- metry or likelihood in these creatures of her own formation, but simply because of the pleasure she enjoyed while inventing them. It is a subject of delightful reflection, and it ought to be a source of unfailing gratitude, that some of those natural propensities which afford us the greatest pleasure, are, in reality, capable of being made conducive to the greatest good. Thus, when the little quiet girl is so happy and so busy with her pencils, or her scissors, she is indulging that natural propensity of her mind, which is, in after life, to render her still happier, by enabling her to turn to the best account every means of in- creasing the happiness of those around her, of rendering assistance in any social or do- mestic calamity that may occur, of supply in every time of household need, and of com- fort in every season of distress. But if the value of invention, and the ready application of existing means, be over- THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. looked under all other circumstances in a sick-room, none can doubt its efficacy. The visitations of sickness, however unlikely or unlocked for they may be to the young, are liable to all the gay and the grave, the rich and the poor, the vigorous and the feeble ; and we have only to visit some of those fa- vorite spots of earth which have become the resort of invalids from every land, to see how often the most delicate females are plunged into all the solemn and sacred mysteries of the chamber of sickness and death. It is under such circumstances that inge- nuity, when connected with kindly feeling, and readiness to assist, is of the utmost pos- sible value. There may be the same kind feeling without it ; but how is such feeling to operate 1 by teasing the invalid perpetually about what he would like, or not like ? The querulous and fretful state of mind which suffering so often induces, is ill-calculated to brook this minute investigation of its wants and wishes ; and such is the capricious na- ture of a sickly appetite, that every antici- pated relish is apt to pall, before the feeble desire can be gratified. We are therefore in- flicting positive pain upon the sufferer men- tal pain, in addition to that of the body, by compelling him to choose, and then to appear discontented, or ungrateful, in becoming dis- satisfied with his own choice. How thankful, then, ought women to be, that they possess, by nature, the faculty of invention ; and how careful ought to be their cultivation of this precious gift, when it can enable them to relieve from pain and annoy- ance those who already feel that they have enough of both ! How happy, in comparison, is that woman, who, by the habitual exercise of her ingenuity, is able so to make the most of the means within her power, as to supply, without its having to be solicited, the very thing which is most needed ; and though her endeavors may possibly fail again and again, there will sometimes be a smile of grateful acknowledgment on the lips of the sufferer, that will richly repay her most anxious care ; or, if not, she will still be happier, when oc- cupied by a series of inventions for the bene- fit of one she loves, than those can be who think, and think again, and end by only wishing they could think of any thing that could accommmodate or relieve. The faculty of invention, however, will fail of more than half its use, if the hand is not early accustomed to obey the head, in all those little niceties of management which fe- male occupations require. There must be a facility in the application and movement of the hand, which can only be acquired in early life ; and I would humbly suggest the importance of this in our public seminaries for young ladies, for I confess it has often seemed to me a little hard, that young wo- men of the middle ranks of life, should be dismissed from these establishments, after having spent years with little more exercise of the hand than is required by the music- master ; yet are they no sooner plunged into active life, as women I do not say, as la- dies than the readiest and best, nay, some- times, even the cheapest, method of doing every thing which a woman can do, is ex- pected of them. In all those cases of failure which must necessarily ensue, parents and brothers are equally dissatisfied ; while they themselves, disappointed that their accom- plishments are no longer valued as they were at school, and perplexed with the new, and apparently humbling duties which present themselves, sink into a state of profitless de- spondency ; and all this is owing to the sim- ple fact of their not having been prepared, when young, for what is expected of them in after life. Far be it from me, however, to advocate the old system of stitching, as the best kind of education for the daughters of England, of whom higher and nobler things are re- quired. But why should we not choose the medium between two extremes 1 and while we reprobate the elaborate needlework of our grandmothers, why should we not be equally solicitous to avoid the evils arising from an entire disuse of the female hand, until the age of womanhood? Neither would I Be supposed to advocate that entire absorption CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 23 of the female mind in a world of worsted work, which is now so frequently the case immediately on leaving school, and which I am inclined to attribute, in a great measure, to a necessary reaction of the mind, after having been occupied during the whole term of scholastic discipline, in what is so foreign to its nature, that the first days nay, months, and even years, of liberty, are spent in the busy idleness of assorting different shades of Berlin wool. These, I must allow, are pleasant amuse- ments in their way, and when the head and the heart are weary, may have their refresh- ment and their use ; but even in these occu- pations, the beaten track of custom is too much followed. The hand is more exercised than the head. To imitate is more the ob- ject than to invent, while, if the same pains were taken to create a pattern as to borrow one, new ideas might be perpetually struck out, and the mind, even in this humble sphere of action, might find as much em- ployment as the hand. It is sometimes made the subject of regret by learned, well-informed, and highly-gifted women, that the occupations peculiar to our sex are so trifling ; or, in other words, that they afford so little exercise for the mind. To say nothing here of the folly and the danger of allowing ourselves to despise such duties as God has set before us, I am dis- posed to question whether it is not in a great measure our own fault that these duties are in- vested with so little mind. Invention is surely no mean faculty, and I have shown how it may be exercised, even upon the most tri- fling affairs of woman's life. Economy is no mean principle, and this may be acted upon in the application of the humblest means to any particular end. Industry is no mean virtue, and we may be practising this, while filling up every spare moment with some oc- cupation of the hand. Cheerfulness is no mean embellishment to the female character ; and seldom is cheerfulness preserved, when the hand is allowed to be useless and idle. I confess there is a listless way of merely "getting through" with female occupations, in which little mind, and still less good feeling, is called into action : but when a lively in- vention is perpetually at work ; when a care- ful economy is practised for the sake of mak- ing the most of all our materials, and sparing our money, it may be for the purpose of as- sisting the sorrowful or the destitute. Where habits of industry are thus engrafted into the character ; and where cheerfulness lights up every countenance in a family thus em- ployed ; especially where there is any con- siderable degree of talent or illumination of mind, how many brilliant thoughts may arise out of the simplest subject, and how much rational enjoyment may be derived from the humblest occupations ! I cannot dismiss the subject of cleverness, or dexterity in doing whatever may come within the sphere of female duty, without observing that its importance refers in an especial manner to domestic usefulness. Nor let the young lady, who may read this, too hastily turn away with contempt from so humble a strain of advice. It does not fol- low, because she knows how to do every thing, that she must always do it. But it does follow, that if she wishes to stand at the head of her household, to be respected by her own servants, and to feel herself the mistress of her own affairs, that she must be acquainted with the best method of doing every thing upon which domestic comfort depends. These remarks can of course have no ref- erence to families who occupy a higher rank in society, and whose means enable them to employ a housekeeper as the medium of communication between the mistress and* the servants. I speak of those who have to give orders themselves, or who, in cases of illness, receiving company, or other derangements^ of the usual routine of domestic affairs, have to take an active part in household economy themselves. To such, how unfortunate is it not to have learned, before they attempt to direct others, the best method of applying every means so as to be productive of the greatest comfort, at the least expense ! I would of course be understood to mean, with the least possible risk of absolute waste. Your table 21 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. may be sumptuous or simple, your furniture costly or plain that will depend upon the rate at which you fix your expenditure, and has nothing to do with the point in question. The absolute waste of material, in whatever is manufactured, prepared, or produced, is an evil of a distinct nature, and can never be allowed to any extent, where it is possible to be avoided, without a deficiency of common sense, or moral rectitude. In my observations upon the women of England, I have dwelt-eo much upon the de- sirableness of domestic usefulness, that I can- not with propriety enlarge upon it here. Yet, such is my view of this subject, that if I were asked which of the three was most valuable in a woman cleverness, learning, or know- ledge ; and supposing all to have an aqual accompaniment of good sense, good feeling, and good principle, I believe I should answer in favor of the first, provided the situation of the woman was in the middle rank of life, and she could not enjoy more than one of these valuable recommendations. Youth is considered to be so exclusively the season for acquiring a skilful touch in the practice of music, that scarcely is the ex- periment ever tried of acquiring the same dexterity in after life. If then it is the only time for attaining excellence in what is mere- ly an embellishment to the character, of how much importance must this season be for practising the hand in that ready obedience to the head in all affairs of actual usefulness, which justly entitles its possessor to the dis- tinction of cleverness ! In order to convey a more correct idea of my meaning, when I speak of cleverness, I will simply add, that a woman possessed of this qualification is seldom at a loss what to do ; seldom gives wrong orders ; seldom mistakes the right means of producing the end she desires ; seldom spoils, or wastes, or mismanages the work she undertakes ; never hurries to and fro in a state of confusion, not knowing what is best to be done first ; and never yields to her own feelings, so as to in- capacitate her from the service of others, at any critical moment when her assistance may be most needed. Not.are her recommenda- tions only of a negative kind. Her habitual self-possession is a positive good, her cool- ness, her promptitude, her power to adapt herself to circumstances, all give worth and dignity to her character in the estimation of others ; while they afford peace and satisfac- tion to her own mind. LEARNING, Dr. Johnson tells us, is skill in languages or science. With regard to the time spent in the acquisition of languages, I fear I must incur the risk of being thought neither liberal nor enlightened ; for I confess, I do not see the value of languages to a woman, except so far as they serve the pur- pose of conversation with persons of different countries, or acquaintance with the works of authors, whose essential excellences cannot be translated into our own tongue ; and how far these two objects are carried out by the daughters of England, either from necessity or inclination, I must leave to their own con- sideration. With regard to the dead languages, the former of these two motives cannot apply. It may, however, be justly considered as a wholesome exercise of the mind, provided there is nothing better to be done, for young women to learn Greek and Latin ; but be- yond this, I feel perfectly assured, that for any knowledge they will acquire through the medium of the best Greek and Latin authors, our most approved translations would more than answer their purpose. It is true, that a knowledge of these languages gives an in- sight into the meaning of many important words in our own ; yet, an early and exten- sive reading of our standard books would unquestionably give the same, along with a greater fund of useful and practical informa- tion ; and for every purpose of female elocu- tion, I strongly suspect that good Saxon- English would be found as clear, impressive, and convincing, as any which can boast a more classical construction. There is one motive assigned in the pre- sent day, for young ladies learning Greek, but especially Hebrew, which I should be sorry to treat with irreverence or disrespect, CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 25 because it has weight w ith some of the most serious and estimable of their sex. I mean the plea of being thus enabled to read the Scriptures in the original. Now, if such young ladies have really nothing better, to do, or if from the high order of their natural capabilities they have a chance, even the re- motest, of being able to throw some addi- tional light upon our best translations, far be it from me to wish to put the slightest ob- stacle in their way. Yet, I own it does ap- pear to me a little strange, that after consider- ing the length of time required for attaining a sufficient knowledge of these languages, and the number of learned commentators and divine?, who have spent the best part of their valuable lives, in laboring to ascertain the true meaning of the language of the Scriptures, and when the result of those la- bors is open to the public, it does appear to me a little strange, that any young woman, of moderate abilities, should enter into the field with such competitors, in the hope of attaining a nearer approach to the truth than they have done ; and I have been led to question, whether it would not be quite as well for such individuals to be content to take the Bible as it is, and to employ the ad- ditional time they would thus become pos- sessed of, in disseminating its truths and acting out its principles, so far as they have already been made clear to the humblest un- derstanding. These remarks, however, have especial reference to moderate abilities; because there is with some persons a peculiar gift for the acquisition of languages ; and believing, as I do, that no gift is bestowed in vain, I would not presume to question the propriety of such young persons spending at least some portion of their lives, in endeavoring to ac- quire the power of doing for themselves, what has already been done for them. It is a remarkable phenomenon in our na- ture, that some of those persons who have the greatest facility in acquiring languages, have the least perception of the genius or spirit of such languages when they are ac- quired. The knowledge of many languages obtains for its possessor the distinction of being learned ; but if she goes no further, if she never expatiates in the new world of literature, into which her knowledge might have introduced her ; she is but like a curi- ous locksmith, who opens the door upon some hidden treasure, and who, instead of examining or appropriating the precious store to which he has obtained access, goes on to another door, and then another, satisfied with merely being master of the keys, and knowing how to unlock at his pleasure. To women of this class of mind, provided they belong to the middle rank of life, and are not intended either for teachers or trans- lators, of what possible use can be the learn- ing of the dead languages? and to others similarly circumstanced, but without this pe- culiar talent, there are excellent translations in almost every library, from which they will acquire a greater number of ideas, and be- come more intimately acquainted with the spirit of the writer, and the customs and the times of which he wrote, than it is probable they ever could have been from their own reading of the same works in the original. With regard to modern languages, the case is very different. Facilities of communica- tion between one country and another are now so great, that it has become no longer a dream of romance, but a matter of reasonable calculation, with our young women, even in the humble ranks of life, that they should some time or other go abroad. With our modern writers, too, it is so much the custom to indulge in the use of at least three lan- guages, while professing to write in one, as to render it almost a necessary part of female education to learn both French and Italian. If these languages have not been sufficiently attended to at school, they may, therefore, with the utmost propriety, be added to such studies as it is desirable to continue for some years afterwards ; and while their more per- fect acquisition is an object of laudable de- sire, the mind, as it expands in its progress towards maturity, will be better able to ap- preciate the beauties they unfold. I have been compelled, during the course THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. of these remarks, to use an expression which requires some explanation. I have said, that a young woman may with propriety learn even the dead languages, provided she has nothing better to do ; by which, I would be understood to mean, provided she does not consequently leave undone what would ren- der her more useful or amiable as a woman. The settlement of this question must depend entirely upon the degree of her talent, and the nature of her position in life. If she has no other talent likely to make her so useful as that which is employed in learning Greek, Latin, and Hebrew, this settles the point at once, or if she has no duties so important to her as to ascertain the derivation of words, or to study the peculiarities of heathen writers, then by all means let her be a learned lady, for every study, every occupation of mind, provided it does not include what is evil, must be preferable to absolute idleness. But may we not turn to the consideration of science as opening a wide field of interest- ing study, which does more to enlarge the mind, and give right views of common things, than the mere acquisition of language ? " Science ! wl^pt have we to do with sci- ence?" exclaim half a dozen soft voices at once. Certainly not to give public lectures, nor always to attend them, unless you go with your understanding prepared by some previous reading, or acquaintance with the subjects, which in the lecture-room are neces- sarily rather illustrated, than fully explained. Neither is it necessary that you should sacri- fice any portion of your feminine delicacy by diving too deep, or approaching too near the professor's chair. A slight knowledge of science in general is all which is here recom- mended, so far as it may serve to obviate some of those groundless and irrational fears, which arise out of mistaken apprehensions of the phenomena of nature and art ; but, above all, to enlarge our views of the great and glorious attributes of the Creator, as ex- hibited in the most sublime, as well as the most insignificant, works of his creation. Perhaps one of the lowest advantages, and I am far from thinking it a low one either, which is derived by women from a general knowledge of science, is, that it renders them more companionable to men. If they are solicitous to charm the nobler sex by their appearance, dress, and manners, surely it is of more importance to interest them by their conversation. By the former they may please ; by the latter they may influence, and that to the end of their lives. Yet, how is it possi- ble to interest by their conversation, without some understanding of the subjects which chiefly occupy the minds of men? Most kindly, however, has it been accorded by man to his feeble sister, that it should not be necessary for her to talk much, even on his favorite topics, in order to obtain his favor. An attentive listener is generally all that he requires; but in order to listen attentively, and with real interest, it is highly important that we should have considerable under- standing of the subject discussed ; for the interruption of a single foolish or irrelevant question, the evidence of a wandering thought, the constrained attitude of attention, or the rapid response which conveys no proof of having received an idea, are each sufficient to break the charm, and destroy the satisfac- tion which most men feel in conversing with really intelligent women. It is also worth some attention to this sub- ject, if we can thereby dispel many of the idle fears which occupy and perplex the female mind. I have known women who were quite as much afraid of a gun when it was not loaded, as when it was ; others who thought a steam-engine as likely to explode when it waa not working, as when it was ; and others still, who avowedly considered thunder more dangerous than lightning. Now, to say nothing of the irritation which fears like these are apt to occasion in minds of a more masculine order, it is surely no in- significant attainment to acquire a habit of feeling at ease, when there is really nothing to be afraid of. But, far beyond this, the use of science is to teach us not to " Wrong thee, mighty Nature ! With whom adversity is but transition ;" CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 27 and higher still, to teach us how the wisdom and goodness of God pervade all creation. Women are too much accustomed to look at the animal, vegetable, and mineral kingdoms with eyes that may almost literally be said not to see. An insect is to them a little troublesome thing, which flies or creeps ; a flower is a petty ornament, with a sweet per- fume ; and a mine of coal or copper, some- thing which they read about in their geog- raphy, as belonging to Newcastle or Wales. I do not say that their actual knowledge is thus limited ; but that they are too much in the habit of regarding these portions of the creation as such, and no more. Chemistry, too, is apt to be considered by young women as far too elaborate and mas- culine a study to engage their attention ; and thus they are satisfied, not only to go on through life unacquainted with those won- derful combinations and properties, which in some of the most familiar things would throw light upon their real nature, and proper use ; but also to remain unenlightened in that no- blest school of knowledge, which teaches the sublime truth, that the wonder-working power of God has been employed upon all the fa- miliar, as well as the astonishing objects we perceive ; and that the same power continues to be exemplified in their perpetual creation, their order, adaptation, and use. Chiefly, however, would I recommend to the attention of youth, an intimate acquaint- ance with the nature and habits o f the ani- mal world. Here we may find a source of rational and delightful interest, which can never fail us, so long as a bird is heard to sing upon the trees, or a butterfly is seen to sport among the flowers. I will not go the length of recommending to my young countrywomen to become col- lectors, either of animals or of insects ; be- cause, as in the case of translations from the best of ancient writers, this has already been done for them, better than they are likely to do it for themselves ; and because I am not quite sure, that simply for our own amuse- ment, and without any reference to serving the purpose of science, we have a right to make even a beetle struggle to death upon the point of a pin, or to crowd together boxes full of living creatures, who, in the agony of their pent-up sufferings, devour and destroy one another. Happily for us, there are ably written books on these subjects, from which we can learn more than from our own observation ; and museums accessible to all, where differ- ent specimens of insects, and other animals, are so arranged as materially to assist in un- derstanding their nature and classification ; and far more congenial it surely must be to the heart and mind of woman, to read all which able and enlightened men have told us of this world of wonder, and then to go forth into the fields, and see the busy and beautiful creatures by which it is inhabited, sporting in the joyous freedom of nature, un- harmed, and unsuspicious of harm. Yes, there is an acquaintance with the animal cre- ation, which might be cultivated, so as to do good to the heart, both of the child and the philosopher an acquaintance which seems to absolve these helpless creatures from the curse of estrangement from their sovereign man an acquaintance which brings them near to us in all their natural peculiarities, their amazing instincts, and in the voiceless, and otherwise unintelligible secrets of their mysterious existence. And it is good to be thus acquainted with that portion of creation which acknowledges, in common with ourselves, the great princi- ple of animal b'fe, to know that enjoyment is enjoyment, and that pain is pain, to myriads and myriads of beings, in some respects more beautiful, in others more curious, and in all more innocent, than ourselves. It is good to know, so far as men can know, for what pur- pose Almighty power has created them. It is good to behold their beauty, to understand their wonderful formation, and to examine the fairy fancy-work of some of their sacred little homes. It is good to be acquainted with the strength of the mother's love, when she stoops her wing to the spoiler, and offers her own life to save her tender brood. It is good to know that the laws of nature s in THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. their filial and parental influences, cannot be violated without sorrow as intense, though not as lasting, as that which tortures the hu- man heart on the separation of parent and child. It is good to know how these crea- tures, placed by Divine wisdom under the power and dominion of man, are made to suffer or to die when he neglects or abuses them. The earth and the air, the woods and the streams, the gardens and the fields, tell us of all this. When we sit under the shade of a lofty tree, in the stillness of summer's balmy noon, the note of the wood pigeon salutes us from above. We look up, and the happy couple are nestling on a bough, as closely, side by side, as if the whole world to them was nothing, so long as their faithful love was left On a lower branch of the same tree, or on a broken rail c\ose by, the little robin sits and sings, looking occasionally askance into the face of that lordly crea- ture whom instinct teaches him to shun. Yet is it less a reproachful, than an inquir- ing glance, as if he would ask, whether you could really wish to frighten him with all the terrors which agitate his little breast on your approach. And then he sings to you again, a low soft warble ; though his voice is never quite so sweet as in the autumn, when other birds are silent, and he still sings on amidst the falling leaves and faded flowers. Next, the butterfly comes wavering into sight, yet hastening on to turn its golden wings once more up to the sunshine. The bee then h5r- ries past, intent upon its labors, and attracted only for a moment by the nosegay in your hand ; while the grasshopper, that master of ventriloquism, invites your curiosity now here, now there, but never to the spot where his real presence is to be found. And all this while, the faithful dog is at your feet If you rise, at the same moment he rises too ; and if you sit down, he also composes him- self to rest Ever ready to go, or stay, he watches >your slightest movement ; and so closely and mysteriously is his being absorb- ed- in yours, that, although a ramble in the fields affords him a perfect ecstasy of delight, he never allows himself this indulgence, with- out youi countenance and companionship. But it is impossible so much as to name one in a thousand of the sweet and cheering influences of animal life upon the youthful heart. The very atmosphere we live in teems with it; the woods are vocal the groves are filled with it ; while around our doors, within our homes, and even at our social hearth, the unfailing welcome, the tran- sient glimpses of intelligence, the instinct, the love of these creatures, are interwoven with the vast chain of sympathy, which, through the whole of what may be a wandering and uncertain life, hinds us to that spot of earth where we first awoke to a feeling of compan- ionship with this portion of the creatures of our heavenly Father's care. Nor must we forget the wonderful and mysterious affection which some animals are capable of feeling for man. Often as we may have failed to inspire the love we have sought for among our fellow-creatures, we are all capable of inspiring attachment here ; nor does the fact of our being unattractive, or comparatively worthless among mankind, operate in the slightest degree to our disad- vantage with this class of beings. Witness the outcast from society the wanderer on the public roads the poor and houseless mendicant ; he still has his dog yes, and he bears the cold repulse he meets with when he asks for bread, better than he could bear the desertion of that faithful animal : but he fears it not The proud may pass him by unheeded, the rich may spurn him from their doors, the vulgar and the unfeeling may make a mockery of his rags and wretched- ness ; but when the stormy night comes on, and he seeks the almost roofless shed to rest his weary limbs, he is followed even there by one friend, who creeps beside him with a love as watchful and as true as if he shared the silken couch of luxury and ease. There are little motherless children, too, and others not unacquainted with a feeling of almost orphan solitude, who have felt, at times, how the affection of a dumb animal could supply the disappointed yearnings of a CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 29 young warm heart. In after life, we may learn to look upon these creatures with re- spect, because our heavenly Father has thought them worthy of his care ; but youth is the season when \ve love them for their own sakes ; and because we then discover that they can be made, by kindness, to love us. In youth alone can we feel to unite them with ourselves in that bond of sympathy, which will never afterwards allow us to treat their sufferings with indifference, or to regard their happiness as beyond the sphere of our duty to promote. Here, then, the law of love is made to operate through innumerable channels of sweet and natural feeling, extending over a wide field of creation, and reaping its reward of satisfaction wherever a poor animal is res- cued from oppression, hunger, or pain. The study of natural history is, perhaps, the most congenial pursuit to which the mind of youth can be introduced ; and it never can begin with this too soon. The history and nature of plants is the next most pleasing study though far inferior to the first, for this important reason : our acquaintance with animals involves a moral feeling, and not one feeling only, but a vast chain of sym- pathies and affections, which, if not touched in early life, are seldom afterwards called forth with any degree of earnestness or warmth ; and for a woman to be insensible or indifferent to the happiness of the brute creation, is an idea too repulsive to be dwelt upon for a moment. There is, however, a sickly sensibility in- dulged in by some young ladies, which I should be the last to recommend. Many, for instance, will nurse and fondle animals, with- out ever taking the trouble to feed them. Others shrink away with loathing at the sight of pain, which, if they would but exert themselves to remove, might easily be reme- died. I remember a young girl with whom I was well acquainted, having watched a cat torment a mouse until she could bear it no longer, when at last, with a feeling of the ut- most repugnance to the act, she snatched up the poor lacerated mouse, and killed it in a moment On seeing her do this, two very delicate and estimable young ladies gave themselves up to shrieks and hysterics, al- though they had known for the previous half hour that the little helpless animal had been enduring the most cruel torture in the claws of the cat, and they had borne this knowledge with the greatest composure. It is not, then, a delicate shrinking from the- mere sight of pain, which constitutes that kindly feeling towards the animal creation, that forms so estimable a part of the female character; but that expansive sentiment of benevolence towards all the creatures of God's formation, which is founded on the principle of love, and which operates as a principle in prompting us to promote the good of all creatures that have life, and to promote it on the widest possible scale. But to return to the subject of botany. A woman who does not love flowers, suffers a great want in her supplies of healthy and natural enjoyment How could the poet Milton, when he pictured woman in her highest state of excellence, have employed our mother Eve, had he made her indifferent to the beauty of the plants of paradise, or negligent of the flowers which bloomed around her 1 Still, I must acknowledge that there is, to many minds, something the re- verse of attractive in the first aspect of the study of botany, as it is generally presented to our attention. In this I am supported by one of the most gifted of modern authors, when he speaks of the " ponderous nomen- clature" of botany having frightened many a youthful student back from the portals of this study. There are many persons now ad- vanced in life, who deeply regret their want of what is called a taste for botany, when the fault has not been in their natural taste, so much as in the form under which this study was introduced to their notice in youth ; and thus they have been shut out through the whole of life, from the pleasure of expatia- ting in a field, as boundless in its extent as inexhaustible in its attractions. These difficulties, however, are not insur- mountable to all ; and youth is unquestiona- THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. bly the season for forming an intimate ac- quaintance with this, the loveliest aspect of nature ; so that in after life, when duties are more imperative, and occupations more seri- ous, and there is consequently less time for minute investigation, every flower and every plant may be met as a member of a well- known family, and, as such, bear somewhat of the character of a familiar friend. It is the same with every part of the crea- tion, whether natural history, or botany, or geology, have occupied our attention, or chemistry, or electricity, that great mystery of the visible world, whose all-powerful agency, the most sublime as well as the most insignificant phenomena of nature are daily and hourly tending to develop, an early and intimate acquaintance with each and all of these, must so far enlighten and enlarge the mind, as to lead our thoughts beyond the narrow limits of material existence, up to that higher region of wonder and of love, where to behold is to admire to feel is to adore. From the consideration of the different ad- vantages arising from such studies as it is important should be pursued at an early pe- riod of life, we are necessarily led to ask, " What is the use of KNOWLEDGE in gener- al?" Nothing can well be mote vague than the notions popularly entertained of the meaning of knowledge. Dr. Johnson has called it "general illumination of mind." But, if I might be allowed to do so, I should prefer restricting my use of the word knowledge, to that acquaintance with facts, which, in con- nection with the proper exercise of a healthy mind, will necessarily lead to general illumi- nation. A knowledge of the world, there- fore, as I propose to use the expression, must consequently mean, a knowledge of such facts as the general habits of society develop. This is universally allowed to be a dan- gerous knowledge, beause it cannot be ac- quired without the risk of being frequently deceived by the false aspect which society assumes, and the still greater risk of having our moral being too deeply absorbed in the interest and excitement which the study itself affords. No one can obtain a know- ledge of the world, by being a mere specta- tor. It is, therefore, safer and happier to leave this study until the judgment is more matured, and the habits and principles more formed ; or rather I should say, to leave it as a study altogether. Time and experience teach us all it is necessary to know on this subject ; and even duty urges us forward on the theatre of life, when little enough pre- pared for the temptations and the conflicts we must there encounter. By absolute ne- cessity, then, we acquire as much knowledge of the world as any rational being needs de- sire, and that is just sufficient to enable us to judge of the consequences of certain princi- ples, or modes of action, as they operate upon the well-being of individuals, and of society at large. Destitute of this degree of worldly knowledge, we must ever be liable to make the most serious mistakes in applying the principle of benevolence, in forming our estimate of the moral condition of mankind, as well as in regulating our scale, of social and relative duty. A general knowledge of the political and social state of the country in which we live, and indeed of all countries, is of great impor- tance, not only to men, but to women. Nor let my fair readers be startled when I speak of the political state of countries. You have been accustomed to make history your study. An acquaintance with the most important eras in history is considered an essential part of a female education. And can it be less essential to know what events are taking place in your own times, than what trans- pired in past ages 1 Do not, however, mis- understand me on this important subject. Do not suppose it would add any embellish- ment to your conversation, for you to discuss what are called politic?, simply as such, es- pecially when, as in nine cases out of ten, you do not really understand what you are talking about Do not take up any question as belonging to your side, or your party, while ignorant what the principles of that party are. Above all, do not allow yourself CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 31 to grow warm in your advocacy of any par- ticular candidate for a seat in parliament, be- cause he is a handsome man or has made a fine speech. All this may supply an oppo- site party with food for scandal, or for jest, but has nothing at all to do with that patri- otic and deep feeling of interest in the happi- ness and prosperity of her own country, which a benevolent and enlightened woman must naturally entertain. Destitute as some women are of every spark of this feeling, it is but natural that their conversation should at times be both trifling and vapid ; and that when subjects of general importance are discussed, they should be too much occupied with a pattern of worsted work, even to listen. I one day heard a very accomplished and amiable young lady lamenting that she had nothing to talk about, except a subject which had been playfully forbidden, " Talk about the probability of a war," said I. " Why should I talk about that 1" she replied. " It is nothing to me whether there is war or not." Now, this was said in perfect sincerity, and yet the lady was a Christian woman, and one who would have been very sorry to be sus- pected of -not knowing the dates of most of the great battles recorded in history. I am perfectly aware that there are intri- cate questions, brought before our senate, which it may require a masculine order of intellect fully to understand. But there are others which may, and ought to engage the attention of every female mind, such as the extinction of slavery, the abolition of war in general, cruelty to animals, the punishment of death, temperance, and many more, on which, neither to know, nor to feel, is almost equally disgraceful. I must again observe, it is by no means necessary that we should talk much on these subjects, even if we do understand them ; but to listen attentively, and with real interest when they are discussed by able and liberal- minded men, is an easy and agreeable method of enlarging our stock of valuable knowledge ; and, by doing this when we are young, we shall go on with the tide of public events, so as to render ourselves intelligent companions in old age ; and when the bloom of youth is gone, and even animal spirits decline, we shall have our conversation left, for the en- tertainment and the benefit of our friends. For my own part, I know of no interest more absorbing, than that with which we listen to a venerable narrator of by-gone facts facts which have transpired under the ac- tual observation of the speaker, in which ha took a part, or which stirred the lives, and influenced the conduct, of those by whom he was surrounded. When such a person has been a lover of sterling truth, and a close ob- server of things as they really were in early youth, his conversation is such as sages listen to, and historians make the theme of their imperishable pages. Yet, such a companion every woman is capable of becoming ; and since old age is not rich in its attractions, is it not well worthy the attention of youth, to endeavor to lay up, as a provision for the fu- ture, such sterling materials for rational and lasting interest 1 It is worthy of observation, however, that such information can never be of half the value when collected in a vague and indefi- nite form. The lover of sterling truth alone is able to render the relation of facts of any real value. The mere story-teller, who paints the truth in his own colors, may amuse for an evening ; but unless we choose truth absolute truth, as our companion in early life, the foundation of our opinions, as well as of our principles, will be ever liable to give way. We must, therefore, cultivate a willingness to see things as they really are. Not as our friends do, or as our enemies do not see them ; but simply as they are, and, as such, to speak of them, without the bias of party feeling, or the coloring of our own selfishness. The local customs of the place in which we live, and the habits of thinking of the persons with whom We associate, will natural- ly, in the course of time, produce considera- ble effect upon our own views. But in youth, the mind is free to choose, open to conviction, uninfluenced by prejudice, and comparative- ly unoccupied by previous impressions. It 32 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. is, therefore, of the-utmost importance, in this early stage of life, to cultivate that love of truth which will enable us to see every ob- ject as it really is, and to see it clearly ; for there are vague impression?, and indefinite perception?, which create in the mind a suc- cession of shapeless images, as perplexing in their variety, as they are uncertain in their form. Of persons whose minds are thus occupied, it can scarcely be said that they love the truth, because they seldom endeavor to as- certain what the truth is ; and their conse- quent deviations from the exact line of recti- tude in thought and action, brings upon them, not unfrequently, the charge of falsehood, when they have all the while been true to the image floating before them, but which assum- ed a different character as often as interest or inclination clothed it in fresh colors. Vague and uncertain habits of thinking and talking in early life, almost necessarily lead to false conclusions ; nor is it the least part of the evil, that those who indulge them are extremely difficult to correct when wrong, or rather when not exactly right ; because conviction cannot be proved upon uncertain- ty. All we can say of such persons is, that they are as little wrong as right. We can- not help them. They are perpetually falling into difficulties, and, so long as they live, will be liable to incur the suspicion of falsehood. That a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, may be proved by the observation of every day. A little knowledge is generally more talked about than a great deal more dragged forward into notice, and, in short, more gloried in by its possessor. We will tal;o, as an instance, the subject of 'phrenolo- gy. Dabblers in this study who like the^clat of pronouncing upon the characters of their neighbors, as discovered through that opaque medium, the skull, are not a little pleased to entertain themselves and others with the phraseology of Gall and Spurzheim ; while, with an air of oracular wisdom, they tell how this person is covetous, another prone to kill, a third fond of music, and a fourth in the habit of making comparisons. Now, although a correct knowledge of the exact situation of these different organs in the head, is more difficult to attain than most young persons are aware of; yet, even this part of the stu- dy is mere play, when compared with that exercise of mind, which alone would justify any one, even the profoundest philosopher, in pronouncing upon individual character, according to the principles of phrenology. Would any of these fair oracles, for instance, be kind enough to tell us what would be the result, in summing up the elements of human character, where there was an extraordinary development of combativeness, connected with half as much benevolence, nine-tenths of the same amount of hope, one-third of self-esteem, three-fourths of causality, and one-third of constructiveness. And yet, cal- culations as intricate, as minute, and far more extensive than this, must be entered into, be- fore the science of phrenology, however true, can enable any individual to pronounce upon the character of another. And thu it is throughout. A little know- ledge makes people talk, a little more induces them to think ; and women, from the careless and superficial manner in which their studies are frequently carried on, are but too apt to be found among the class of talkers. But let us pause a moment, to inquire whether the smallness of their stock of knowledge is re- ally the cause why it is sometimes so unne- cessarily brought forward. Is not the evil of a deeper nature 1 and may it not arise from false notions popularly entertained respecting the real use of knowledge 1 I will not say there are any women who absolutely believe that the use of knowledge is to supply them with something to talk about ; but are we not warranted in suspecting that this is the rule by which the value of knowledge is too frequently estimated 1 Now, one simple view of this subject might settle the question at once, as to the desira- bleness, or even utility, of women bringing forward their knowledge for the purpose of display. It so happens, that few of our sex, under ordinary circumstances, have an op- portunity of acquiring as much general know- CLEVERNESS, LEARNING, KNOWLEDGE. 33 ledge as a man of common attainmerrts, or even as a mere boy. If we mix in country circles, the village schoolmaster has stores of knowledge far beyond our own ; and in the society of towns, the man of business, nay, even the mechanic, knows more than we do. The nature of their employments, the associ- ations they form, and the subjects which en- gage their attention, all tend to give to the minds of men in general, a clearness of un- derstanding on certain points, and an ac- quaintance with important facts, beyond what is possessed by one woman in a thousand ; though, at the same time, women have a vast advantage over them in this respect, that the liveliness and facility of their intel- lectual powers enable them to invest with interest many of the inferior and less im- portant topics of conversation. General knowledge, however, is not less important to them, than to men, in the effect it produces upon their own minds and feel- ings. A well-informed woman may generally be known, not so much by what she tells you, as by what jlhe does not tell you ; for she is the last to take pleasure in mere gos- sip, or to make vulgar allusions to the ap- pearance, dress, or personal habits, of her friends and neighbors. Her thoughts are not in these things. The train of her reflections goes not along with the eating, drinking, vis- iting, or scandal, of the circle in which she moves. She has a world of interest beyond her local associations ; and while others are wondering what is the price of her furniture, or where she bought her watch, she, perhaps, is mentally solving that important question, whether civilization ever was extinguished in a Christian country. Nor is it merely to be able to say, when asked, in what year any particular sovereign reigned, that knowledge is worth acquiring. Its highest use is to be able to assist on all occasions in the establishment of truth, by a clear statement of facts ; to say what expe- rience has proved ; and to overcome preju- dice by just reasoning. It enables us also to take expansive views of every subject upon which our minds can be employed, so as never to argue against general principles, from opposite impressions produced merely upon our own minds. As a further illustration of this narrow kind of reasoning, we will suppose a case. A well- meaning, but ignorant man, derives a consid- erable income from a sugar plantation in the West Indies, by which he supports a number of poor relations. He argues thus " It sla- very be abolished, it .will injure my profits ; and I shall no longer be able to support my relations. It is good that I should exercise my benevolent feelings through this channel ; consequently, the slave-trade must also be good. I will, therefore, neither vote for the abolition of slavery, nor give my countenance to those who do." A more truly enlightened man, though no more influenced by kindly feeling, would know, that it must always be right to uphold right principles, and that God may safely be trusted with the consequences to ourselves. Nor is it from our own personal feelings alone, that we become liable to this perver- sion of judgment, with regard to things in general. Prejudice has ever been found more infectious than the plague, and scarcely less fatal. We hear our friends speak warmly on subjects we do not understand. They argue vehemently, and our minds, from want of knowledge, are open to receive as truth, the greatest possible absurdities, which, in our turn, we embrace and defend, until they be- come more dear to us than truth itself. The probable conclusion is, that in the course of time, we prefer to remain in error, rather than be convinced that we have all the while been wrong. Thus, it is often ignorance alone which lays the foundation of many of those serious mistakes in opinion and con- duct, for which we have to bear all the blame, and suffer all the consequences, of moral cul- pability. Want of general knowledge is also a very sufficient reason why some persons, when they mix in good society, live in a state of perpetual fear lest their deficiencies should be found out Theirs is not that amiable modesty which arises from a sense of the 34 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. superiority of others ; for to admire our friends, or even our fellow-creatures, is al- ways a pleasurable sensation ; while a con- viction of our own ignorance of such topics as are generally interesting in good society, carries with it a feeling of disgraceful humil- iation, perfectly incompatible with enjoyment Uneasiness, timidity, and shyness, with an awkward shrinking from every office of re- sponsibility, or post Of distinction, are the unavoidable accompaniments of this convic- tion ; and from this* cause, how many oppor- tunities of extending our sphere of usefulness are lost ! How many opportunities of rational and lawful enjoyment, too, especially if, from a consciousness of our own inferiority, we refuse to associate with persons of better in- formation and more enlightened minds. Our sufferings are then of a twofold nature, arising from a sense of mortification at our loss, and from the fretfulness and irritation of temper which such privations naturally occasion. It is well, too, if envy does not steal in to poison the little comfort we might otherwise have left well if we do not look with evil eye upon the higher attainments of our friends well if, while we professedly admire, we do not throw out some hint that may tend to diminish their vmlue in the estimation of others. Thus, there is no end to that culpable want of knowledge, which must be the consequence of an idle or wasted youth. We may, and we necessarily must, learn much in after years by experience, observation, reading, and conversation. But we are then, perhaps, in middle age, only acquiring a bare knowledge of those facts which ought, in by-gone years, to have been forming our judgment, fixing our principles, and supplying our minds with intellectual food. If there is no calculation to be made of the evils arising from a want of knowledge, as little can we estimate the amount of good, of which knowledge lays the foundation. Per- haps one of its greatest recommendations to a woman, is the tendency it has to diffuse a calm over the ruffled spirit, and to supply subjects of interesting reflection, under cir- cumstances the least favorable to the acqui- sition of new ideas. Such is the position in society which many estimable women are called to fill, that unless they have stored their minds with general knowledge during the season of youth, they never have the opportunity of doing so again. How valuable, then, is such a store, to draw upon for thought, when the hand throughout the day is busily employed, and sometimes when the head is also weary ! It is then that knowledge not only sweetens labor, but often, when the task is ended, and a few social friends are met together, it conies forth un- bidden, in those glimpses of illumination which a well-informed, intelligent woman, is able to strike out of the humblest material. It is then that, without the slightest attempt at display, her memory helps her to throw in those apt allusions, which clothe the mogt fa- miliar objects in borrowed light, and make us feel, after having enjoyed her society, as if we had been introduced to a new, and more intellectual existence tnan we had enjoyed before. It is impossible for an ignorant, and con- sequently a short-sighted, prejudiced woman, to exercise this influence over us. We soon perceive the bounds of the narrow circle within which she reasons, with self ever in the centre ; we detect the opinions of others, in her own ; and we feel the vulgarity with which her remarks may turn upon ourselves, the moment we are gone. How different is the enjoyment, the repose we feel in the society of a well-informed wo- man, who has acquired in early youth the habit of looking beyond the little affairs of every-day existence of looking from mat- ter to mind from action to principle from time to eternity ! The gossip of society, that many-toned organ of discord, seldom reaches her ; even slander, which so often slays the innocent, she is in many cases able to disarm. Under all the little crosses and perplexities which necessarily belong to household care, she is able to look calmly at their comparative insignificance, and thus they can never dis- turb her peace ; while in all the pleasures of MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 35 intellectual and social intercourse, it is her privilege to give as bountifully as she re- ceives. It must not be supposed that the writer is one who would advocate, as essential to wo- man, any very extraordinary degree of intel- ectual attainment, especially if confined to one particular branch of study. " I should ike to excel in something," is a frequent, and, to some extent, laudable expression ; but in what does it originate, and to what does it tend 1 To be able to do a great many things tolerably well, is of infinitely more value to a woman, than to be able to excel in one. By the former, she may render herself generally useful ; by the latter, she may dazzle for an hour. By being apt, and tolerably well skilled in every thing, she may fall into any situation in life with dignity and ease by devoting her time to excellence in one, she may remain incapable of every other. So far as cleverness, learning, and know- ledge are conducive to woman's moral ex- cellence, they are therefore desirable, and no further. All that would occupy her mind to the exclusion of better things, all that would involve her in the mazes of flattery and ad- mira'Xon, all that would tend to draw away her thoughts from others and fix them on herself, ought to be avoided as an evil to her, however brilliant or attractive it may be in itself. CHAPTER IV. MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY As a picture which presents to the eye o) the beholder those continuous masses of light and shade usually recognised under the characteristic of breadth, though it may be striking, and sometimes even sublime in its effect, yet, without the more delicate touches of art, must ever be defective in the pleasure it affords ; so the female character, though invested with high intellectual endowments, must ever fail to charm, without at least a taste for music, painting, or poetry. The first of these requires no recommen- dation in the present day. Indeed, the danger is, that the fair picture which woman's charac- ter ought to present, should be broken up into that confusion pf petty lights and shades, which, in the phraseology of paintings, is said to destroy its effect as a whole. May we not carry on the similitude still further, and com. pare the more important intellectual endow- ments of human character to the broad lights and massive shadows of a picture ; music, to the richness and variety of its coloring ; painting, to correctness and beauty of its outline ; and poetry, to general harmony of the whole, consisting chiefly in the aerial or atmospheric tints which convey the idea of morning, noon, or evening, a storm, a calm, or any of the seasons of the year ; with all the varied associations which belong to each. I have said that music requires no recom- mendation in the present day, when to play like a professor ranks among the highest at- tainments of female education. Since, then, music is so universally regarded both by the wise and good, not only as lawful, but desira- ble, it remains to be considered under what circumstances the practice of it may be ex- pedient or otherwise. In the first place, "Have you what is called an ear for music V If you are not annoyed by discord, nor made to suffer pain by a false note, nor disturbed by errors in time, let no persuasion ever induce you to touch the keys of a piano, or the chords of a harp again. Perhaps you may reply, " But I am so fond of music." I question it not : for though difficult to be accounted for, many persons, who have no ear, are fond of music. Yet, why not, under such circumstances, be con- tent to be a listener for the rest of your lives, and thankful that there are others differently constituted, who are able to play for your amusement, and who play with ease in a style superior to what you would have at- tained by any amount of labor 1 All have not the same natural gifts. You, in your turn, may excel in something else; but as well might an automaton be made to dance, as a womun destitute of taste for music, be 36 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. taught to play with any hope of attaining excellence, or even of giving pleasure to her friends. It is possible that by an immense expenditure of time and money, a wooden figure might be so constructed, to dance so as to take the proper steps at the right time ; but the grace, the ease, indeed all that gives beauty to the movements of the dancer, must certainly be wanting. It is thus with music. By a fruitless waste of time and application, the hand may acquire the habit of touching the right keys ; but all which constitutes the soul of music must be wanting to that per- formance, where the ear is not naturally at- tuned to "the concord of sweet sounds." It is a good thing to be a pleased and at- tentive listener, even in music- And far happier sometimes is the unpretending girl, who sits apart silently listening to another's voice, than any one of the anxious group of candidates for promotion to the music-stool, whose countenances occasionally display the conflicting emotions of hope and fear, tri- umph and disappointment. There are, however, among men, and wo- men too, certain individuals whose souls may be said to be imbued with music as an in- stinct It forms a part of their existence, and they only live entirely in an atmosphere of sound. To such it would be a cold philoso- phy to teach the expediency of giving up the cultivation of music altogether, because of the temptations it involves ; and yet to such in- dividuals, above all others music is the most dangerous. To them it may be said, that, like charity, though in a widely different sense, it caters a rmdlilude of sins ; for such is its influence over them, that while carried away by its allurements, they scarcely see or feel like moral agents, so as to distinguish good from evil ; and thus they mistake for an intellectual, nay, even sometimes for a spirit- ual enjoyment, the indulgence of that passion, which is but too earthly in its associations. I will not say that music is a species of in- toxication, but I do think that an inordinate love of it may be compared to intemperance, in" the fact of its inciting the passions of the human mind so much more frequently to evil than to good. We are warranted by the Ian- guage of Scripture to believe, that music is a powerfully pervading principle in the uni- verse of God. The harmony of the spheres is figuratively set forth under the idea of the morning stars singing together, and the Apoc- alyptic vision abounds with allusions to ce- lestial choirs. Indeed, so perfectly in unison is music with our ideas of intense and ele- vated enjoyment, that we can scarcely ima- gine heaven without the hymning of the praises of the Most High by the voices of an- gels and happy spirits. But let it be remem- bered, that all this is in connection with a pu- rified state of being. It is where the serpent sin has never entered, or after he has been destroyed. So long as the evil heart is unsub- dued so long as there are desperate passions to awaken so long as the hand of man is raised against his brother so long as the cup of riotous indulgence continues to be filled so long as .temptation lurks beneath the rose- leaves of enjoyment, music will remain to be a dangerous instrument in the hands of those who are by nature and by constitution its willing and devoted slaves. Even to such, however, I would fain be- lieve, that when kept under proper restric- tions, and regulated by right principles, music may have its use. There can be no need to advise such persons .to cultivate, when young, their talent for music. The danger is, that they will cultivate no other. Between these individuals, and the per- sons first described, there is a numerous class of human beings, of whom it may be said, that they possess by nature a little taste for music ; and to these the cultivation of it may be dssirable, or otherwise, according to their situation in life, and the views they enter- tain of the use of accomplishments in general. If the use of accomplishments be to make a show of them in society, then a little skill in music is certainly not worth its cost But if the object of a daughter is to soothe the weary spirit of a father when he returns home from the office or the counting-house, where he has been toiling for her maintenance ; to beguile a mother of her cares ; or to charm MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 37 a suffering sister into forgetfulness of her pain ; then a very little skill in music may often be made to answer as noble a purpose as a great deal ; and never does a daughter appear to more advantage, than when she cheerfully lays aside a fashionable air, and strums over, for more than the hundredth time, some old ditty which her father loves. To her ear it is possible it may be altogether divested of the slightest charm. But of what importance is that ] The old man listens un- til tears are glistening in his eyes, for he sees again the home of his childhood he hears his father's voice he feels his mother's wel- come all things familiar to his heart in early youth come back to him with that long re- membered strain ; and, happiest thought of all ! they are revived by the playful fingers of his own beloved child. The brother too the prodigal the alien from the paths of peace ; in other lands, that fireside music haunts his memory. The voice of the stran- ger has no melody for him. His heart is chilled. He says, " I will arise and go to my father's home," where a welcome, a heart- warm welcome, still awaits him. Yet so wide has been the separation, that a feeling of estrangement still remains, and neither words, nor looks, nor affectionate embraces can make the past come back unshadowed, or dispel the cloud which settles upon every heart. The sister feels this. She knows the power of music, and when the day is closing in, that first strange day of partial reconcilia- tion, she plays a low soft air. Her brother knows it well. It is the evening hymn they used to sing together in childhood, when they had been all day gathering flowers. His manly voice is raised. Once more it mingles with the strain. Once more the parents and the children, the sister and the brother, are united as in days gone by. It requires no extraordinary skill in exe- cution to render music subservient to the purposes of social and domestic enjoyment ; but it does require a willing spirit, and a feel- ing mind, to make it tell upon the sympathies and affections of our nature. There is a painful spectacle occasionally exhibited in private life, when a daughter re- fuses to play for the gratification of her own family, or casts aside with contempt the mu- sic they prefer; yet when a stranger joins the circle, and especially when many guests are met, she will sit down 'to the piano with the most obliging air imaginable, and play with perfect good-will whatever air the com- pany may choose. What must the parents of such a daughter feel, if they recollect the fact, that it was at their expense their child acquired this pleasing art, by which she ap- pears anxious to charm any one but them 1 And how does the law of love operate with her ! Yet, music is the very art, which by its mastery over the feelings and affections, calls forth more tenderness than any other. Surely, then, the principle of love ought to regulate the exercise of this gift, in propor- tion to its influence upon the human heart Surely, it ought not to be cultivated as the medium of display, so much as the means of home enjoyment ; not so much as a spell to charm the stranger, or one who has no other link of sympathy with us, as a solace to those we love, and a tribute of gratitude and affection to those who love us. With regard to the application and use of the art of painting, or perhaps we ought to say drawing, there is a very serious mistake generally prevailing among young persons, as well as among some who are more ad- vanced in life. Drawing, as well as music, is not only considered as something to enter- tain company with, but its desirableness as an art is judged of precisely by the estimate which is formed of those pieces of polished pasteboard brought home from school, and exhibited as specimens of genius in the de- lineation of gothic arches, ruined cottages, and flowers as flat and dry as the paper on which they are painted. The use of draw- ing, in short, is almost universally judged of among young ladies, by what it enables them to produce ; and no wonder, when such are the productions, that its value should be held rather cheap. It has often been said with great truth, that the first step towards excellence in the THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. art of drawing, is to learn to see ; and cer- tainly, nothing can be more correct than that the quickening of the powers of observation, the habit of regarding, not only the clear out- line, but the relative position of objects, with the extension of the sphere of thought which is thus obtained, is of infinitely more value in forwarding the great work of intellectual ad- vancement, than all the actual productions of female artists since the world began. There are many very important reasons why drawing should be especially recom- mended to the attention of young persons, and I am the more anxious to point thpm out, because, among the higher circles of so- ciety, it appears to be sinking into disrepute, in comparison with music. Among such persons, it is beginning to be considered as a sort of handicraft, or as something which artists can do better than ladies. In this they are perfectly right; but how then are they to reap the advantage to themselves, which I am about to describe as resulting from an attentive cultivation of the graphic art] Among these advantages, I will begin with the least It is quiet. It disturbs no one ; for however defective the performance may be, it does not necessarily, like music, jar upon the sense. It is true, it may when seen of- fend the practised eye ; but we can always draw in private, and keep our productions to ourselves. In addition to this, it is an em- ployment which beguiles the mind of many cares, because it never can be merely me- chanical. The thoughts must go along with it, for the moment the attention wanders, the hand ceases from its operations, owing to the necessity there is that each stroke should be differer.t from any which has previously been made. Under the pressure of anxiety, in seasons of Detracted suspense, or when no effort can be made to meet an expected calamity, especia'ty when that calamity is exclusively our owr,. drawing is of all other occupations the one nnst calculated to keep the mind from brooding upon self, and to maintain that general cheerfulness which is a part of social and domestic duty. Drawing, unlike most other arts, may be taken up at any time of life, though certainly with less prospect of success than when it has been pursued in youth. It can also be laid down and resumed, as circumstance or inclination may direct, and that without any serious loss ; for while the hand is employed in other occupations, the eye may be learn- ing useful lessons to be worked out on some future day. But the great, the wonder-working power of the graphic art, is that by which it enables us to behold, as by a new sense of vision, the beauty and the harmony of the creation. Many have this faculty of perception in their nature, who never have been taught, perhaps not allowed, to touch a pencil, and who re- main to the end of their lives unacquainted with the rules of painting as an art To them this faculty affords but glimpses of the ideal, in connection with the real; but to such as have begun to practise the art, by first learning to see, each succeeding day un- folds some new scene in that vast picture, which the ever- varying aspect of nature pre- sents. As the faculty of hearing, in the sav- age Indian is sharpened to an almost incied- ible degree of acuteness, simply from the fre- quent need he has for the use of that partic- ular sense ; so the eye of the painter, from the habit of regarding every object with refer- ence to its position and effect, beholds ten thousand points of interest, which the un- practised in this art never perceive. There is not a shadow on the landscape, not a gleam of sunshine in the fields, not a leaf in the forest, nor a flower on the lea, not a sail upon the ocean, nor a cloud in the sky, but they all form parts of that unfading picture, upon which his mind perpetually expatiates without satiety or weariness. It is a frequent complaint with travellers, that they find the scenery around them in- sipid ; but this can never occur to the artist, through whatever country he may roam. A turn in the road, with a bunch of furze on one side, and a stunted oak on the other, is sufficient to arrest his attention, and occupy a page in his sketch-book. A willowy brook MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 39 in the deep meadows, with cattle grazing on its banks, is the subject of another. The tat- tered mendicant is a picture, of himself; or the sturdy wagoner with his team, or the sol- itary orphan sitting in the porch of the vil- lage-church. Every group around the door of the inn, every party around the ancient elm in the centre of the hamlet, every beast of burden feeding by the way-side, has to him a beauty and a charm, which his art en- ables him to revive and perpetuate. It is the same when he mingles in society. Hundreds and thousands of human beings may pass by the common observer without exciting a single thought or feeling, beyond their relative position with regard to himself. But the painter sees in almost every face a picture. He beholds a grace in almost every attitude, a scene of interest in every group ; and, while his eye is caught by the classic beauty of an otherwise insignificant counte- nance, he arrests it in the position where light and shadow are most harmoniously blended ; and, behold ! it lives again beneath his touch another, yet the same. In every object, however familiar in itself, or unattractive in other points of view, the painter perceives at once what is striking, characteristic, harmonious, or graceful ; and thus, while associating in the ordinary affairs of life, he feels himself the inhabitant of a world of beauty, from which others are shut out Would that we could dwell with more satisfaction upon this ideal existence, as it affects the morals of the artist's real life ! Whatever there may be defective here, how- ever, as regards the true foundation of hap- piness, is surely not attributable to the art it- self; but to the necessity under which too many labor, of courting public favor, and sometimes of sacrificing the dignity of their profession to its pecuniary success. Nor is it an object of desirable attainment to women in general, that they should study the art of painting to this extent. Amply sufficient for all their purposes, is the habit of drawing from natural objects with correct- ness and facility. Copying from other draw- ings, though absolutely necessary to the learn- er, is but the first step towards those innu- merable advantages which arise from an easy and habitual use of the pencil. Yet here how many stop, and think their education in the graphic art complete ! They think also, what is most unjust of drawing, that it is on- ly the amusement of an idle hour, incapable of producing any happier result than an ex- act foe-simile of the master's lesson. No wonder, that with such ideas, they should evince so little inclination to continue this pursuit on lemving school. For though it is a common thing to hear young ladies exclaim, how much they should like to sketch from nature, and how much they should like to take likenesses, it is very rarely that we find one really willing to take a hundredth part of the pains which are necessary to the at- tainment even of mediocrity in either of these departments. That it is in reality easier, and far more pleasant, to sketch from nature, than from another drawing, is allowed by all who have made the experi- ment on right . principles ; which, however, few young persons are able to do, because they are so seldom instructed in what, if I might be allowed the expression, I should call the philosophy of picture-making, or^in other words, the relation of cause and effect in the grouping and general management of objects, so as to unite a number of parts into a perfect and pleasing whole. Perspective is the first step in this branch of philosophy, but the nature and effect of light and shade, with the proportions and re- lations of different objects, and harmony, that grand feature of beauty, must all have be- come subjects of interest and observation, be- fore we can hope to sketch successfully ; and especially, before we can derive that high degree of intellectual enjoyment from the art of painting, which it is calculated to afford. Yet all these, by close and frequent attention, may be learned from nature itself, though an early acquaintance with the rules of art will greatly assist the understanding in this school of philosophy. Among the numerous mistakes made by 40 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. young people on the subject of drawing, none is a greater hindrance to their efforts, than an idea which generally prevails, that not only drawing itself, but each different branch of the art, requires a natural genius for that particular study. Thus, while one excuses herself from drawing because she has no genius for it ; another tells you, that although she can draw landscapes with great facility, she has no genius for heads. Now, if genius be, as Madame de Stael informs us, M en- thusiasm operating upon talent," I freely grant that it is essential to success in this, as well as every other art You must not only learn it, but you must absolutely loi? it, was the frequent expression of a very clever mas- ter to his pupil. And it is this very love, which of itself will carry on the young student to any point of excellence, which it is desir- able for a woman to attain. It is true, there are greater difficulties to some than to others ; just as the eye is more or less acute in its perceptions, or the com- munication between that and the hand more or less easy. Yet, with the same amount' of genius and a little more patience, with a little more humility too, for that has more to do with success in painting than the inexperi- en%ed are aware of, these difficulties may easily be overcome. I have said that humility is necessary to our success, and it operates precisely in this manner. It always happens that the eye has been in training for observation, long be- fore the hand begins to trace so much as a bare outline of what the eye perceives. Thus, our first attempts at imitation fall so far short, not only of the real, but also of the ideal which the mind retains, that if praise or ad- miration have had any thing to do with inci- ting us to draw, the mortification which en- sues will probably be more than a young art- ist can endure. She must, therefore, be humble enough to be willing to proceed with- out praise, sometimes without commendation, and occasionally with a more than comfort- able share of ridicule, as the reward of her first endeavors; all which might possibly be borne with equanimity, if she did not herself perceive a fearful want of resemblance to the thing designed. ( The practice of drawing the human face and figure, is a sufficient illustration of this fact. For one who succeeds in this branch of drawing, there are twenty who succeed in landscapes; because, those who fail assure you, it is so much more difficult to draw faces and figures. This statement, however, is al- together unsupported by reason, since it re- quires just the same use of the eye and the hand, and just the same exercise of the mind, to draw one object as another ; and provided only the object drawn is stationary, it is quite as easy to trace with accuracy the outline of a head, as of a tree, or a mountain. There is, however, a wide difference in the result. By a slight deviation from the true outline of a mountain, no great injury to the general effect of a landscape is produced ; while the same degree of deviation from the outline of a face, will sometimes entirely de- stroy, not only the likeness, but the beauty of the whole. Even a branch of a tree, and sometimes a whole tree, may be omitted in a landscape ; but if a nose, or an eye, were found wanting in the drawing of a face, it would be difficult to treat the performance with any thing like gravity. Thus, then, the vanity of the young stu- dents is more severely put to the test in delin- eations of the human form, than it can be in landscape drawing ; and thus they are apt to say, they have no genius for heads or fig- ures, because their love of excellence, though sufficient for the purposes of landscape draw- ing, is not strong enough to support them under the mortification of having produced a badly drawn face or figure. It is not the least among the advantages of drawing, that it induces a habit of perpet- ually aiming at ideal excellence ; in other t words, that it draws the mind away from considering the grosser qualities of matter, to the cpntemplation of beauty as an abstract idea ; that it gives a definiteness to our no- tions of objects in general, and enables us to describe, with greater accuracy, the character and appearance of every thing we see. MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 41 Nor ought. we by any means to overlook the value of that which th,e pencil actually produces. Sketches of scenery, however defective as works of art, are among the pre- cious memorials of which time, the great de- stroyer, is unable to deprive us. In them the traveller lives again, through all the joys and sorrows of his distant wanderings. He breathes again the atmosphere of that far world which his eye will never more behold. He treads again the mountain-path where his step was never weary. He sees the sun- shine on the snowy peaks which rise no more to him. He hears again the shout of joyous exultation, when it bursts from hearts as young and buoyant as his own ; and he remembers, at the same time, how it was with him in those by-gone days, when, for the moment, he was lifted up above the grovelling cares of every- day existence. But, above all, the art which preserves to us the features of the loved and lost, ought to be cultivated as a means of natural and enduring gratification. It is curious to look back to the portrait of infancy, or even youth, when the same countenance is stamped with the deep traces of experience, when the ven- erable brow is ploughed with furrows, and the temples are shaded with scattered, locks of silvery hair. It is interesting deeply in- teresting, to behold the likeness of some dis- tinguished character, with whose mind we have long been acquainted, through the me- dium of his works ; but the beloved counte- nance, whose every line of beauty was min- gled with our young affections, when this can be made to live before us, after death has done his fearful work, and the grave has claimed its own we may well say, in the language of the poet, of that magic skill which has such power over the past, as to call up buried images, and clothe them again in beau- ty and in youth, " Bless'd be the art that can immortalize, The art that baffles Time's tyrannic claim To quench it." Beyond these, however, there are uses in the art of drawing so well worthy the consid- eration of every young woman of enlighten- ed mind, that we cannot too earnestly recom- mend this occupation to their attention, even although it should be at some sacrifice of that labyrinthine toil of endless worsted-work, with which, in the case of modern young ladies, both head and hand appear to be so perseveringly employed. I freely grant the charm there is in weaving together the many tints of German wool, but what does this amusement do for the mind, except to keep it quiet, and not always that ] Now, the sub- stitute I would propose for this occupation, is equally pleasing in the variety of colors employed, and yet calculated to be highly beneficial in its influence upon the mind, by increasing its store of knowledge, and sup- plying a perpetual source of rational interest, even at times when the occupation itself can- not well be carried on. My proposition, then, is this : that, in pur- suing the study of botany, instead of the un- attractive horlus siccus, which pleases no one but the scientific beholder, correct and natu- ral drawings should be made of every speci- men, just as it appears when growing, or when freshly gathered. Instead of the colorless, distorted, hot-pressed specimens, which the botanist now displays, to the utter contempt of all uninitiated in his lore, we should then have beautiful and imperishable pictures of graceful, delicate, or curious plants, looking just as they did .when the mountain-wind blew over them, or when the woodland stream crept in among their thousand stems, and kissed the drooping blossoms that hung upon its banks. We might then have them placed before us in all their natural loveliness, either the flower, the branch, or the entire plant ; and sometimes, to render the picture more complete, the characteristic scenery by which it is usually surrounded. But if in botany the practice of this art is so desirable, how much more so does it be- come in entomology, where the study can scarcely be carried on without a sacrifice of life most revolting to the female mind. What beautiful specimens might we not 42 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. have of the curious caterpillar, with a branch of the tree on which it feeds ; then the larva and its silken bed ; and lastly, the splendid butterfly, whose expanded wings no cruel touch could ruffle ; all forming pictures of the most interesting and delightful character, and powerfully contrasted in the associations they would excite, with those regular rows of moths and beetles pricked on paper, which our juvenile collectors now exhibit It may be said, that even such specimens of insects could scarcely be obtained without some sacrifice of life or liberty ; but we all know that when the eye and the hand are habituated to catch the likeness of any object, it is done with increasing facility each time the experiment is made, until a comparative- ly slight observation of the general appear- ance, position, and characteristic features of the living model, is sufficient for the artist in the completion of his likeness. The same facility of delineation would as- sist our researches through the whole range of natural history. By such means we should not only be supplied with endless amuse- ment, but might at the same time be adding to our store of useful knowledge. We should not only be making ourselves better acquainted with the poetry of nature, but with its reality too. For what is there, either practical or real, in the specimens of plants and insects as we generall/find them ? Real they unquestionably are, in one sense, as the mummy is a real man ; but who would point to that pitiful vestige of mortality as exhibit- ing the real characteristics of a human being 1 It seems to me a perfectly natural subject of repulsion, when the poet exclaims " Nor would I like to spread My thin and withered face, The hortus siccus, pale and dead, A mummy of my race." And few there are who would not prefer to such miserable memorials, as actually more real, a well-painted likeness of a departed friend, with the expression of countenance, the dress, the position, and the circumstances with which the memory of that friend was associated. Drawing is, unfortunately, one of those accomplishments which are too frequently given up at the time of life when they might be most useful to others, when they might really be turned to good account, in that early expansion and development of mind, which belong exclusively to woman in her maternal capacity ; but as this view of the subject belongs more properly to a later stage of the present work, we will pass on to ask, In what degree of estimation poetry is, and ought to be held, by the daughters of Eng- land in the present day ? There have been eras in our history, when poetry assumed a more than reasonable sway over the female mind ; when an ac- quaintance with the Muses was considered essential to a polished education, and when the very affectation of poetic feeling proved how high a value was attached to the reality. It would be useless now to speak of the ab- surdities into which the young and sensitive were often betrayed by this extreme of pub- lic taste. Such times are gone by, and the opposite extreme is now the tendency of popular feeling. It is not to be wondered at that this should be the case with men ; be- cause, as a nation, our fathers, husbands, sons, and brothers are becoming more and more involved in the necessity of providing for mere animal existence. No wonder, ^hen, that in our teeming cities poetry should be compelled to hide her diminished head ; or that even, pursuing the man of business home to his suburban villa, she should leave him to his stuffed armchair, in the arms of that heavy, after-dinner sleep, which so frequently succeeds to his short and busy day of unremitting struggle and excitement Nor is this all. If poetry should seek the quiet fields, as in the days of their pastoral beauty, even from these, her green and flow- ery haunts, she is scared away by the steam- ing torrent, the reeking chimney, and the fiery locomotive ; while on the wide ocean, where her ancient realm was undisputed, her silvery trace upon the bosom of the deep waters is now ploughed up by vulgar paddles ; and all the voiceless mystery of " viewless winds," MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 43 which in the old time held the minds of ex- pectant thousands under their command, is now become a thing of no account a by- word, or a jest I speak not with childish or ignorant re- pining of these things. We are told by po- litical economists that it is good they should be so, and I presume not to dispute the fact. Yet, surely, if it be the business of man to give up the strength of his body, the energy of his mind, and the repose of his soul, for his country's prosperity or his own ; it is for woman, who labors under no such press- ing necessity, to make a stand against the encroachments of this popular tendency, I had almost said, this national disease. What is poetry ? is a question which has been asked a thousand times, and perhaps never clearly answered. I presume not to suppose my own definition more happy than others ; but in a work* already before the public, I have been at some pains to place this subject in a point of view at once clear and attractive. My idea of poetry as ex- plained in this work, and it remains to be the same, is, that it is best understood by that chain of association which connects the intel- lects with the affections ; so that whatever is so far removed from vulgarity, as to excite ideas of sublimity, beauty, or tenderness, may be said to be poetical ; though the force of such ideas must depend upon the man- ner in which they are presented to the mind, as well as to the nature of the mind itself. When the character of an individual is deeply imbued with poetic feeling, there is a corresponding disposition to look beyond the dull realities of common life, to the ideal relation of things, as they connect them- selves with our passions and feelings, or with the previous impressions we have received of loveliness or grandeur, repose or excite- ment, harmony or beauty, in the universe around us. This disposition, it must be granted, has been in some instances a for- midable obstacle to the even tenor of the * The Poetry of Life. wise man's walk on earth ; but let us not, while solicitous to avoid the abuse of poetic feeling, rush into the opposite excess of neg- lecting the high -and heaven-born principle altogether. It is the taste of the present times to invest the material with an immeasurable extent of importance beyond the ideal. It is the ten- dency of modern education to instil into the youthful mind the necessity of knowing, ra- ther than the advantage of feeling. And, to a certain extent, " knowledge is power ;" but neither is knowledge all that we live for, nor power all that we enjoy. There are deep mysteries in the book of nature which all can feel, but none will ever understand, until the veil of mortality shall be withdrawn. There are stirrings in the heart of man which con- stitute the very essence of his being, and which power can neither satisfy nor subdue. Yet this mystery reveals more truly than the clearest proofs, or mightiest deductions of science, that a master-hand has been for ages, and is still at work, above, beneath, and around us ; and this moving principle is forever reminding us, that, in our nature, we inherit the germs of a future existence, over which time has no influence, and the grave no victory.* If, then, for man it be absolutely necessary that he should sacrifice the poetry of his na- ture for the realities of material and animal existence, for woman there is no excuse for woman, whose whole life, from the cradle to the grave, is one of feeling, rather than of action ; whose highest duty is so often to suffer, and be still ; whose deepest enjoy- ments are all relative ; who has nothing, and is nothing, of herself; whose experience, if unparticipated, is a total blank ; yet, whose world of interest is wide as the realm of hu- manity, boundless as the ocean of life, and enduring as eternity ! For woman, who, in her inexhaustible sympathies, can live only in the existence of another, and whose very smiles and tears are not exclusively her own for woman to cast away the love of poetry, * The Poetry of Life. 44 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. is to pervert from their natural course the sweetest and loveliest tendencies of a truly feminine mind, to destroy the brightest charm which can adorn her intellectual character, to blight the fairest rose in her wreath of youth- ful beauty. A woman without poetry is like a land- scape without sunshine. We see every ob- ject as distinctly as when the sunshine is upon it; but the beauty of the whole is wanting the atmospheric tints, the harmony of earth and sky, we look for in vain ; and we feel that though the actual substance of hill and dale, of wood and water, are the same, the spirituality of the scene is gone. A woman without poetry ! The idea is a paradox ; for what single subject has ever been found so fraught with poetical associa- tions as woman herself! " Woman, with her beauty, and grace, and gentleness, and fulness of feeling, and depth of affection, and her blushes of purity, and the tones and looks which only a mother's heart can inspire." The little encouragement which poetry meets with in the present day, arises, I ima- gine, out of its supposed opposition to utility ; and certainly, if to eat and to drink, to dress as well or better than our neighbors, and to amass a fortune in the shortest possible space of time, be the highest aim of our existence, then the less we have to do with poetry the better. But may we not be mistaken in the ideas we habitually attach to the word util- ity ? There is a utility of material, and an- other of immaterial things. There is a utility in calculating our bodily wants, and our re- sources, and in regulating our personal ef- forts in proportion to both ; but there is a higher utility in sometimes setting the mind free, like a bird that has been caged, to spread its wings, and soar into the ethereal world. There is a higher utility in some- times pausing to feel the power which is in the immortal spirit to search out the principle of beauty, whether it bursts upon us with the dawn of rosy morning, or walks at gorgeous noon across the hills and valleys, or lies, at evening's dewy close, enshrined within a folded flower. It is good, and therefore it must be useful, to see and to feel that the all-wise Creator has set the stamp of degradation only upon those things which perish in the using; but that all those which enlarge and elevate the soul, all which afford us the highest and purest enjoyment, from the loftiest range of sublimity, to the softest emotions of tender- ness and love, are, and must be, immortal. Yes, the mountains may be overthrown, and the heavens themselves may melt away, but all the ideas with which they inspired us their vastness and their grandeur, will remain. Every flower might fade from the garden of earth, but would beauty, as an es- sence, therefore cease to exist! Even love might fail us here. Alas ! how often does it fail us at our utmost need ! But the principle of love is the same ; and there is no human heart so callous as not to respond to the lan- guage of the poet, when he says " They sin who tell us love can die Its holy flame for ever burneth, From heaven it came, to heaven returneth ; Too oft on earth a troubled guest, At times deceived, at times opprest, It here is tried and purified, . And hath in heaven its perfect rest; It sowelh here with toil and care, But the harvest-time of love is there." All these ideas are excited, and all these impressions are made upon the mind through the medium of poetry. By poetry, I do not mean that vain babbling in rhyme, which finds no echo, either in the understanding or the heart. By poetry, I mean that ethereal fire, which touched not the lips only, but the soul of Milton, when he sung of " Man's first disobedience," and which has inspired all who ever walked the same enchanted ground, from the father of poetry himself, down to ' The simple bard, rough at the rustic plough." Thousands have felt this principle of poetry within them, who yet have never learned to lisp in numbers ; and perhaps they are the wisest of thoir class, for they have thus the full enjoyment which poetic feeling affords, MUSIC, PAINTING, AND POETRY. 45 without the disappointment which so fre- quently attends upon the efforts of those who renture to commit themselves in verse. Men of business, whose hearts and minds are buried in their bales of goods, and who know no relaxation from the office or the counter, except what the daily newspaper affords, are apt to conclude that poetry does nothing for them ; because it never keeps their accounts, prepares their dinner, nor takes charge of their domestic affairs. Now, though I should be the last person to recom- mend poetry as a substitute for household economy, or to put even the brightest ema- nations of genius in the place of domestic duty, I do not see why the two should not exist together ; nor am I quite convinced that, although a vast proportion of mankind have lost their relish for poetry, it would not in reality be better for them to be convinced by their companions of the gentler sex, that poetry, so far from being incompatible with social or domestic comfort, is capable of being associated with every rational and lawful en- joyment. Yes, it is better for every one to have their minds elevated, rathed than degraded raised up to a participation in thoughts and feelings in which angels might take a part, rather than chained down to the grovelling cares of mere corporeal existence ; and never do we feel more happy than when, in the performance of any necessary avocation, we look beyond the gross material on which we are employed to those relations of thought and feeling, that connect the act of duty which occupies our hands with some being we love, that teach us to realize, while thus engaged, the smile of gratitude which is to constitute our reward, or the real benefit that act will be the means of conferring, even when no gratitude is there. What man of cultivated mind, who has ever tried the experiment, would choose to live with a woman, whose whole soul was absorbed in the strife, the tumult, the perpet- ual discord which constant occupation in the midst of material things so inevitably pro- duces ; rather than with one whose attention, equally alive to practical duties, had a world of deeper feeling in her " heart of hearts," with which no selfish, worldly, or vulgar thoughts could mingle ? It is not because we love poetry, that we must be always reading, quoting, or compos- ing it. Far otherwise. For that bad taste, which would thus abuse and misapply so sa- cred a gift, is the very opposite of poetical. The love of poetry, or in other words, the experience of deep poetic feeling, is rather a principle, which, while it inspires the love of beauty in general, forgets not the beauty of fitness and order ; and therefore can never sanction that which is grotesque or out of place. ' It teaches us, that nothing which of- fends the feelings of others can be estimable or praiseworthy in ourselves ; for it is only in reference to her association with others, that woman can be in herself poetical. She may even fill a book with poetry, and not be poetical in her own character ; because she may at the same time be selfish, vain, and worldly-minded. To have the mind so imbued with poetic feeling that it shall operate as a charm upon herself and others, woman must be lifted out of self, she must see in every thing material a relation^an essence, and an end, beyond its practical utility. She must- regard the little envyings, bickerings, and disputes about com- mon things, only as weeds in the pleasant garden of life, bearing no comparison in im- portance with the loveliness of its flowers. She must forget even her own personal at- tractions, in her deep sense of the beauty of the whole created universe, and she musl lose the very voice of flattery to herself, in her own intense admiration of what is excel- lent in others. This it is to be poetical ; and I ask again, whether it is not good, in these practical and busy times, that the Daughters of England should make a fresh effort to retain that high-toned spirituality of character, which has ever been the proudest distinction of their sex, in order that they may possess that influence over the minds of men, which the intellectual and the refined alone are ca- pable of maintaining 1 46 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. Let them look for a moment at the condi- tion of woman wherever this high tone of character has been wanting, where she has been identified merely with material things, and, as a necessary consequence, regarded as a soulless and degraded being, essential to society only in her ministration to the general good of man. But we close the scene ere it is fully unfolded. The Daughters of Eng- land must feel within themselves that a high- er and a nobler destiny is theirs. CHAPTER V. TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. IN the cursory survey we have now taken of what may properly be called the intellect- lectual groundwork of the female character, our attention has been directed not only to those scholastic attainments which are gen- erally comprehended in a good education, but to that general knowledge, which can only be acquired by after-study, by observa- tion, oy reading, and by association with good society. All these, however, are but the materials of character, materials altogether useless, and sometimes worse than useless, without the operation of a master-power to select, im- prove, and turn them to the best account With men, this power is most frequently self- interest with women it is that bias of feel- ing towards what they" are most inclined to love, which is generally recognised under the name of taste ; and both these principles be- gin to exercise their influence long before the mind has attained any high degree of intel- lectual cultivation, and long before we are aware of our own motives. I have called this principle in woman, taste, because so far as it is biassed by the affections, taste in- volves a moral ; and it is a peculiar feature in the female character, that few things are esteemed which do not recommend them- selves in some way or other to the affection?. Thus, women are often said to be deficient in judgment, simply from this reason, that judgment is the faculty by which we are en- abled to decide what is intrinsically best, while taste only influences us so far as to choose what is most agreeable to our own feelings. It is no uncommon thing among young women, to hear them say, they like a thing they do not know why nay, so warm are their expressions, one would be led to sup- pose their preference arose from absolute love, and yet, " The reason why, they cannot tell." It is that habitual tendency of feeling or tone of mind, which I have called taste, that de- cides their choice; and it is thus that our moral worth or dignity depends upon the ex- ercise of good taste, in the selection we make of the intellectual materials we work with in the formation of character, and the general arrangement of the whole, so as to render the trifling subservient to the more important,, and each estimable according to the purpose for which it is used. I am aware that religious principle is the only certain test by which character can' be tried ; but I am speaking of things as they are, not as they ought to be ; and I wish to prove the great importance of taste, by show- ing that it is a principle busily at work in di- recting the decisions of the female mind on points supposed to be too trifling for the oper- ation of religious feeling, and often before any definite idea of religion has been formed. It is strictly in subservience to religion, that I would speak of good taste as being of ex- treme importance to woman ; because it serves her purpose in all those little varia- tions of human life, which are too sudden in their occurrence, and too minute in them- selves, for the operation of judgment; but which at the same time constitute so large a sum of woman's experience. It may be said, that the rules of good taste are so arbitrary, that no one can fully under- stand them. I can only repeat, *hat I have said on this subject in " The Poetry of Life," and I think the rule is sufficient for women TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. 47 in general. It is, that the majority of opinion among those who are best able to judge, may safely be considered as most in accordance with good taste. Thus, when your taste has received from your parents a particular bias, which you are afterwards led to suspect is not a correct one, inquire with all respect, whether, on that particular subject, your pa- rents are the persons best qualified to judge. Or when you find in society that any thing is universally approved or condemned, before accommodating your own taste to this exhi- bition of popular feeling, ask whether the judges who pronounce such sentence are competent ones, and if there be a higher tri- bunal at which the question can be tried or in other words, judges who understand the subject better, let it be referred lo them, be- fore YOU finally make up your mind. Perhaps it may be objected that this is a tedious process, and that taste is a thing of sudden conclusion. But let it be remem- bered, I am now specking of the formation of a good taste, as a part of the character ; not of the operation of taste where it has been formed. Nor, indeed, is the suddenness with which some young persons decide in matters of taste, any proof of their good sense. So far from this, we often find them, under the influence of better judges, reduced to the mortifying necessity of changing their opinions to the direct opposite of what they have too hastily expressed. Still, though the process of forming the taste upon right principles, may at first be slow ; and though it may sometimes appear too tedious for juvenile impetuosity, the ex- ercise of good taste will in time become so easy, arid habitual, as to operate almost like an instinct ; and, until it is so, the process I have recommended, will have the great ad- vantage of preventing young ladies from be- ing too forward in expressing their senti- ments ; and what is of far greater impor- tance, they will be cautious in making their selection of what they admire, and what they condemn. Have we not all seen in society the ridicu- Vius spectacle of a young and forward girl exhibiting all the extravagance of juvenile importance in her condemnation of a book, which has not happened to please her fancy ; when, had she waited a few minutes longer, the conversation would have taken such a turn, as would have convinced her that among wise men, and enlightened women, the work was considered justly worthy of high commendation ] With what grace could she, then, after having thus committed her- self, either defend, or withdraw her own opinions] or with what complacency could she reflect upon the exposure she had made of her bad taste, before persons qualified to judge ? Far wiser is the part, perhaps, of her more diffident companion, who having equally failed in discovering the merits of the work in question, goes home and reads it again, with her attention more directed to its beauties ; and who, even if she fails at last in deriving that pleasure from the book which she had hoped, has the humility to conclude that the fault is in her own taste, which she then begins to regulate upon a new principle, and with a determination to endeavor to ad- mire what the best judges pronounce to be really excellent. We must not, however, attach too much importance to good taste, nor require it to operate beyond its legitimate sphere. Taste, unquestionably, gives a bias to the character, in its tendency to what is elevated or low, refined or vulgar ; but after all, the part of taste is only that of a witness called into a court of justice, to test the value of an arti- cle, which has some relation to the great and momentous decision in which the judge, the jury, and the court, are so deeply interested. As taste is that witness, religion is that judge ; and it is only as the one is kept subservient to the other, that it can be rendered condu- cive to our happiness or our good. The province of taste, then, includes all the minute affairs of woman's life which belongs to all pleasurable feeling, held in subordination to religious principle all which belongs to dress, manners, and social habits, so far as they may be said to be ladylike, or otherwise. Should any consideration, rela- 48 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. ting to one or all of these points, be allowed to interfere in the remotest degree with the requirements of religion, it is a proof, when- ever they do so, that the standard of excel- lence is a wrong one; and the individual who commits so fatal an errof, would do well to look to the consequences, and remedy the evil before it shall be too late. Religion never yet was injured by permitting good taste to follow in her train ; but that lovely handmaid can deserve the name of taste no longer, if she attempts to step before religion, or in any respect to assume her place. Above every other feature which adorns the female character, delicacy stands foremost whithin the province of good taste. Not that delicacy which is perpetually in quest of something to be ashamed of, which makes a merit of a blush, and simpers at the false construction its own ingenuity has put upon an innocent remark; this spurious kind of delicacy is as far removed from good taste, as from good feeling, and good sense ; but that high-minded delicacy which maintains its pure and undeviating walk alike among women, as in the society of men ; which shrinks from no necessary duty, and can speak, when required, with seriousness and kindness of things at which it would be ashamed indeed to smile or to blush that delicacy which knows how to confer a benefit without wounding the feelings of another, and which understands also how and when to receive one that delicacy which can give alms without display, and advice without as- sumption ; and which pains not the most humble or susceptible being in creation. This is the delicacy which forms so impor- tant a part of good taste, that where it does not exist as a natural instinct, it is taught as the first principle of good manners, and con- sidered as the universal passport to good so- ciety. Nor can this, the greatest charm of female character, if totally neglected in youth, ever be acquired in after life. When the mind has been accustomed to what is vulgar, or gross, the fine edge of feeling is gone, and nothing can restore it. It is comparatively ea.*y, on first entering upon life, to maintain the page of thought unsullied, by closing it against every improper image ; but when once such images are allowed to mingle with the imagination, so as to be constantly reviv- ed by memory, and thus to give their tone to the habitual mode of thinking and conversing, the beauty of the female character may in- deed be said to be gone, and its glory de- parted. But we will no longer contemplate so un- lovely so unnatural a picture. Woman, happily for her, is gifted by nature with a quickness of perception, by which she is able to detect the earliest approach of any thing which might tend to destroy that high-toned purity of character, for which, even in the days of chivalry, she was more reverenced and adored, than for her beauty itself. This quickness of perception in minute and deli- cate points, with the power which woman also possesses of acting upon it instantaneous- ly, has, in familiar phraseology, obtained the name of tact ; and when this natural gift is added to good taste, the two combined are of more value to a woman in the social and domestic affairs of every-day life, than the most brilliant intellectual endowments could be without them. When a woman is possessed of a high degree of tact, she sees, as if by a kind of sec- ond-sight, when any little emergency is like- ly to occur ; or when, to use a more familiar expression, tilings do not seem likely to go right She is thus aware of any sudden turn in conversation, and prepared for what it may lead to ; but, above all, she can pene- trate into the state of mind of those with whom she is placed in contact, so as to detect the gathering gloom upon another's brow, before the mental storm shall have reached any for- midable height; to know when the tone of voice has altered, when an unwelcome thought has presented itself, and when the pulse of feeling is beating higher or lower in consequence of some apparently trifling cir- cumstance which has just transpired. In these and innumerable instances of a similar nature, the woman of tact not only TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. 49 perceives the variations which are constantly taking place in the atmosphere of social life, but she adapts herself to them with a facility which the law of love enables her to carry out, so as to spare her friends the pain and annoyance which so frequently arise out of the mere mismanagement of familiar and apparently unimportant affairs. And how often do these seeming trifles " The lightly uttered, careless word" the wrong construction put upon a right meaning the accidental betrayal of what there would have been no duplicity in con- cealing how often do these wound us more than direct unkindness ! Even the young feel this sometimes too sensitively for their own peace. But while the tears they weep in private attest the severity of their sorrow, let them not, like the misanthrope, turntmck with hatred or contempt upon the^rorld which they suppose to have injured them ; but let them rather learn this' wholesome les- son, by their own experience, so to meet the peculiarities of those with whom they asso- ciate, as to soften down the asperities of tem- per, to heal the wounds of morbid feeling, and to make the current of life run smoothly, so far as they have power to cast the oil of peace upon its waters. Such then is the general use of tact. Par- ticular instances of its operation would be too minute, and too familiar, to occupy, with pro- priety, the pages of a book ; for, like many other female excellences, it is more valued, and better understood, by the loss a character sustains without it, than by any definite form it assumes, even when most influential upon the conversation and conduct. This valu- able acquirement, however, can never be at- tained without the cultivation in early life of habits of close observation. It is not upon the notes of a piece of music only, not upon a pattern of fancy-work, nor even upon the pages of an interesting book, that the atten- tion must alone be brought to bear ; but upon things in general, so that the faculty of obser- vation shall become so sharpened by constant use, that nothing can escape it. Far be it from me to recommend that idle and vulgar curiosity, which peeps about without a motive, or, worse than that, with a view to collect materials for scandal. Obser- vation is a faculty which may be kept perpet- ually at work, without intrusion or offence to others ; and at the same time, with infinite benefit to ourselves. Every object in crea- tion, every sound, every sensation, every pro- duction either of nature or of art, supplies food for observation, while observation in its turn supplies food for thought. I have been astonished in my association with young ladies, at the very few things they appear to have to think about. Generally speaking, they might be all talked up in the course of a week. And what is the consequence? It is far beyond a jest, for the consequence too frequently is, that they grow weary of them- selves, then weary of others, and lastly wea- ry of life of life, that precious and immortal gift, which they share with angels, and which to them, as to the angelic host, has been bestowed in order that therewith they may glorify the gracious Giver.. Now, this very weariness, which at the same time is the most prevalent disease, and the direst calamity, we find among young women ; since it not only makes them use- less and miserable, but drives them perpetual- ly into excitement as a momentary relief this weariness arises out of various causes with which young people are not sufficiently made acquainted, and one of the most power- ful of which is, a neglect of the habit of ob- servation. "I have seen nobody, and heard nothing to-day," is the vapid remark of one to whom the glorious heavens, and the fruitful earth, might as well be so much paint and patch- work. " What an uninteresting person !" exclaims another, who has never looked a second time at some fine expressive counte- nance, where deep feeling tells its own im- passioned story. "I wish some one would come and invite us out to tea," says a third, whose household library is stored with books, and whose parents have within themselves a fund of intelligence, which they would be 50 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. but too happy to communicate, could they find an attentive listener in their child. " But my life is so monotonous," pleads a fourth, " and my range of vision so limited, that I have nothing to observe." With those who live exclusively in towns, I confess this ar- gument might have some weight ; and for this reason, I suppose it is, that town-bred young women are often more ignorant than those who spend a portion of their early life in the country not certainly because there is really less to be observed in towns, but be- cause the mind, in the midst of a multitude of moving images, is comparatively unim- pressed by any. I confess, too, there is some- thing in the noise and tumult of a crowded city, which stupifies the mind, and blunts its perception of individual things, until the whole shifting pageant assumes the charac- ter of some vast panorama, upon which we look, only with regard to the whole, and for- getful of each individual part ^It is true, I have taken my accustomed walk in the city," observes a fifth young wo- man, " but I have found nothing to think about" What ! was there nothing to think about in the squalid forms of want and misery which met you at every turn ? nothing in the disappointed look of the patient mendicant as you passed him by 1 nothing in the pale and half-clad mother, seated on the step at the rich man's door, folding her infant to her bosom, and shrouding it with the " wings of care?" was there nothing in all that was doing among those busy thousands, for sup- plying the common wants of man ; the droves of weary animals goaded, stupified, or mad- dened, none of which would ever tread again the greensward on the mountain's side, or slake its thirst beside the woodland brook 1 was there nothing in the bold and beauti- ful charger, the bounding steed, or the sleek and well-fed carriage-horse, contrasted with the galled and lacerated victims of oppres- sion, waiting for their round of agony to come again? was there nothing in the vast- ness of man's resources, the variety of his inventions, the power of combined effort, as displayed in that perpetual succession of lux- uries both for the body and the mind ? was there nothing in that aspect of order and in- duptry, so important to individual, as well as national prosperity ? was there nothing, in short, in that mighty mass of humanity, or in the millions of pulses beating there, with health or sickness, weal or wo 7- was there nothing in all this to think about? Why, one of our late poets was wont to weep as he walked along Fleet-street and the Strand ; so intense were his sympathies with that mov- ing host of fellow-beings. And can young and sensitive women be found to pass over the same ground, and say they find nothing to think about ? Still less could we expect to meet with a being thus impervious in the country ; for there, if human nature pleases not, she may find -books in the running brooks, SHions in stones, and good in every thing." Whether it arises from an intellectual, or a moral defect, that this happy experience is so seldom realized, is a question of some im- portance in the formation of character. If young ladies really do not wish to be close observers, the evil is a moral one, and I can- not but suspect that much truth lies here. They wish, undoubtedly, to enjoy every amusement which can be derived from ob- servation, but they do not wish to observe ; because they either have some little pet sor- row which they prefer brooding over to them- selves, or some favorite subject of gossip, which they prefer talking over with their friends, or they think it more ladylike not to notice common things, or more interesting to be absorbed, to start when spoken to, and to spend the greatest portion of their time in a state of revery. If such be the choice of any fair reader of these pages, I can only warn her that the punishment of her error will eventually come upon her, and that as surely as she neglects in youth to cultivate the expansive and pleas- ure-giving faculty of observation, so surely will life become wearisome to her in old age, if not before. There are, however, many whose error on this point arises solely out of TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. 51 their ignorance of the innumerable advan- tages to be derived from a close observation of things in general. Their lives are void of interest, their minds run to waste, they are constantly pining for excitement, without being conscious of any definite cause for what they suffer. They see their more en- ergetic and intelligent companions anima- ted, interested, and amused, with something which they are consequently most anxious to be made acquainted with, supposing it will afford the same pleasure to them ; when, to their astonishment, they find it only some ob- ject which has for a long time met their daily gaze, without ever having made an impres- sion upon their own minds, or excited a single idea in connection with it. To such individ- uals it becomes a duty to point out, as far as we are able, the obstacles which stand in the way of their deriving that instruction and amusement from general and individual ob- servation, which would fill up the void of their existence, and render them at the same time more companionable and more happy. There is a word in our language of most inexplicable meaning, which by universal con- sent has become a sort of test- word among young ladies, and by which they try the worth of every thing, as regards its claim upon their attention. I mean the word in- teresting. In vain have I endeavored to at- tach any definite sense to this expression, as generally used by the class of persons ad- dressed in this work. I can only conjecture that its signification is synonymous with ex- citing, and that it is applicable to all which awakens sentiment, or produces emotion. However this may be, the fact that a person or thing is considered among young ladies as uninteresting, stamps it with irremediable obloquy, so that it is never more to be spoken, or even thought of; while, on the other hand, whatever is pronounced to be interest- ing, is considered worthy of their utmost at- tention, even though it should possess no other recommendation ; and thus not only heroes and heroines, but books, letters, con- versation, speeches, meetings public and pri- vate, friends, and even lovers, are tried by this universal test, and if they fail here, wo betide the luckless candidate for female fa- vor ! Of those who have hitherto been slaves to this all-potent word, I would now ask one simple question Is it not possible to create their own world of interest out of the mate, rials which Providence has placed before them ? or must they by necessity follow in the train of those who languish after the ex citement of fictitious sorrow, or who luxuri ate in the false sentiment of immoral books, and the flattery of unprincipled men, simply because they find them interesting ? Never has there been a delusion more in- sidious, or more widely spread, than that which arises out of the arbitrary use of this dangerous and deceitful word, as it obtains among young women. Ask one of them why she cannot read a serious book ; she answers, " the style is so uninteresting." Ask another why she does not attend a public meeting for the benefit of her fellow-creatures ; she an- swers that "such meetings have lost their interest." Ask a third why she does not make a friend of her sister ; she tells you that her sister " does not interest" her. And so on, through the whole range of public and private duty, for there is no call so impera- tive, and no claim so sacred, as to escape being submitted to this test : and on the other hand, no sentiment that cannot be reconciled, no task that cannot be undertaken, and no companionship that cannot be borne with, under the recommendation of having been introduced in an interesting manner. Of all the obstacles which stand in the way of that exercise of the faculty of obser- vation, which I would so earnestly recom- mend, I believe there is none so great as the importance which is attached to the wore " interesting," among young women. Upon whatever interests them, they are sufficiently ready to employ their powers of observation but with regard to what does not, they pass through the pleasant walks of daily life, as i: surrounded by the dreary wastes of a desert Of want of memory, too, they are apt to complain, and from the frequency with which THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. this grievance is spoken of, and the little ef- fort that is made against it, one would rather suppose it an embellishment to the character than otherwise, to be deficient in the power of recollecting. It is a fact, however, which personal experience has not been able to con- trovert, that whatever we really observe, we are able to remember. Ask one of these fair complainers, for instance, who laments her inability to remember, what colored dress was worn by some distinguished belle, for what piece of music she herself obtained the most applause, or what subject was chosen by some beau-ideal of a speaker, and it is more than probable her memory will not be found at fault, because these are the things upon which she has employed her observation ; and, had the subjects themselves been of a higher order, an equal effort of the same use- ful faculty, would have impressed them in the same imperishable characters upon her memory. After considering the subject in this point of view, how important does it appear that w^ should turn our attention to the power which exists in every human being, and especially during the season of youth, of cre- ating a world of interest for themselves, of deviating so far from the tendency of popu- lar taste, as sometimes to leave the Corsairs of Byron to the isles of Greece, and the Gyp- sies of Scott to the mountains of his native land ; and while they look into the page of actual life, they will find that around them, in their daily walks, beneath the parental roof, or mixing with the fireside circle by the homely hearth, there are often feelings as deep, and hearts as warm, and experience as richly fraught with interest, as ever glowed in verse, or lived in story. There is not, there cannot be any want of interest in the exercise of the sympathies of our nature upon common things, when no novel has ever exhibited scenes of deeper emotion, than observation has revealed to every hu- man being, whose perceptions have been habitually alive to the claims of weak and suffering humanity ; nor has fiction ever por- trayed such profound wretchedness as we may daily find among the poor and the de- praved ; and not wretchedness alone, for what language of mimic feeling has ever been found to equal the touching pathos of the poor and simple-hearted ? Nay, so far does imagination fall short of reality, that the highest encomium we can pass upon a wri- ter of fiction, is, that his expressions are " true to nature." This is what we may find every day in actual life, if we will but look for it intensi- ty of feeling under all its different forms ; the mother's tender love ; the father's high ambition ; hope in its early bud, its first blight, and its final extinction ; the joy of youth ; the helplessness of old age ; pa- tience under suffering ; disinterested zeal ; strong faith, and calm resignation. And shall we say that we feel no interest in reali- ties of which the novel and the drama are but feeble imitations 1 It is true that heroes and heroines do not strike upon their hearts, or fall prostrate, or tear their hair before us, every day ; but I repeat again, that the touch- ing pathos of true feeling, which all may be- come acquainted with, if they will employ their powers of observation upon human life as it exists around us, has nothing to equal it in poetry or fiction. If, then, we would turn our attention to human life as it is, and em- ploy our powers of observation upon cem- mon things, we should find a never-failing source of interest, not only in the sympathies of our common nature, but in all which dis- plays the wisdom and goodness of the Cre- ator ; for this ought ever to be our highest and ultimate aim in the exercise of every faculty we possess, to perceive the impress of the finger of God upon all which his will has designed, or his hand has created. All I have yet said on this subject, how- ever, has reference only to the benefit, or the enjoyment, of the individual who employs the faculty of observation. The law of love directs us to a happier and holier exercise of tliis faculty. No one can be truly kind, with- out having accustomed themselves in early life to habits of close observation. They may be kind in feeling, but never in effect ; TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. 53 for kindness is always estimated, not by the good it desires, but by that which it actually produces. A woman who is a close observer, under the influence of the law of love, knows so well what belongs to social and domestic comfort, that she never enters a room occu- pied by a family whose happiness she has at heart, without seeing in an instant every tri- fle upon which that comfort depends. If the sun is excluded when it would be more cheer- ful to let it shine in if the cloth is not spread at the right time for the accustomed meal if the fire is low, or the hearth unswept if the chairs are not standing in the most invi- ting places, her quick eye detects in an instant what is wanting to complete the general air of comfort and order which it is woman's bu- siness to diffuse over her whole household ; while, on the other hand, if her attention has never been directed to any of these things, she enters the room without looking around her, and sits down to her own occupations with- out once perceiving that the servants are be- hindhand with the breakfast, that the blinds are still down on a dark winter's morning, that a window is still open, that a chair is standing with its back to the fender, that the fire is smoking for want of better arrange- ment, or that a corner of the hearth-rug is turned up. Now, provided all other things are equal, which of these two women would be the most agreeable to sit down with ! The an- swer is clear ; yet, nothing need be wanting in the last, but the habit of observation, to render her a more inviting companion. It may perhaps be surmised, if not actually said, of the other, that her mind must be filled with trifle.s, to enable her habitually to see such as are here specified ; but it is a fact confirmed by experience, and knowledge of the world, that a quick and close observa- tion of little things, by no means precludes observation of greater ; and that the woman who cannot comfortably sit down until all these trifling matters are adjusted, will be more likely than another, whose faculties have not been thus exercised, to perceive, by an instantaneous glance of the eye, the peculiar temper of her husband's mind, as well as to discover the characteristic peculiar- ities of some interesting guest ; while, on the other hand, the woman who never notices these things, will be more likely to lose the point of a clever remark, and to fail to per ceive the most interesting features in the so ciety with which she associates. The facul. ty of observation is the same, whatever ob- ject it may be engaged upon ; and that which is minute, may sharpen its powers, and stim- ulate its exercise, as well as that which is more important. With regard to kindness, it is impossible so to adapt our expressions of good- will, as to render them acceptable, unless we minute- ly observe the characters, feelings, and situa- tion of those around us. Inappropriate kind- ness is not only a waste of good things, it is sometimes an annoyance nay, even an of- fence to the sensitive and fastidious, because it proves that the giver of the present, or the actor in the intended benefit has been more solicitous to display his own generosity, than to promote their real good ; or he might have seen, that, with their habits, tastes, and pecu- liarities, such an act must be altogether useless. A woman wanting the habit of observa- tion, though influenced by the kindest feel- ings, will be guilty of a vast amount of in- consistencies, which, summed up together by those whom they have offended, will, in time, obtain for her the reputation of being any thing but kind in her treatment of others. Such, for instance, as walking away at a brisk pace, intent upon her own business, and leaving behind some delicate and nerv- ous invalid to endure all the mortification of neglect. When told of her omission, she may hasten back, make a thousand apolo- gies, and feel really grieved at her own con- duct ; but she will not easily convince the in- valid that it would not have shown more real kindness to have observed from the first that she was left behind. No ; there is no way of being truly kind, without cultivating habits of observation. Nor will such habits come to our aid in after life, if they have been neglected in youth. Willingness to oblige, is 54 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. not all that is wanted, or this might supply the defect Where this willingness exists without observation, how often will a well- meaning person start up with a vague con- sciousness of some omission, look about with awkward curiosity to see what is wanted, blunder upon the right thing at the wrong time, and then sit down again, after having made every one else uncomfortable, and him- self ridiculous ! In connection with the habit of observa- tion, how much real kindness may be prac- tised, even by the most insignificant mem- ber of a family ! I have seen a little child, far too diffident to speak to the stranger- guest, still watch his plate at table with such assiduity, that no wish remained ungratified, simply from having just what the child per- ceived he most wanted, placed silently beside him. From this humble sphere of minute obser- vation, men are generally and very properly considered as excluded. But to women they look, and shall they look in vain, for the fill- ing up of this important page of human ex- perience ? Each particular item of the ac- count may be regarded as beneath their notice ; but well do they know, and deeply do they regret, if the page is left blank, or if the sum-total is not greatly to their advan- tage. Observation and attention are so much the same in their results, that I shall not consider them separately, but only add a few remarks on the subject of attention as it applies to reading. There is no social pleasure, among those it has been my lot to experience, which I esteem more highly than that of listening to an interesting book well read ; when a fire- side circle, chiefly composed of agreeable and intelligent women, are seated at their work. In the same way as the lonely traveller, after gain- ing some lofty eminence, on the opening of some lovely valley, or the closing of some sunset scene, longs to see the joy he is then feeling reflected in the face of the being he loves best on earth ; so, a great portiori*of the enjoyment of reading, as experienced by a social disposition, depends upon the same impressions being made upon congenial minds at the same time. I have spoken of an in- teresting book, well read, because I think the art of reading aloud is far too rarely culti- vated ; and I have often been astonished at the deficiency which exists on this point, after what is called a finished education. To my own feelings, the easy and judi- cious reading of a well-written book, on a favorite subject, is even more delightful than music ; because it supplies the mind with ideas, at the same time that it gratifies the ear and the taste. Little do they know of this pleasure, who pass in and out of a room unnecessarily, or who whisper about their thimble or their thread, while this music of the mind is thrilling the souls of those who understand it ; and little do they know of social enjoyment, who prefer poring over the pages of a book alone, rather than allowing others to share their pleasure at the same time. I am aware that many books may be well worth reading alone, which are not cal- culated for general reading ; and I am aware also, that every fireside circle is not capable of appreciating this gratification : but I speak of those which are ; and I think that wo- man, as a peculiarly social being, should be careful to arrange and adjust such affairs, as to create the greatest amount of social pleas- ure. Of this, however, hereafter. It is more to my present purpose, to speak of those habits of inattention to which many young persons unscrupulously yield, when- ever a book is read aloud. It may be re- marked, as a certain proof of their want of interest, when they rise to leave the room, and request the reader not to wa"it for them ; for though politeness may require some con- cession on their part, it is a far higher com- pliment to the reader, and indeed to the company in general, to evince an interest so great, than rather than lose any part of the book, they will ask, as a personal favor, that the reading of it may be suspended until their return, provided only their absence is brief. I have often felt with sympathy for the reader on these occasions, the disap- TASTE, TACT, AND OBSERVATION. 55 pointment he must experience when assured by one of his audience, that to her at least his efforts to give pleasure, and excite inter- est, have been in vain. Beyond this there is a habit of secret inat- tention, of musing upon other things when- ever a book is read aloud, which grows upon the young, until they lose the power to com- mand their attention, even when they would. This, however, I imagine to arise in great measure out of the want of cultivating the art of reading ; for the monotonous tone we so frequently hear, the misplaced emphasis, and, worse than all, the affectation of reading well, when the reader and not the book is too evidently intended to be noticed, are of themselves sufficient to repel attention, and to excite a desire to do any thing rather than listen. Truly has it been said, that " the sport of musing is the waste of life," for though oc- casional seasons of mental retirement are profitable to all* the habit of endless and aimless revery, which some young persons indulge in, is as destructive to mental energy, as to practical usefulness ! Hour after hour glides on with them unmarked, while thought is just kept alive by a current of undefined images flowing through the mind. And what remains 1 " A weary, stale, flat, and unprofitable" existence ; as burdensome to themselves, as unproductive of good to others. As a defence against the encroachments of this insidious enemy, it is good to be in earn- est about every thing we do earnest in our studies earnest in our familiar occupations earnest in our attachments but above all, earnest in our duties. There is a listless, dreamy, halfish way of acting, which evades the stigma of direct indolence, but which never really accomplishes one laudable pur- pose. Enthusiasm is the direct opposite of this ; but in the safe medium between this extreme and enthusiasm, is that earnestness which I would recommend to all young per- sons as a habit Enthusiasm, to the mind of youth, is vastly more taking than sober earn- estness ; yet, when we look to the end, how often do we find that the one is discouraged by difficulties, and finally diverted from its object, where the other perseveres, and ulti- mately succeeds ! Habitual earnestness is directly opposed to habitual trifling ; and this latter may truly be said to be the bane of woman's life. To be in earnest is to go steadily to work with whatever we undertake ; counting the cost, and weighing the difficulty, and still enga- ging in the task, assured that the end to be attained will repay us for every effort we make. To do one thing and think about another, to begin and not go on, to change our plan so often as to defeat our purpose, or to act without having formed a plan at all, this it is to trifle, and consequently to waste both time and effort By cultivating habitual earnestness in youth, we acquire the power of bringing all the faculties of the mind to bear upon any given point, whenever we have a purpose to accomplish. We do not then find, at the time we want to act, that attention has gone astray, that resolution cannot be fixed, that fancy has scattered the materials with which we were to work, that taste refuses her sanc- tion, that inclination rebels, or that industry chooses to be otherwise engaged. No ; such is the power of habit, that, when accustomed from early youth to be in earnest in what- ever we do, no sooner does an opportunity for making any laudable effort occur, than al' these faculties and powers are ready at our call ; and with their combined and willing aid, how much may be attained either for ourselves or others ! The great enemy we have to encounter, both in the use of the faculty of observation, and in the cultivation of habits of earnest- ness, is indolence ; an enemy which besets our path from infancy to age, which stands in the way of all our best endeavors, anc even when a good resolution has been formed, persuades us to delay the execution of it Could we prevail upon the young to regard this enemy as it really is a greedy monster, following upon their steps, and ever grasping out of their possession, their time, 56 THE DAUGHTERS OP ENGLAND. their talents, and their strength, instead of a pleasant fireside companion, to be dallied with in their leisure hours what . a service would be done to the whole human race ! for, to those who have been the willing slaves of indolence in youth, it will most assuredly be- come the tyrant of old age. The season of youth, then, is the time to oppose this enemy with success ; and those who have quickened their powers of obser- vation by constant exercise, and applied themselves with habitual earnestness to un- remitting efforts of attention and industry, will be in no danger of finding life, as it ad- vances, either uninteresting or wearisome ; or their own portion of experience destitute of utility and enjoyment CHAPTER IV. BEAUTY, HEALTH, AND TEMPER. THESE are personal qualifications univer- sally considered to be of great importance to the female sex ; yet is there something sad in the contemplation- of the first of these, so great is the disproportion between the esti- mation in which it is regarded by young people in general, and its real value in the aggregate of human happiness. Indeed, when we think of its frailty, its superficial character, and the certainty of its final and utter extinction and connect these consider- n;ions with the incalculable amount of am- bition, envy, and false applause, which beauty has excited we should rather be inclined to consider it a bane than a blessing to the hu- man race. Female beauty has ever been the theme of inspiration with poets, and with heroes, since the world began ; and for all the sins and the follies, and they are many, for which beauty has formed the excuse, has not man been the abettor, if not the cause ? Of his habitual and systematic treachery to his weak sister on this one point, what page, what book shall contain the record t Would that- some pen more potent than ever yet was wielded by a human hand, \vould transcribe the dark history, and present it to his view ; for hap- py, thrice happy will be that era, if it shall ever come, in the existence of woman, when man shall be true to her real interests, and when he shall esteem it his highest privilege to protect her not from enchanted castles, from jealous rivals, or from personal foes, but from the more insidious and fatal ene- mies which lurk within her own heart from vanity, from envy, and from love of admira- tion. To prove that I lay no unfounded charge at the door of man in "this respect, let us look into society as it is. The beautiful woman ! What court is paid to her ! What extrava- gances are uttered and committed by those who compose her circle of admirers ! She opens her lips : men of high intellectual pre- tensions are proud to listen. Some trifling or vapid remark is all she utters. They ap- plaud, if she attempts to be judicious ; they laugh, if she aims at being gay ; or they evince the most profound reverence for her sentiments, if the tone of her expression is grave. Listen to the flattery they offer at the shrine of this idol of an hour. No ! it is too gross, too absurd for repetition. One thing, however, makes it serious. Such flattery is frequently at the expense of rivals, and even of friends ; so that, while these admirers foster vanity, they are not satisfied without awaking the demon of envy in a soul, an immortal soul, which it ought to have been their generous and noble aim to shield from every taint of evil, and especially from so foul a taint as that of envy. But let us turn to another scene in the drama of society. The very same men are disclaiming their unsuccessful efforts to ob- tain the favor of this beauty, and ridiculing the emptiness and the folly of the remarks they so lately applauded. Time passes on. The beauty so worshipped begins to wane. Other stars shine forth in the hemisphere, and younger belles assert superior claims to admiration. Who, then, remains of all that prostrate circle ? Not one ! They are all BEAUTY, HEALTH, AND TEMPER. 57 gone over to the junior claimant, and are laughing with her at the disappointment of the faded beauty. This is a dark and melancholy picture, but for its truth I appeal to any who have mixed much in general society, who have either been beautiful themselves, or the confidants j of beauty, or who have been accustomed to hear the remarks of men on these subjects, when no beauty was present I might ap- peal also to the fact, that personal beauty among women alone, receives no exaggera- ted or undue homage. Were there no men in the world, female beauty would be valued as a charm, but by no means as one of the highest order ; and happily for women, an idea prevails among them, that those who want this charm, have the deficiency made up to them in talent, or in some other way. Still, there is so natural and irresistible a delight in gazing upon beauty, that I never could understand the philosophy of those moralists who would endeavor to keep from a lovely girl, the knowledge that she was so. Her mirror is more faithful, and unless that be destroyed, the danger is, that she will suspect such moral managers of some sinis- ter design in endeavoring to deceive her on this point, and that, in consequence, she will be put upon thinking still more of the value of a gift, with the possession of which she is not to be trusted. Far wiser is the part of that counsellor of youth, who, convinced that much of the danger attendant upon beauty, as a personal recommendation, arises out of low and ignorant views of the value of beau- ty itself, thus endeavors to show the folly of attaching importance to that which the touch of disease may at any hour destroy, and which time must inevitably efface. The more the mind is expanded and en- lightened, the more it is filled with a sense of what is admirable in the creation at large ; and the more it is impressed with the true image of moral beauty, the less it will be oc- cupied with the consideration of any personal claim to flattery or applause. There will al- ways be a circle of humble candidates for fa- vor surrounding the unguarded steps of youth, whose influence will be excited on the side of personal beauty, perhaps more than in any other way. Without disrespect to the valuable class of servants, to which I allude, for I am convinced they know not what they do, I must express my fears, that they are often busily at work upon the young mind, long before the age of womanhood, instilling into it their own low views of beauty as a personal distinction ; and it is against this in- fluence, more especially as it begins the earli- est, that I would call up all the power of mor- al and intellectual expansion, in order to fill the mind as early as possible with elevated thoughts of the creation in general, and of admiration for that part of it which is sepa- rate from s that a slight degree of indisposition makes less dif- ference in her amusements and occupations than in his. Still there is a strength and a beauty in her character, when laboring un- der bodily affliction, of which the heroism of fiction affords but a feeble imitation. Wherever woman is the most flattered, courted, and indulged, she is the least ad- mirable ; but in seasons of trial her highest excellences shine forth ; and how encourag- ing is the reflection to the occupant of a sick- chamber, that while the busy circles, in which she was wont to move, close up her vacant place, and pursue their cheerful rounds as gaily as when she was there that while ex- cluded from participation in the merry laugh, the social meeting, and the cordial inter- course of former friends, she is not excluded from more intimate communion with those who still remain ; that she can still exercise a moral and religious influence over them, and deepen the impression of her affectionate and earnest counsel, by exhibiting the Chris- tian graces of patience under suffering, and resignation to the will of God. Yes, there are many enjoyments in the chamber of sickness enjoyments derived from the absence of temptation, from proofs of disinterested affection, and from the un- speakable privilege of having the vanity of earthly things, and the realities of the eternal world, brought near, and kept continually in view. How are we then made acquainted with the hollowness of mere profession ! How much that appeared to us plausible and attractive when we mingled in society, is now stripped of its false coloring, and rendered repulsive and odious ! while, on the other hand, how much that was lightly esteemed by the world in which we moved, is discovered to be worthy of our admi- ration and esteem ! How much of human love, where we most calculated upon finding it, has escaped from our hold ! but then, how much is left to succor and console us, from those upon whose kindness we feel to have but little claim ! Experience is often said to be the only true teacher ; but illness often crowds an age of experience into the compass of a few sh^rt days. Often while engaged in the active avocations of life, involved in its contending interests, and led captive by its allurements, we wish in vain that a just balance could be maintained between the value of the things of time and of eternity. It is the greatest privilege of illness, that, if rightly regarded, it adjusts this balance, and keeps it true. From the bed of sichfess, we look back upon the business, which, a short time ago, ab- sorbed our very being. What is it then? A mere struggle for the food and clothing of a body about to mingle with the dust We look back at the pleasures we have left. What are they 7 The sport of truant chil- dren, when they should have been learning to be wise and good. We look back upon the objects which engaged our affections. How is it] Have the stars all vanished from, our heaven? Have the flowers all faded from our earth ? How can it be ? Alas ! our affections have been misplaced. We have not loved supremely only what was lovely in the sight of God : and merci- ful, most merciful is the warning voice, not yet too late, to tell us that He who formed the human heart, has an unquestionable right to claim his own. I am not one of those who would speak of religion as especially calculated for the cham- ber of sickness, and the bed of death ; be- cause I believe it is equally important to choose religion as our portion in illness, as in health in the bloom of youth, as on the border of the grave. I believe also, that in reality, that being is in as awful a condition, who lives on from day to day in the possess- ion of all temporal blessings, without religion, as he who pines upon a bed of suffering, without it But if the necessity of religion be the same, its consolations are far more powerfully felt, when deprived by sickness of every other stay ; and often do the darkened chamber, and the weary couch, display such evidence of the power and the condescen- sion of Divine love, that even the stranger 64 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. acknowledges it is better to go the house of mourning than of feasting. It is when the feeble step has trod for the last time upon nature's verdant carpet, when the dim eye has looked its last upon the green earth and sunny sky, when the weary body has almost ached and pined its last, when human skill can do no more, and kind- ness has offered its last relief it is then, that we see the perfect adaptation of the promises of the gospel to feeble nature's utmost need ; and while we contemplate the depths of the Redeemer's love, and hear in anticipation the welcome of angels to the pardoned sinner, and see upon his faded lips the smile of ever- lasting peace, we look from that solemn scene once more into the world, and wonder at the madness and the folly of its infatuated slaves. All these are privileges, if only to feel them as a mere spectator ; and never ought such scenes to be avoided on account of the pain- ful sympathy which the sight of human suf- fering naturally occasions. Young people are apt to think it is not their business to wait upon the sick, that their seniors are bet- ter fitted for such service, that they shall make some serious mistake, or create some inconvenience by their want of knowledge ; or at all events, they hold themselves ex- cused. Yet is there many a sweet young girl, who, in consequence of family affliction, becomes initiated in these deep mysteries of Christian charity, before he% willing step has lost the playful elasticity of childhood ; and never did th'e maturer virtues of the female character appear less lovely from such pre- cocious exercise. I should rather say, there was a tenderness of feeling, and a power of sympathy derived from early acquaintance with human suffering, which remains with woman till the end of life, and constitutes alike the charm of youth and the attraction of old age. I have dwelt long upon the privileges of illness, both to the sufferer and her friends, because I believe that all which is noble, and sweet, and patient, and disinterested in wo- man's nature, is often thus called forth ; as well as all that is most encouraging in the exemplification of the Christian character. But I rriust again advert to 41 Woman in our hours of ease ;" and here I am sorry to say, we sometimes find a fretfulness and petulance under the in- fliction of slight bodily ailments, which are as much at variance with the moral dignity of woman, as opposed to her religious influence. The root of the evil, however, lies not so oft- en in her impatience, as in a deeper secret of her nature. It lies most frequently in what I am compelled to acknowledge as the beset- ting sin of woman her desire to be an ob- ject of attention. From this desire, how many little coughs, slight headaches, sud- den pains, attacks of faintness, and symp- toms of feebleness are complained of, which, if alone, or in the company of those whose attentions are not agreeable, would scarcely occupy a thought. Yet it is astonishing how such habits gain ground, and remain with those who have indulged them in youth, long after such complaints have ceased to call forth a single kind attention, or to en- gage a single patient ear. Youth is the only time to prevent this habit fixing itself upon the character ; and it might be a wholesome truth for all '.vomen to bear in mind, that although politeness may some- times compel their friends to appear to listen, nothing is really so wearisome to others, as fre- quent and detailed accounts of our own little ail- ments. It is good, therefore, whenever temp- tations arise to make these trifling grievances the subject of complaint, to think of the poor, and the really afflicted. It is good to visit them also, so far as it may be suitable in their seasons of trial, in order that we may go home, ashamed before our families, and ashamed in the sight of God, that our com- paratively slight trials should excite a single murmuring thought Besides, if there were no other check upon these habitual complainers, surely the cheer- fulness of home might have some effect ; for who can be happy seated beside a compan- ion who is always in "excruciating pain," or BEAUTY, HEALTH, AND TEMPER. 65 who fancies herself so 1 There are, besides, many alleviations to temporary suffering, which it is not only lawful, but expedient to adopt. Many interesting books may be read, many pleasant kinds of work may be done, during a season of slight indisposition ; while on the other hand, every little pain is made worse by dwelling upon it, and especial- ly by doing nothing else. The next consideration which occurs in connection with these views of health, is that of temper ; and few young persons, I believe, are aware how much the one is dependent upon the other. Want of exercise, indiges- tion, and many other causes originating in the state of the bod)", have a powerful effect in destroying the sweetness of the temper ; while habitual exercise, regular diet, and oc- casional change of air, are among the most certain means of restoring the temper from any temporary derangement Still, there are constitutional tendencies of mind, as well as body, which seriously affect the temper, and which remain with us to the end of life, as our blessing or our bane ; just in proportion as they are overruled by our own watchfulness and care, operating in connection with the work of religion in the heart. It would require volumes, rather than pages, to give any distinct analysis of tem- per, so various are the characteristics it as- sumes, so vast its influence upon social and domestic happiness. We will, therefore, in the present instance, confine our attention to a few important facts, in connection with this subject, which it is of the utmost consequence that the young should bear in mind. In the first place, ill-temper should always be regarded as a disease, both in ourselves and others ; and as such, instead of either irritating or increasing it, we should rather endeavor to subdue the symptoms of the disease by the most careful and unremitting efforts. A bad temper, although the most pitiable of all infirmities, from the misery it entails upon its possessor, is almost invaria- bly opposed by harshness, severity, or con- tempt. It is true, that all symptoms of dis- ease exhibited by a bad temper, have a strong tendency to call forth the same in ourselves ; but this arises in great measure from not looking at the case as it really is. If a friend or a relative, for instance, is afflicted with the gout, how carefully do we walk past his foot- stool, how tenderly do we remove every thing which can increase his pain, how softly do we touch the affected part ! And why should we not exercise the same kind feeling towards a brother or a sister afflicted with a bad tem- per, which of all human maladies is unques- tionably the greatest 1 I know it is difficult nay, almost impossi- ble, to practise this forbearance towards a bad temper, when not allied to a generous heart when no atonement is afterwards of- fered for the pain which has been given, and when no evidence exists of the offender be- ing so much as conscious of deserving blame. But when concession is made, when tears of penitence are wept, and when, in moments of returning confidence, that luckless tenden- cy of temper is candidly confessed, and sin- cerely bewailed ; when all the different acts committed under its influence, are acknow- ledged to have been wrong, how complete ought to be the reconciliation thus begun, and how zealous our endeavors for the future to avert the consequences of this sad calamity ! Indeed, if those who are not equally tempted to the sins of temper, and who think and speak harshly of us for such transgressions, could know the agony they entail upon those who commit them the yearning of an affec- tionate heart towards a friend thus estranged the humiliation of a proud spirit after hav- ing thus exposed its weakness the bitter re- flection, that not one of all those burning words we uttered can ever be recalled that they have eaten like a canker into some old at- tachment, and stamped with ingratitude the aching brotf, whose fever is already almost more than it can bear ; oh ! could our calm- tempered friends become acquainted with all this with the tears and the prayers to which the overburdened soul gives vent, when no eye seeth its affliction, surely they would pity our infirmity ; and not only pity, but assist THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. These, however, are among the deep things of human experience, never to be clearly re- vealed, or fully understood, until that day when the secrets of all hearts shall be laid open. It is perhaps more to our present pur- pose, to consider what is the effect upon oth- ers, of encouraging wrong tempers in our- selves. Young people are apt to think what they do, of little importance, because they are perhaps the youngest in, the family, or at least too young to have any influence. They should remember that no one is too young to be disagreeable, nor too insignificant to an- noy. A fretful child may disturb the peace of a whole household, and an ill-tempered young woman carries about with her an at- mosphere of repulsion wherever she goes. The moment she enters a room, where a so- cial circle are enjoying themselves, conversa- tion either ceases or drags on heavily, as if a stranger or an enemy were near ; and kindly thoughts, which the moment before would have found frank and free expression, are suppressed, from the instinctive feeling that she can take no part in them. Each one of the company, in short, feels the worse for her presence, a sense of contraction seizes every heart, a cloud falls upon every countenance ; and so powerful are the sympathies of our nature, and so rapidly does that which is evil extend its contaminating influence, that all this will sometimes be experienced, when not a word has been spoken by the victim of ill- temper. It is easy to perceive when most young women are out of temper, even without the interchange of words. The pouting lip, the door shut with violence, the thread suddenly snapped, the work twitched aside or thrown down, are indications of the real state of the mind, at least as unwise, as they are unlove- ly. Others who are not guilty of these ab- surdities, will render themselves still more annoying, by a captiousness of conduct, most difficult to bear with any moderate degree of patience ; by conversing only upon humilia- ting or unpleasant subject?, complaining in- cessantly about grievances which all have equally to bear, prolonging disputes about the merest trifles beyond all bounds of reason and propriety ; and by finally concluding with a direct reproach for some offence which had far better have been spoken of candidly at first. But there would be no end to the task of tracing out the symptoms of this malady. Suffice it that a naturally bad temper, or even a moderate one badly disciplined, is the great- est enemy to the happiness of a family which can be admitted beneath any respectable roof the greatest hindrance to social intercourse the most fatal barrier against moral and religious improvement Like all other evils incident to man, a bad temper, if long encouraged, and thoroughly rooted in the constitution, becomes in time impossible to be eradicated. In youth it is comparatively easy to stem the rising tide of sullenness, petulance, or passion; but when the tide has been allowed to gain ground so as to break down every barrier, until its des- olating waters habitually overflow the soul, no human power can drive them back, or restore the beauty, freshness, and fertility which once existed there. No longer, then, let inexperienced youth believe this tide of evil can be stayed at will. The maniac may say, "I am now calm, I will injure you no more :" yet, the frenzied fit will come to-morrow, when he will turn again and rend you. In the same way, the victim of ungoverned temper may even beg forgiveness for the past, and promise, with the best intentions, to offend no more ; but how shall a daughter in her mood of kind- ness heal the wound her temper has inflicted on a mother's heart, or convince her parent it will be the last 1 How shall the woman, whose temper has made desolate her house- hold hearth, win back the peace and con- fidence she has destroyed 1 How shall the wife, though she would give all her brida jewels for that purpose, restore the links her temper has rudely snapped asunder in the chain of conjugal affection 1 No, there are no other means than those adopted and pursued in youth, by which to overcome this foe to temporal and eterna BEAUTY, HEALTH, AND TEMPER. 67 happiness. Nor let the task appear too diffi- cult. There is one curious fact in connection with the subject, which it may be encourag- ing to my young friends to remember. Stran- gers never provoke us at least, not in any degree proportionate to the provocations of our near and familiar connections. They may annoy us by their folly, or stay too long when they call, or call at inconvenient times ; but how sweetly do we smile at all their re- marks, how patiently do we bear all their al- lusions, compared with those of our family circle ! The fact is, they have less power over us, and for this reason, because they do not know us so well. Half the provoca- tions we experience from common conver- sation, and more than half the point of every bitter taunt, arise out of some intended or imagined allusion to what has been known or supposed of us before. If a parent speaks harshly to us in years of maturity, we think he assumes too much the authority which governed our childhood ; if a brother would correct our folly, we are piqued and morti- fied to think how often he must have seen it ; if a sister blames us for any trifling error, we know what her condemnation of our whole conduct must be, if all our faults are blamed in the same proportion. Thus it is that our near connections have a hold upon us, which strangers cannot have ; for, besides the cases in which the offence is merely imagined, there are but too many in which past folly or trans- gression is made the subject of present re- proach. And thus the evil grows, as year after year is added to the catalogue of the past, until our nearest connections have need of the utmost forbearance to avoid touching upon any tender or forbidden point. Now, it is evident that youth must be com- paratively exempt from this real or imagina- ry source of pain ; just in proportion as the past is of less importance to them, and as fewer allusions can be made to the follies or the errors of their former lives. Thus the season of youth has greatly the advantage over that of maturer age, in cultivating that evenness of temper which enables its pos- sessor to pass pleasantly along the stream of life, without unnecessarily ruffling its own course, or that of others. The next point we have to take into ac- count in the right government of temper, is the important truth, that habitual cheerful- ness is a duty we owe to our friends and to society. We all have our little troubles, if we choose to brood over them, and even youth is not exempt ; but the habit is easily acquired of setting them aside for the sake of others, of evincing a willingness to join in general conversation, to smile at what is gen- erally entertaining, and even to seek out sub- jects for remark which are likely to interest and please. We have no more right to in- flict our moodiness upon our friends, than we have to wear in their presence our soiled or cast-off clothes ; and, certainly, the latter is the least insulting and disgraceful of the two. A cheerful temper not occasionally, but habitually cheerful is a quality which no wise man would be willing to dispense with in choosing a wife. It is like a good fire in winter, diffusive and genial in its influence, and always approached with a confidence that it will comfort, and do us good. Atten- tion to health is one great means of main- taining this excellence unimpaired, and atten- tion to household affairs is another. The state of body which women call bilious, is most inimical to habitual cheerfulness ; and that which girls call having nothing to do, but which I should call idleness, is equally so. In a former part of this chapter, I have strongly recommended exercise as the first rule for preserving health ; but there is an exercise in domestic usefulness, which, with- out superseding that in the open air, is high- ly beneficial to the health, both of mind and body, inasmuch as it adds to other benefits, the happiest of all sensations, that of hav- ing rendered some assistance, or done some good. How the daughters of England those who have but few servants, or, perhaps, only one can sit in their fathers' homes with folded hands, when any great domestic movement j THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. is going on, and not endeavor to assist, is a mystery I have tried in vain to solve ; espe- cially when, by so doing, they become habit- ually listless, weary, and unhappy ; and when, on the other hand, the prompt and willingidomestic assistant is almost invaria- bly distinguished by the characteristics of energy and cheerfulness. Let me entreat my young readers, if they ever feel a tendency to causeless melancholy, if they are afflicted with cold feet and headache, but, above all, with impatience and irritability, so that they can scarcely make a pleasant reply when spoken to, let me entreat them to make trial of the system I am recommending ; not sim- ply to run into the kitchen and trifle with the servants, but to set about doing some- thing that will add to the general comfort of the family, and that will, at the same time, relieve some member of that family of a por- tion of daily toil. I fear it is a very unromantic conclusion to come to,, but my firm conviction is, that half the miseries of young women, and half their ill tempers, might be avoided by habits of domestic activity ; because (I repeat the fact again) there is no sensation more cheering and delightful, than the conviction of having been useful ; and I have generally found young people particularly susceptible of this pleasure. A willing temper, then, is the great thing to be attained ; a temper that does not object, that does not resist, that does not hold itself excused. A temper subdued to an habitual acquiescence with duty, is the only temper worth calling good; and this may be the portion of all who desire so great a blessing, who seek it in youth, and who adopt the only means of making it their own watch- fulness and prayer. I have said nothing of the operation of love, as it relates to the subject of this chapter ; but it must be understood to be pre-eminently the life-spring of our best endeavors in the regulation both of health and temper, since none can fail in the slightest degree in either of these points, without materially affecting the happiness of others. CHAPTER VII. SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTWN- SOCIETY is often to the daughters of 9 family, what business or a profession is to the sons ; at least so far as regards the importance attached to it, and the opportunity it affords of failure or success. Society ! what a ca- pacious and dignified idea this word presents to the girl just entering upon womanhood ! What a field for action and sensation ! What an arena for the display of all her accomplish- ments ! How much that is now done, thought, and uttered, has society for its object ! How much is left undone, for the sake of so- ciety ! But let us pause a moment, and ask what society is. Is it a community of tried and trusted friends, united together by the ties of perfect love 1 Listen lo the remarks of those, even of your own family, who re- turn from the evening party, or the morning call. Is it a community of beings with whom mind is all in all, and intellectual improve- ment the purpose for which they meet 1 Observe the preparations that are made the dress, the furniture, the food, the expense that is lavished upon these. Is it a commu- nity who even love to meet, and who really enjoy the social hours they spend together 1 Ask them in what mood or temper they enter upon the fatigues of the evening, or how often they wish that some event would occur to render their presence unnecessary. There is, however, one class of beings, who generally go into society with no want of inclination, but who rather esteem no trouble too great which is the means of bringing them in contact with it, or which enables them to pass with credit the ordeal which society presents. This class of beings consists of young women who have not had experience enough to know what society really is, or what is the place assigned to them by the unanimous opinion of society, in the circles with which they exchange visits. What an event to them is an evening party ! One would think each of the young aspirants to distinction expected to be the centre of a cir- SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. 69 cle, so intense is the interest exhibited by every act of preparation. The consequence of all this, is a more than ordinary degree of causeless depression on the following day, or else an equal degree of causeless elevation, arising perhaps out of some foolish attention, or flattering remark, which has been repeat- ed to half the ladies in the room. Of all the passions which take possession of the female breast, a passion for society is one of the most inimical to domestic enjoy, ment Yet, how often does this exist in con- nectiop with an amiable exterior ! It is not easy to say, whether we ought most to pity or to blame a woman who lives for society a woman who reserves all her good spirits, all her becoming dresses, her animated looks, her interesting conversation, her bland be- havior, her smiles, her forbearance, her gen- tleness for society what imposition does she practise upon those who meet her there ! Follow the same individual home, she is im- patient, fretful, sullen, weary, oppressed with headache, uninterested in all that passes around her, and dreaming only of the last evening's excitement, or of what may consti- tute the amusement of the next ; while the mortification of her friends at home, is in- creased by the contrast her behavior exhibits in the two different situations, and her ex- penditure upon comparative strangers, of feelings to which they consider themselves as having a natural and inalienable right As a cure for this passion, I would propose a few remarks, founded both on observation and/ experience. In the first place, then, we seldom find that society affords us more pleasing or instructive intercourse than awaits us at home ; and as to kindly feeling towards ourselves, if not excited in our nearest con- nections, how can we expect it from those wno know us less, without having practised upon them some deception ? In the next place, we ought never to forget our own extreme insignificance in society. Indeed, it may be taken as a rule with young people in ordinary cases, that one half of the persons they meet in society are not aware of their having been present, nor even con- scious of the fact of their existence ; that another half of the remaining number have seen them without any favorable impression ; that another half of those who still remain, have seen them with rather unfavorable feel- ings than otherwise ; while, of those who re- main beyond these, the affectionate feelings, indulgence, and cordial interest, can be as nothing, compared with what they might en- joy at home. " How can this be V exclaims the young visitor, " when so many persons look pleased to see me, when so many invitations are sent me, when some persons pay me such flatter- ing compliments, and others appear so de- cidedly struck with my appearance 1" I should be truly sorry to do any thing to cool down the natural warmth and confidence of youth ; but, in such cases, my rule for judg- ing is a very simple one, depending upon the result of the following inquiries: What is the proportion of persons you have noticed in the same company! What is the proportion of those by whom you have felt yourself re- pelled 1 What is the proportion of those you have really admired 1 and the proportion of those to whom you have been attracted by sympathy, or affection ] Ask yourselves these questions, and remember, that whatever may be the flattering aspect of society, you have no right to expect to receive, in admi- ration, or good- will, more than you give. There is another class of young women, who appear to think the only reason for their being invited in society, is, that another place may be occupied, another chair filled, and another knife and fork employed ; for as to any effort they make in return for the com- pliment of inviting them, they might, to all intents and purposes, have been at home. Now, where persons cannot, or dare not, con- verse or where that which alone deserves the name of conversation is not suited to the habits or the ways of thinking of those who have been at the trouble of inviting guests I am a great advocate for cheerful, easy, so- cial chat ; provided only, it gives place the instant that something better worth listening to is commenced. That all ingenious, warm- 70 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. hearted, unaffected young women, can chat, and some of them very pleasantly too, wit- ness their moments of unrestrained confidence in the company of their friends. There is, then, no excuse for those who go into com- pany, and return from it, without having con- tributed in any way to the enjoyment of the party they had been invited to meet All young persons, however insignificant, must occasionally meet the eye of the mis- tress of the house where they are wishing, and then is the time to say something expres- sive of interest in her, or hers ; such as in- quiring for some absent member of the family : or, at any rate, proving in some way or other, that she and her household have interests with which you are not wholly unacquaint- ed. One of the most genuine, and at the same time one of the most pleasing compliments ever paid, is that of proving to those we visit, or receive as visitors, that we have been pre- viously aware of their existence. There are many delicate ways of doing this ; and while it injures no one, it seldom fails to afford a certain degree of gratification. Social chat, is that which sets people at liberty to talk on their favorite subjects, whatever they may be. In society, too, we meet with a large propor- tion of persons, who want listeners ; and the young, who cannot be supposed to have amassed so large a sum of information as others, ought to consider themselves as pe- culiarly called upon to fill this respectable de- partment in society, remembering at the same time, that the office of a good listener can never be that of a perfectly silent one. There must be occasionally an animated and intelligent re- sponse, intervals of attentive and patient hear- ing, with a succession of questions, earnestly, but modestly put, and arising naturally out of the subject, to render the part of the listener of any value in general conversation. The vapid response effectually repels ; the flat and uninterested expression of countenance soon wearies ; and the question not adapted to the subject cuts short the narration. Let me not, however, be understood to re- commend the mere affectation of interest, or attention ; though perfectly aware that such affectation is the current coin, by which the good-will of society is generally purchased. My view of the case is this that the absence of vanity and selfishness in our own feelings, and benevolence towards others, will induce a real interest in every thing which concerns them, at least, so far as it may occupy the conversation of an evening ; and are we not as much bound in duty to be social, frank, and talkative to little-minded and common- place persons, provided they have been at the pains to invite and to entertain us, as if they were more intellectual, or more dis- tinguished 1 Besides, how often do we find in conversation with such persons, that they are able to give us much useful information, which individuals of a higher grade of intel- lect would never have condescended to give ; and, after all, there is a vast sum of practi- cal and moral good effected by persons of this description, whose unvarnished details of common things afford us clearer views of right and wrong, than more elaborate state- ments. I have said, already, that the indulgence of mere chat should never be carried too far. In the society of intelligent and enlightened men, nothing can be more at variance with good taste, than for women to occupy the at- tention of the company with their own little affairs ; but especially when serious conversa- tion is carried on, no woman of right feeling would wish to interrupt it with that which is less important Nor ought this humble substitute for conversation, which I have re- commended to those who cannot do better, or appreciate what is higher, on any occasion to be considered as the chief end at which to aim in society. Women possess pre-emi- nently the power of conversing well, if this power is rightly improved and exercised ; but as this subject is one which occupies so large a portion of a previous work,* I will only add, that my opinion remains the same as therein expressed, that the talent of con- versation is one which it is woman's especial * The Women of England. SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. 71 duty to cultivate, because the duties of con- versation are among those for which she is peculiarly responsible. When we think of what society might be to the young, and to the old, it becomes a painful task to speak to the inexperienced, the trusting, and the ardent, of what it is. When we think of the seasons of mental and spiritual refreshment, which might thus be enjoyed, the interchange of mutual trust and kindness, the awakening of new ideas, the correction of old ones, the sweeping away of prejudice, and the establishment of truth, the general enlargement of thought, the extension of benevolence, and the increase of sympathy, confidence, and good faith, which might thus be brought about among the families of man- kind ; we long to send forth the young and the joyous spirit, buoyant with the energies of untried life, and warm with the generous flow of unchecked feeling, to exercise each growing faculty, and prove each genuine im- pulse, upon the fair and flowery field which society throws open, alike for action, for feel- ing, and for thought. But, alas ! such is society as it now ex- ists, that no mother venturing upon this ex- periment, would receive back to the peaceful nest the wing so lately fledged unruffled by its flight, the snowy breast unstained, or the beating heart as true as when it first went forth, elated with the glowing hope of finding in society wharit never yet was rich enough to yield. An old and long-established charge is brought against society for its flattery and its falsehood, and we go on from year to year complaining in the same strain ; those who have expected most, and have been the most deceived, complaining in the bitterest terms. But, suppose the daughters of England should now determine that they would bring about a reformation in society, how easily would this be done ! for, whether they know it or not, they have the social morals of their coun- try in their power. If the excellent, but humble maxim, "Let each one mend one," were acted up to in this case, we should have no room left to find fault with others, for all would be too busily and too well occupied yi examining their own motives, and regulating their own conduct, to make any calculations upon what might be done or left undone by others. In the first place, each young woman act- ing upon this rule, would live for home, trusting that society would take care of its own interests. She would, however, enter into it as a social duty, rather than a personal gratification, and she would do this with kind and generous feelings, determined to think the best she could of her , fellow-creatures, and where she could not understand their motives, to give them credit for good ones. She would mix with society, not for the pur- pose of shining before others, but of adding her share to the general enjoyment; she would consider every one whom she met there, as having equal claims upon her at- tentions ; but her sympathies would be es- pecially called forth by the diffident, the un- attractive, or the neglected. Above all, she would remember that for the opportunities thus afforded her, of doing or receiving good, she would have to render an account as a Christian, and a woman ; that for every wrong feeling not studiously checked, for every falsehood however trifling, or calcula- ted to please, for every moral truth kept back or disguised for want of moral courage to divulge it, for every uncharitable insinua- tion, for every idle or amusing jest at the ex- pense of religious principle, and for every chance omitted of supporting the cause of virtue, however unpopular, or discounte- nancing vice, however well received, her sit- uation was that of a responsible being, of whom an account of all the good capable of being derived from opportunities like these, would be required. Need we question for a moment whether such are the feelings, and such the resolu- tions, of those who enter into society in gener- al 1 We doubt not but some are thus influ- enced, and that they have their reward ; but with others, old associations and old habits are strong, and they think that one can do nothing against the many ; and thus they THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. w8it f and wish tilings were otherwise, but never set about the reformation themselves. Yet, surely these are times for renovated ef- fort on the part of women, to whom the in- terests of society belong ; for let men rule, as they unquestionably have a right to do, in the senate, the camp, and the court ; it is women whose sentiments and feelings give tone to society, and society which in its turn influences the sentiments and feelings of mankind. Each generation, as it arises, ma- tures, and consolidates into another series of social intercourse, bears the impress which society has stamped upon the last ; and so powerful is the influence thus derived, that the laws of a nation would be useless in de- fence of virtue, if the voice of society was raised against it How often has the tender and anxious mo- ther had to deplore this influence upon the minds of her children ! Until they mingled with society, they were respectful, attentive, and obedient to her injunctions, confiding im- plicitly in the rectitude and the reasonable- ness of her requirements. But society soon taught them that the views of their parents were unenlightened, old-fashioned, or absurd ; that even the motives for enforcing them might not be altogether pure ; and that none who mixed in good society, ought to submit to regulations so childish and humiliating. If then, such be the influence of society, how important is it that so powerful an agent should be engaged on the side of virtue and of truth ! And that it already is so in many most important cases, I acknowledge, to the honor of my country, believing that the gen- eral tone of society is highly favorable to that high moral standard, for which England is pre-eminent over every nation of the world. I allude particularly to the preservation of the character of woman from the slightest taint The rules, or rather the opinions of society, as to what is correct or incorrect in female conduct, extending down to the most minute points of behavior, are sometimes considered to be too strict, and even rebelled against by high-spirited ignorant young women as being too severe. But let no one, in her blindness or temerity, venture upon the slightest trans- gression of these rules, because in her young wisdom she Sees no cause for their existence. Society has good reasons for planting this friendly hedge beside the path of woman, and the day will come when she will be thankful truly thankful that her own conduct, even in minute and apparently trifling matters, was not left in early life to the decision of her own judgment, or the guidance of her own will. It ought rather to be the pride of every English woman, that such are the conditions of society in her native land, that whether motherless or undisciplined in her domestic lot, she cannot become a member of good so- ciety, or at least retain her place there, with- out submitting to restrictions ; which, while they deprive her of no real gratification, are at once the safeguard of her peace, the sup- port of her moral dignity, and the protection of her influence as a sister, a wife, a mother, and a friend. Let us then be thankful to society for the good it has done, and is doing, to thousands who have perhaps no watchful eye at home, no warning voice to tell them how far to go, and when to go no further. Nor can we for a moment hesitate to yield our assent to these restrictions imposed upon our sex, when we look at the high moral standing of the women of England, and think how much the tone of society has to do with the maintenance of their true interests. Let xis not, however, stop here. If there is so much that is good in society, why should there not be more? Why should there still remain the trifling, the slander, the envy, the low suspicion, the false- hood, the flattery, which ruffle and disfigure the surface of society, and render it too much like a treacherous ocean, on which no well- wisher to the young would desire to trust an untried bark? A feeling of moral dignity taken with us in- to society, would be a great preservative against much of this ; because it would lift us out of the littleness of low observations, and petty cavillings about dress and manners. A spirit of love would do more, extending SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. through all the different channels of forbear- ance, benevolence, and mutual trust. But a Christian spirit would do still more ; be- cause it would embrace the whole law of love, at the same time that it \vould impress the seal of truth upon all we might venture to say or do. Thus might a great moral ref- ormation ba effected, and effected by the young by young women too, and effected without presumption, and without display ; for the humble and unobtrusive working out of these principles, would be as much at va- riance with ostentation, as they would be fa- vorable to the cultivation of all that is estima- ble in the female character, both at home and abroad. One of the greatest drawbacks to the good influence of society, is the almost unrivalled power of fashion upon the female mind. Wherever civilized society exists, fashion ex- ercises her all-pervading influence. All stoop to it, more or less, and appear to esteem it a merit to do so ; while a really fashionable wo- man, though both reprobated and ridiculed, has an influence in society which is little less than absolute. Yet, if we, would choose out the most worthless, the most contemptible, and the least efficient of moral agents, it would be the slave of fashion. Say the best we can of fashio^ it is only an imaginary or conventional rule, by which a certain degree of order and uniformity is maintained ; while the successive and fre- quent variations in this rule, are considered to be the means of keeping in constant exer- cise our arts and manufactures. I am not political economist enough to know whether the same happy results might not be brought about by purer motives, and nobler means ; but it has always appeared to me one of the greatest of existing absurdities, that q| whole community of people, differing in com- plexion, form, and feature, as widely as the same species can differ, should not only de- sire to wear precisely the same kind of dress, but should often labor, strive, and struggle, deceive, envy, and cheat, and spend their own substance, and often more than they can law- fully call their own to do what 1 To obtain a dress, which is to them most unbecoming, or an article of furniture wholly unsuited to themselves and their establishment. My own idea, and I believe it is founded upon a long-cherished, and perhaps too ar-^ dent admiration of personal beauty, is, that fashion ought to favor all which is most be- coming. It is true, we should at first be great- ly at a loss to know what was becoming, be- cause we should have the power and the pre- judice of fashion to contend with ; but there can be no doubt that individual, as well as public taste, would be improved by such ex- ercise, and that our manufactures would in the end be equally benefited, though for some time it might be difficult to calculate upon the probable demand. Nor can I think that female vanity would be more encouraged than it now is, by thus consulting personal and relative fitness ; because the young wo- man who now goes into company fashiona- bly disfigured, believes herself to be quite as beautiful as if she was really so. Neither can I see that we are not bound to study how to make the best of our appearance, for the sake of our friends, as well as how to make the best of our manners, our furniture, and our food. Fashion, however, never takes this into account. According to her arbitrary law, the woman of sallow complexion must wear the same color as the Hebe ; the contracted or misshapen forehead must be laid as bare as that which displays the fairest page of beau- ty ; the form with square and awkward shoul- ders, must wear the same costume as that which boasts the contourof the Graces; and oh ! most pitiful of all, old age must be " pranked up" in the light drapery, the flow- ers, and the gauds of youth ! In addition to all this, each one, as an indispensable requi- site, must possess a waist considerably below the dimensions which are consistent either with symmetry or health. It will be an auspicious era in the experi- ence of the daughters of England, when they shall be convinced, that the Grecians had a higher standard of taste in female beauty, than that of the shopkeepers and dressma- 71 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. kers of London. They will then be willing to believe, that to be within the exact rule of proportion, is as important a deviation from perfect beauty, as to be beyond it ; and that nothing which destroys the grace of easy and natural movement, which deprives any bodi- ly function of its necessary exercise, which robs the youthful cheek of its bloom, or, in short, which ungratefully throws back from our possession the invaluable blessing of health, can be consistent with the good taste or right feeling of an amiable, intelligent, or rational woman. These remarks are applicable, in their full- est force, to every deviation which is sanc- tioned by fashion, from the strict and holy law of modesty and decorum. And of this most injurious tendency of fashion, how in- sidious is every encroachment, yel how cer- tain its effect upon the female mind ! It is no uncommon thing to hear women express the utmost abhorrence of the costume of some old portrait, who, in the course of a few years, perhaps months, are induced by fashion to adopt, with unblushing satisfac- tion, an equally, or more objectionable dress. The young girl cannot too scrupulously shroud her modest feelings from the unspa- ring test of fashion. The bloom of modesty is soon rubbed off by vulgar contact; bu what is thus lost to the young female can never be restored. And let her look to the risk she incurs. What is it 7 On the one hand, to be thought a little less fashionable than her friends and neighbors on the other to be thought a little more exposed than a del icate woman ought to be. Is there any com parison between the two 1 Or is there oni of the daughters of England, who would no rather be known to choose the former 1 If possessed of any genuine feeling on these important points, a young woman wi know by a kind of instinct, that a bare shoul der protruding into sight, is neither a delicat nor a lovely object ; that a dress, either s< made, or so put on, as not to look secure ani neat, is, to say the least of it, in bad taste and that the highest standard at which rightly-minded woman can aim with regar o dress, is, that it should be becoming, and ot conspicuous. In order to secure this ast point of excellence, it is unquestionably ecessary to conform in some measure to the ashion of the times in which we live, and lie circle of society in which we move ; yet, urely this may be done to an extent suffi- ient to avoid the charge of singularity, with- mt the sacrifice either of modesty or good taste. Whatever may be the beneficial influence f fashion upon the interests of the country at large, its effects upon individual happiness are injurious in proportion to their extent ; and in what region of the world, or among what grade of humanity, has not this idol of he gilded shrine, this divinity of lace and ribbons, wielded the sceptre of a sovereign, and asserted her dominion over mankind 1 All bow before her, though many of her sub- jects disclaim her title, and profess to despise her authority. Nor is her territory less ex- tensive, because her empire is one of trifles. From the ermine of the monarch to the san- dal of the clown ; from the bishop's lawn, to the itinerant's cravat ; from the hero's man- tle, to the mechanic's apron ; it is fashion alone which regulates the form, the quality, and the cost. Fashion is unjustly spoken of as presiding only in the festive dance, the lighted hall, the crowded court Would that her influence were confined to these alone ! but, alas ! we find her in the most sedate assemblies, cool- ing down each tint of coloring that else might glow too warmly, smoothing off excrescences, and rounding angles to one general uniformi- ty of shape and tone. Her task, however, is but a short one here, and she passes on through all the busy haunts of life, neglect- gng neither high nor low, nor rich nor poor, until she enters the very sanctuary, and bows before the altar, not only walking with the multitude who keep holy day, but bending in sable sorrow over the last and dearest frienc committed to the tomb. Yes, there is some- thing monstrous in the thought, that we can- not weep for the dead, but fa.-hion must dis- guise our grief; and that we cannot stanc SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. 75 before the altar, and pronounce that solemn vow, which the deep heart of woman alone can fully comprehend, but fashion must be especially consulted there. Yet worse even than all this, is the influ- ence which our love of fashion has upon our servants, and upon the poor. Every Chris- tian woman sees and deplores the evil, and many wholesome restrictions are laid upon poor girls, in their attendance at Sunday- schools, and other establishments for their instruction ; but are not the plans most fre- quently adopted for the correction of this evil, like telling little children at table that good things are not safe for them, yet eating them ourselves, and making much of them too, as if they were the greatest treat 1 Christians, I believe, will find they have much to give up yet, before the cause of Christ will -prosper as they wish it in our native land. Never will the young servant cease to walk the streets with pride and sat- isfaction in the exhibition of her newly-pur- chased and fashionable attire, so long as she sees the young ladies, in the family she serves, make it their greatest object to be fashionably dressed. They may say, and with some justice, that she has no right to regulate her conduct by their rule ; they may reason with, and even reprove her too ; but neither reasoning nor reproof will have the power to correct, so long as example weighs down the opposite scale. The vanity, the weakness of woman is the same in the kitch- en as in the drawing-room; and if fashion is omnipotent in one, we cannot expect it to be powerless in the other. The question then has come to this : shall we continue to compete with our servants in dress, now that excess has become an evil ; or shall we endeavor, for their sakes as well as our own, to compete with them in self- denial, and in ^courage to do right 1 How can we pause how can we hesitate in such a choice ] Our decision once made on this important point, we shall soon find that fash- ion has been with us, as well as with them, a hard mistress. Yes, fashion has often de- manded of us the only sum of money we had been able to lay by for the needy poor; while with them it has wrung the father's scanty pittance from his hand, to supply the daughter with the trappings of her own dis- grace. Fashion with us has often set on fire the flame of envy, and embittered the shafts of ridicule; while with them it has been a fruitful source of deceit, dishonesty, and crime. Fashion with us has often broken old connections, made us ashamed of valua- ble friends, and proud of those whose friend- ship was our bane ; while with them it has been the means of introducing the young and the unwary to the companionship of the treacherous and the depraved. I have said that fashion is a hard mistress : when we contemplate some scenes exhibited, not to th eye of the stranger, but within the circle of private families in this prosperous and enlightened country, we are often led to doubt, whether its boasted happiness is really so universal as patriot poets and patriot ora- tors would teach us to believe. There is a state of things existing behind the scenes in many English homes, an under-current be- neath the fair surface of domestic peace, to which belong some of the most pressing anx- ieties, the darkest forebodings, and the bit- terest reflections of which the human mind is capable, and all arising out of the great na- tional evil of competing with our neighbors in the luxuries and elegances of life, so as to be living constantly up to the extent of our pecuniary means, and too frequently beyond them. It is not likely that young women should understand this evil in its full extent, or be aware of the many sad consequences result- ing from it, but they do understand that it is not necessity, nor comfort, nor yet respecta- bility, which makes them press upon their parents the often-repeated demand for money, where there is none to spare. No ; it is fashion, the tyrant-mistress upon whose ser- vice they have entered, who calls upou them to be dressed in the appointed livery of all her slaves ; and thus they wring a father's heart with sorrow, perhaps deprive him of the necessary comforts of old age ; or they 76 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. send away unpaid a poor and honest trades- man, because they cannot, "absolutely can- not," appear in company with an unfashion- able dress. Now, does it never occur to the amiable, and the affectionate, that a particular color or form of dress is hardly worth a parent's heartache 1 I know it does ; and they feel sorry sometimes to be thus the cause of what they would persuade themselves was unne- cessary pain. But fashion is a cruel, as well as a hard mistress ; and she tells them that, despite the remonstrances of parental love, despite the legal claims of those whose need is greater than their own, despite the stain upon their father's house and name, if found unable to discharge his lawful debts, her rule is absolute, and she must be obeyed. Yes, I know it does come home to the hearts of the feeling and the kind, to make these frequent and these urgent applications, where they know that the pecuniary means of the family are small ; and sometimes they do try to go forth into company again, with a dress not cut according to the newest mode. But fashion is revengeful, as she is cruel ; and she turns upon them with the ridicule of gayer friends, and asks whether the garb they wear was the costume of the ark ; and, instantly, all that is noble, and generous, and disinterested in their nature, sinks, and they become subject, perhaps, to as much real suffering for the time, as if they had destroyed a mother's peace, or involved a father in pe- cuniary difficulty. But let them not be discouraged at thus being deprived for an instant of moral dig- nity, and moral power. The better feelings of their nature will rally, the vitality of higher principles will revive, if they will but make a stand against the enemy ; or, rather, if they will but reflect, that fashion, under whose tyranny they are quailing, is, in reality, an enemy, and not a friend. She is an enemy, because she has incited them to much evil, and to no good. She is an enemy, because when they sink into poverty or distress, led on by her instigation, she immediately for- sakes, and leaves them to their fate. Fashion never yet was on the side of suffering, of sor- row, or of want Her favorite subjects are the successful, the arrogant, the vain-glorious ; the objects of her contempt are the humble, the afflicted, and tl? poor. Let the young, then, bear about with them the remembrance of this fact, that there are strong influences which obtain even in good society, but which are not really to be weighed in the balance against the minutest fraction of Christian duty ; and that fashion, although approved, and even courted by all classes and denominations of mankind, and present, by general invitation, at all places of public resort, even on occasions the most sacred and solemn, so far from having part or lot in any thing pertaining to religion, can only dis- play the symbols of her triumph in the house of prayer, as a badge of human weakness, and a proof that our follies and infirmities are with us even there. Beyond the love of fashion, which is com- mon to all classes of society, there some- times exists in the female breast a passion of a deeper and still more dangerous nature, which society has a powerful tendency to call forth ; I mean the love of distinction. In man, this passion is ambition. In woman, it is a selfish desire to stand apart from the many ; to be something of, and by, herself; to enjoy what she does enjoy, and to appro- priate the tribute which society offers her, distinct from the sisterhood to which she be- longs. Of such women it may truly be said, " they have their reward." The first and most frequent aim to which this passion directs itself, is to be the idol of society ; which is synonymous with being the butt of ridicule, and the mock of envy, to all who witness her pretensions, especially to all who have failed in the same career. No sooner does a woman begin to feel herself the idol of society, than she finds around her daily path innumerable temptations, of which she had never dreamed before. Her exalted position is maintained, not by the universal suffrage of her friends, for at least one half of them would pluck her down if they were able ; but by the indefatigable exercise of her SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. 77 ingenuity in the way of evading, stooping, conciliating, and sometimes deceiving ; as well as by a continued series of efforts to be cheerful when depressed, witty when abso-. lutely dull, and animated, brilliant, and amu- sing, when disappointed, weary, or distressed. When we think that all this must be gone through, evening afte*r evening, in the same company, as well as among strangers, and without excitement as well as with, in order to prevent the title of the occupant of that distinguished place from being disputed, we are led to exclaim, that the miner, the con- vict, and the slave have an easier and a hap- pier lot than hers. Nor is this all. The very eminence on which she stands, renders all her faults and failures so much the more conspicuous ; while it enables every stander- by to test the validity of her pretensions, and to triumph over every flaw. What a situation for a woman ! for a young, affectionate, trusting, and simple- hearted woman ! No, never yet was sim- plicity of heart allied to ambition. And the woman who aspires to be the idol of society, must be satisfied to give up this fair hand- maid from her train this pearl from her coronet this white rose from her wreath. When a woman's simplicity of heart is gone she is no longer safe as a friend, faithful as a sister, or tender and true as a wife. But as a mother ! nature revolts from the thought, that infant weakness should be cradled in the bosom whose simplicity is gone. Anotl er form which the love of distinction assumes, is that of singularity. I have al- ready said much on the subject of good taste, to show that it holds an important place among the excellences of woman, so much so, as almost to supply the want of judgment, where that quality is deficient Nothing, however, can more effectually prove the absence of good taste in women, than to be singular by design. Many are so consti- tuted as to be unavoidably singular ; bul even this is only reconciled by their friends on the ground that they would lose much in originality and strength of character, by study- ing to be more like the generality of women One of the most wholesome and effectual checks upon this juvenile and ill-judged de- ire to be singular, might be derived from the fact, that singularity in woman invariably excites remarks, that such remarks almost as invariably degenerate into scandal, and that scandal always destroys good influence. However innocent a woman may be, how much soever she may desire to be useful to others, the fact of her being the subject of scan- dal effectually destroys her power ; for no one likes to be dictated to by a person of whom strange things are spoken ; .and the agent of Christian benevolence is always less efficient, for being generally considered odd. Still, if the world would pause here, all might be well. But our oddities, while they provoke the laughter of the gay, seem unaccountably to have the effect of awakening the anger of the grave ; so that we not unfrequently find persons more severely reflected upon for comparatively innocent peculiarities, than for acts of real culpability. A repetition of such reflections and injuri- ous remarks passing through society, upon the principle of a snow-ball over a drifted plain, obtains in time a sort of bad name, or questionable character, for the individual against whom they are directed, which no explanation can do any thing to clear away , because founded on facts of so singular a nature, that few people understand how, in the common course of things, they could have happened, and consequently few have charity enough to believe they could origi- nate in any thing hut evil. It is thus that the character of woman so often suffers unjustly from her oddities. Strangers cannot under- stand why we acted as we did, enemies sug- gest a bad motive as the most probable, gos- sips take up the scandal, and friends in their turn believe it true ; while we, surprised am indignant that so innocent a mode of action should bear so injurious a construction, are unable to defend it, simply because it was out of the ordinary pale of human conduct, though prompted by the same motives which influence the rest of mankind. It may justly be said of the world, that in THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. one sense it is a cruel censor of woman ; but in another it is kind. It is, as I have just described, unjustly severe upon individual singularity ; but by its harsh and ready cen- sures, how many does it deter from entering upon the same course of folly, so sure to end in wounded feeling, if not in loss of influ- ence and respectability ! Let it then be kept in mind, that woman, if she would preserve her peace, her safe foot- ing in society, her influence, and her unblem- ished purity, must avoid remark as an indi- vidual, at least in public. The piquant amuse- ments of home, consist much in the display of originality of character, and there it is safe. There her feelings are understood, her mo- tives are trusted to, because they have been long known, and there the brooding wing of parental love is ever ready to shroud her peculiarities from too dangerous an exposure. In the world it is not so. Society is very false to us in this respect For the sake of an evening's entertainment, singularity is en- couraged and drawn out The mistress of the house, who wishes only to see her party amused, feels no scruple in placing this temptation before unguarded youth. But let not the ready laugh, the gay response, the flattering attention for a moment deceive you as to the real state of the case. It is " seem- ing all," and those who have been the most amused by your singularities, will not be the last to make them the subject of bitter and injurious remark. If these observations upon society should appear to any, cynical or severe, or calcula- ted to depress the natural ardor of youth, rather than direct it into safer and more wholesome channels ; it must be remembered, that my design throughout this work, is to speak of the world as it is, not merely as it ought to be ; and though I know there are circles of society, where aims, and motives, and laws of union exist, of a far higher order than to admit of the falsehood or the little- ness to which I have alluded ; yet such, it must be acknowledged, is the general tone of ordinary visiting or mixing in company, that the follies of unguarded youth meet with little candor, and still less kind correction, even among those who are associated with us as friends. I know that the voice of experience is an unwelcome one, when thus lifted up against that of the world, which speaks so smoothly in its first intercourse with the young and inexperienced ; and far more delightful would it be, to send forth the joyous spirit into social life with all its native energies un- checked. There is one grateful and welcome thought, however, which reconciles the task I have imposed upon myself. It is, that none of these energies need therefore be destroyed, or deprived of natural and invigorating exer- cise. There are home-societies, and little cho- sen circlesof tried and trusted friends ; meet- ings, perhaps, but rarely occurring, or only accidental, among those who speak with dif- ferent voices the warm familiar language of one heart ; and here it is that the genuine feelings of unsophisticated nature may safely be poured forth ; here it is that youth may live, and breathe, and be itself, alike without affectation, and without reserve ; here it is, that the spirit of joy may bound and revel unrestrained, because all around it is the at- mosphere of love, and the clear bright radi- ance of the sunshine of truth. There is yet another flight of female ambi- tion, another course which the love of distinc- tion is apt to take, more productive of folly, and of disappointment, perhaps, than all the rest It is the ambition of the female author who writes for fame. Could those young aspirants know how little real dignity there is connected with the trade of authorship, their harps would be exchanged for distaffs, their rose-tinted paper would be converted into ashes, and their Parnassus would dwindle to a molehill. Still there is something which the young heart feels in being shut out from intellectual sympathies at home something in burning and throbbing with unexpressed sensations, until their very weight and intensity become a burden not to be endured ; something in (he strong impulse of a social temperament, which longs to pour forth its testimony to the force of nature and of truth ; something in SOCIETY, FASHION, AND LOVE OF DISTINCTION. 79 those mysterious, but deep convictions, which belong to every child of earth, that some- where on this peopled globe, beneath the glow of sunnier skies ; or on the frozen plain, the desert, or the ocean ; amidst the bowers of beauty, or the halls of pride ; within the hermit's cave, the woodman's cot, or wan- dering with the flocks upon the distant hills ; there is there must be, some human or spiritual intelligence, whose imaginations, powers, and feelings, operate in concert with our own. And thus we feel, and thus we write in youth, without any higher motive, because within our homes, tracing our daily walks, or mixing with the circle called socie- ty, we find no chord of sympathy which answers to the natural music of our secret souls. All this, however, is but juvenile romance. The same want df sympathy which so often inspires the first effort of female authorship, might often find a swep-t and abundant inter- change of kindness in many a faithful heart beside the homely hearth. And after all, there is more true poetry in the fireside affec- tions of early life, than in all those sympa- thetic associations with unknown and untried developments of mind, which ever have ex- isted either among the sons or the daughters of men. Taking a more sober view of the case, there are, unquestionably, subjects of deep interest with which women have opportunities pecu- liar to themselves of becoming acquainted and thus of benefiting their fellow-creature; through the medium of their writings. But, after all, literature is not the natural channe for a woman's feelings ; and pity, not envy ought to be the meed of her who writes for the public. How much of what with other women is reserved for the select and chosen intercourse of affection, with her must be laid bare to the coarse cavillings, and coarse commendations, of amateur or professiona critics ! How much of what no woman loves to say, except to the listening ear of domestic affection, by her must be told nay, blazonec to the world ! And then, in her seasons of depression, or of wounded feeling, when he spirit yearns to sit in solitude, or even in dark^ less, so that it may be still ; to know and feel hat the very essence of that spirit, now em- )odied in a palpable form, has become an ar- ticle of sale and bargain, tossed over from the lands of one workman to another, free alike to the touch of the prince and the peasant, and no longer to be reclaimed at will by the original possessor, let the world receive it as it may ! Is such, I ask, an enviable distinction ? will offer no remarks of my own upon the unsatisfactory nature of literary fame. No man, or woman either, could write for the public, and not feel thankful for public appro- bation ; thankful for having chosen a subject generally interesting to mank : nd, and thank- ful that their own sentiments had met with sympathy from those for whose sake they had been expressed. But, on this subject, I will quote the eloquent language of one,* who bet- ter knew what contradictory elements exist in a young, an ardent, and an affectionate heart, combined with an aspiring and com manding intellect " What is fame to woman, but a dazzling degradation. She is exposed to the pitiles gaze of admiration ; but little respect, and no love, blends with it. However much as an individual she may have gained in name, it rank, in fortune, she has suffered as a woman In the history of letters, she may be associatei with men, but her own sweet life is lost ; am though, in reality, she may flow through th ocean of the world, maintaining an unsulliei current, she is nevertheless apparently ab- sorbed, and become one with the elements o tumult and distraction. She is a reed shakei with the wind ; a splendid exotic, nurture for display ; an ornament only to be worn on birth-nights and festivities; the aloe, whos blossom is deemed fabulous, because few can be said to behold it ; she is the Hebrew whos songs are demanded in a 'strange land; Ruth, standing amid the 'alien corn;' a flower, plunged beneath a petrifying spring her affections are the dew that society ex Miss Jewsbury. HI THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. hales, but gives not back to her in rain ; she is a jewelled captive, bright, and desolate, and sad !" CHAPTER VIII. GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION. As one who has been conducting an inex- perienced traveller through an enemy's coun- try, joyfully enters with him upon the territory of a well-known and familiar friend ; so the writer, whose stern duty it has been to dis- close the dangers and deceitfulness of the world to the unpractised eye of youth, de- lights to open to it that page of human life, which develops all that is most congenial to unsophisticated nature. And can any thing be more so to woman, than gratitude and af- fection 7 How much of her experience of the deepest well-springs of her feeling of those joys peculiar to herself, and with .which no stranger can intermeddle are embodied in these two words ! If our sense of obligation in general bears any proportion to our need of kindness, then has woman, above all created beings, the greatest cause for gratitude. The spirit of man, even in early life, bears a widely differ- ent impress from that of woman. The high- spirited and reckless boy flings from him half the little grievances which hang about the girl, and check her infant playfulness, send- ing her home to tell her tale of sorrow, or to weep away her griefs upon her mother's bo- som. There is scarcely a more affecting sight presented by the varied scenes of hu- man life, than a motherless or neglected little girl ; yet so strong is the feeling her situation inspires, that happily few are thus circum- stanced, without some one being found to care for and protect them. It is true, the lot of woman has trials enough peculiar to itself and the look of premature sedateness and anxiety, which sometimes hangs upon the brow of the little girl, might seem to be the shadowing forth of some vague apprehensions as to the nature of her future destiny. These trials, however, seldom arise out of unkind- ness or neglect in her childhood. The voice of humanity would be raised against such treatment ; for what living creature is so help- less and inoffensive as a little girl] The voice of humanity, therefore, almost univer- sally speaks kindly to her in early life. The father folds her tenderly in his arms, toils for her subsistence and comfort, and watches over her expanding beauty, that he may shield it from all blight The mother's heart yearns fondly as she, too, watches with more intense anxiety, lest a shadow should fall, or a rude wind should blow, upon her opening flower. Thus, while the sons in a family may perhaps call forth more of the pride and the ambition of their parents, the daughters claim almost all the tenderness, and more than an equal por- tion of watchfulness and care. And can the object of so much solicitude be otherwise than grateful 1 Oh, no. It may be more consonant with the nature and with the avocations of man, that he should go forth into the world forgetful of these things ; but woman, in the quiet brooding of her secret thoughts can she forget, how, in the days of helpless infancy, she was accustomed to escape from the rude gaze, or harsh rebuke, to find a never-failing refuge on her father's knee ; how every wish and want was whis- pered to her mother's ear, which never turn- ed away ; how all things appropriated to her use, were studiously made so safe, so easy, so suited to her taste her couch of rest, her favorite meal, her fairy-world of toys all these arranged according to her fancy, or her good ; until, all helpless, and feeble, and de- pendant as she was, no fear could break the charm of he"r security, nor sorrow, save what originated in her own bosom, could cast a shadow over the fireside pleasures of her sunny home? " No ; woman is not cannot be ungrate- ful," exclaim a thousand sweet voices at once ! Gratitude forms a part of her nature, and without it she would be unworthy of a name among her*eex! I freely grant that gratitude is a part of her nature, because GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION. there can be no generous or noble character, where gratitude is wanting. But I am not so sure that it is always directed to proper objects. Young women are almost always grateful for the notice of ladies of distinction ; they are grateful for being taken out in carriages, when they have none at home ; they are grateful for presents of ornaments, or articles of fashionable clothing which they cannot af- ford to buy ; they are grateful for being invi- ted out to pleasant parties : and, indeed, for what may they not be said to be grateful extremely grateful ? but especially so, for acts of kindness from strangers, or from persons occupying a higher station than themselves. There is a familiar saying, that charity be- gins at home ; and if by home is meant the circle immediately surrounding ourselves, surely gratitude ought also most especially to begin at home, and for this simple reason strangers may know, or imagine us to have great merits ; but with our demerits, or per- haps I ought rather to say, with that part of our character which comes under the head of disagreeableness, they must necessarily be unacquainted, because no one chooses to be disagreeable to strangers. Against them, too we have never offended, either by wor'd o act, so that they can have nothing to forgive But it is not so at home. All our evil temper and dispositions have been exhibited there and consequently the kindness received a home is the more generous. There is no on member of the family circle against whon we have not, at one time or another, offend ed, and consequently we owe them a double share of gratitude, for having kindly over looked the past, and for receiving us as cor dially to their favor as if we had never co them an uneasy thought. It is nothing, in comparison, to win the good-will of strangers The bare thought of how soon that good-wi might be withdrawn, did they know us better is sufficient of itself to pain a generous mine But it is much to continue daily and hourl to receive the kind attentions, the forbearanc and the love of those who know our meanes faults, who see us as we really are, who hav 6 x>rne with us in all our different moods for nonths and years, whom our unkindness ould not estrange, whom our indifference :ould not alienate, whom our unworthiness x>uld not repel it is, indeed, much to be still bllowed by their affection, to be protected by heir anxious care, and to be supported by heir unremitting industry and toil. Yes, and there may come a day when the young in their turn will feel " How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is To have a thankless child :" when they will see the shiile of gratitude which ought to be their own, worn only for strangers, they will think then of the days of unmurmuring labor the nights of untiring watchfulness the ages of thought and feel- ing they have lived through, and would will- ingly experience again the suffering and the shame they would endure, if that were necessary, for the sake of the beloved of their souls ; and they will wonder for to blame, they will scarce know how why nature should have left the heart of their child so void, that for all they have so lavishly bestow- ed they should receive nothing in return. If gratitude were looked upon more than it is, as a distinct duty a debt to be dis- charged without involving any other pay- ment, I am inclined to think its claims wouU be more frequently attended to, than they now are. But few young persons are in the habi of sufficiently separating gratitude from ad miration, and thus they hold themselves above being grateful in due proportion to th aged, the unenlightened, or the insignificant because they do not often feel disposed to offer to such persons the tribute of their praise Perhaps they are a little ashamed to havi owed any thing to so inferior a source ; while, i on the other hand, they are but too proud to acknowledge that they are deeply indebted to those whom they admire. Now, it is against such encroachments of vanity and selfishness, that the amiable and the high-principled are perpetually on their guard. That gratitude will not grow up with us without culture, is sufficiently evident from 99 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. the indifference with which all young children treat the donors of their little gifts; receiving them rather as their right, than as a favor. It is, therefore, an excellent habit for young people, lo bear perpetually in mind a sort of memorial, or catalogue, of the names of those by whom every article of their own personal property was given, so that even the most insignificant individual to whom they have been thus indebted, may not be forgotten. " I am naturally," says a celebrated Ger- man writer, " as little inclined to gratitude as any one ; and it would even be easy for the lively sense of a present dissatisfaction to lead me first to forget a benefit, and next to ingratitude. In order to avoid falling into this error, I early accustomed myself to take pleasure in reckoning up all I possessed, and ascertaining by whose means I acquired it I think on the persons to whom I am indebt- ed for the different articles in my collections ; I reflect on the circumstances, chances, and most remote causes, owing to which I have obtained the variors things I prize, in order to pay my tribute of gratitude to whomso- ever it is owing. All that surrounds me is thus animated in my sight, and becomes con- nected with affectionate remembrances. It is with still greater pleasure that I dwell on the objects, the possession of which does not fall within the dominion of the senses,; such as the sentiments I have imbibed, and the instruction I have received. Thus my pres- ent existence is exalted and enriched by the memory of the past ; my imagination recalls to my heart the authors of the good I enjoy ; a sweet reminiscence attends the recollection, and I am rendered incapable of ingratitude." How beautiful is the simplicity of this con- fession, from one whose mind was capacious beyond the ordinary extent of man's under- standing, and to whose genius the literary and the distinguished of alj nations were proud to offer the tribute of their praise ! How completely does this passage prove to us, that he who knew so many of the secrets of* human nature," knew also that it is not possible to begin too humbly with the ex- ercise of gratitude ! The nurse who bore the burden of our childhood, the old servant fallen into poverty and want, the neighboring cot- tager who used to let us share her orchard's scanty produce, the poor relations who took us to their lowly home when rich ones were less kind, the maiden aunt who patiently in- structed us in all her curious arts, the bache- lor uncle who kindly permitted us to derange the order of his house above all, the vener- able grandfather, and his aged helpmate, who used to tell us of the good old ways, and warn us against breaking down the ancient landmarks all these are pleasant household memories, which ought to cling about the heart until they grow into our very being, and become identified with the elements of thought, and feeling, which constitute our life. There is in fact a species of cruelty, as well as in- justice, in disentangling the memory from these early associations. To have received our very nature, our principles, the bias of our sentiments, all that which is understood by distinctiveness of character, from the hands of these old friends, and not to look back and acknowledge it with thankfulness, though the casual notice of a passing stran- ger furnishes food for gratitude the fact is scarcely to be thought of, still less believed ; and we look to the daughters of England to ^how us that they know better how to bestow their gratitude. When the nature of gratitude is considered in its proper light, as a debt which we have contracted, and which consequently must be discharged, we see at once that the merit or demerit of the individual to whom we owe this debt, has nothing whatever to do with our payment of it A generous mind would perhaps feel more bound to discharge it to an unworthy object, simply because where re- spect or love was wanting, grateful feeling would be all that could with propriety be of- fered. But, as in all such cases, the debt, though just, must still be painful and humili- ating, it is of the utmost importance, both to young and old, that they should be careful never to be the willing recipients of obliga- tions from persons whom they neither love nor esteem. The young need great watch- GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION. 83 fulness in this respect, and sometimes, from their over-willingness to incur obligations, involve themselves in connections and asso- ciations highly disadvantageous. It is an excellent plan for young women, always to put this question to themselves be- fore they accept an offered kindness. "Is the person who offers it, one whom I should like to feel indebted to ! or am I prepared to make all the return of gratitude to that per- son, which would, under similar circum- stances, be due to the most praiseworthy and distinguished individual of my acquaint- ance 1 !" If the answer be in the negative, nothing but a meanness of spirit, of which I cannot believe the daughters of England to be capable, could lead to the acceptance of such an obligation. In this, therefore, as well as in all other cases, it is of the utmost importance that gratitude should be considered as a distinct feeling, in no way involving any other. It sometimes happens, however, and especially during the present rapid march of intellect, that the junior members of a family are far in advance of their parents in the cultivation of their intellectual powers, and this differ- ence occasionally leads to a want of respect towards the heads of the family, which is alike distressing and disgraceful. On the other hand, there are young women, (and happy would it be for our nation, if all the daughters of England were such,) who, re- membering that their parents, however hum- ble and unenlightened, are their parents still ; that by their self-denial and their toil, and as the highest proof of their regard, they have received the education which makes them so much to differ make it their constant study to offer to them tokens of respect and regard of such a nature as not to draw forth their intellectual deficiencies, but to place them on the higher ground of moral excellence. How beautiful, how touching is the solicitude of such young persons, to guard the venera- ted brow from shame ; and to sacrifice even something of the display of their own en- dowments, rather than outshine those who, with all their deficiencies, still were the ora- cles of their infant years, and who unques- tionably did more during the season of child- hood, towards the formation of their real character, than has since been done by the merely intellectual discipline of schools. Yes, we may owe our grammar, our geogra- phy, our music, and our painting, to what are called the instructors of our youth ; but the seeds of moral character are sown by those who surround us in infancy ; and how much soever we may despise the hand by which that seed is scattered, the bias of our moral being is derived from that agent more than from any other. How just, then, and how true, is that de- velopment of youthful gratitude which looks back to these early days, and seeks to return into the bosom of parental love, the treasures of that harvest which parental love has sown ! And it is meet that youth should do this youth, whose very nature it is to be redun- dant with the rills of life, and fruitful in joy, and redolent in bloom, from the perpetual flowing forth of its own glad waters youth, which is so rich in all that gladdens and ex- hilarates ; how can it be penurious and nig- gardly in giving out ] No, nature has been so munificent to youth, it cannot ^et have learned the art of grudging ; and gratitude, the most liberal, the most blessed of all hu- man feelings, was first required of us as a debt, that we might go on paying according to our measure, through all the different sta- ges of existence ; and though we may never have had money or rich gifts, the poorest among us has been able to pay in kindness, and sometimes in love. In the cultivation and exercise of the be- nevolent feelings of our nature, there is this beautiful feature to be observed in the order of divine providence that expenditure never exhausts. Thus the indulgence of gratitude, and the bestowment of affection, instead of impoverishing, render more rich the fountain whence both are derived ; while, on the other hand, the habit of withholding our generous affections, produces the certain effect of checking their growth, and diminishing the spontaneous effusion of kindness. 84 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. The habit of encouraging feelings of grati- tude towards our fellow-creatures, of recall- ing their friendly and benevolent offices to- wards ourselves, of thinking what would have been our situation without them, and, in short, of reckoning up the items of the great debt we all have incurred, especially in infancy and youth, has a most beneficial effect upon the mind, in the bias it gives towards the feeling and expression of gratitude in general, not only as confined to the inter- course of social life, or the interchange of kindness among our fellow-creatures, but with regard to the higher obligations of grati- tude, which every child of sin and sorrow must feel, on being admitted to participation in the promises of the gospel, and the glori- ous hopes which the gospel was sent to in- spire. I have said, that women, above all created beings, have cause for gratitude. Deprived of the benefits of the Christian dispensation, woman has ever been, and will be ever the most abject, and the most degraded of crea- tures, oppressed in proportion to her weak- ness, and miserable in proportion to her capa- bility of suffering. Yet, under the Christian dispensation, she who was the first in sin, is raised to an equality with man, and made his fellow-heir in the blessings of eternal life. Nor is this all. A dispensation which had permitted her merely to creep, and grovel through this life, so as to purchase by her patient sufferings a title to the next, would have been unworthy of that law of love by which pardon was offered to a guilty world. In accordance with the ineffable benevolence of this law, woman was therefore raised to a moral, as well as a spiritual equality with man ; and from being first his tempter, and then his slave, she has become his helpmate, his counsellor, his friend, the object of his most affectionate solicitude, the sharer of his dignity, and the partaker in his highest enjoy- ments. When we compare the situation of wo- man, too, in our privileged land, with what it is even now in countries where the Christian religion less universally prevails, we cannot help exclaiming, that of all women upon earth, those who live under the salutary in- fluence of British laws and British institu- tion?, have the deepest cause for gratitude. And can the daughters of Britain be regard- less of these considerations 1 Will they not rather study how to pay back to their coun- try, in the cultivation and exercise of their best feelings, the innumerable advantages they are thus deriving. And what is the sacrifice 7 Oh, blessed dispensation of love ! that we are never so happy as when feel- ing grateful, and never so well employed, as when acting upon this feeling ! While, then, they begin first by retracing all the little rills of kindness by which their cup of benefit has been filled, let them not pause in thought, until they have counted up every item of that vast catalogue of blessings which extend from human instrumentality, to divine ; nor let them pause in action, until they have rendered every return which it is possible for a finite being, aided by watchful- ness and prayer, to make. What a subject for contemplation does this view of gratitude afford, to those who say they find nothing to interest them in human life ! What a field of exercise for those who complain that they find nothing to do ! Affection, too, is a subject in which the in- terests of woman are deeply involved, be- cause affection in a peculiar manner consti- tutes her wealth. Beyond the sphere of her affections, she has nothing, and is nothing. Let her talents be what they may, without af- fection they can only be compared to a splen- did casket, where the gem is wanting. Af- fection, like gratitude, must begin at home. Let no man choose for the wife of his bosom, a woman whose affections are not warm, and cordial, and ever flowing forth at her own fireside. Yet there are young women whose behavior in society, and among those whom they call their friend?, exhibits every sign of genuine affection, who are yet cold, indiffer- ent, and inconsiderate to their brotht ters, and parents. These are the women against whom men ought to be especially warned, for sure I am, that such affection GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION. 85 ought never to be trusted to, as that which is only called into life by the sunshine of so- ciety, or the excitement of transient inter- course with comparative strangers. Affection also resembles gratitude in this, that the more we bestow, the more we feel, provided only it is bestowed upon safe and suitable objects. It is the lavish and reckless expenditure of this treasure in early life, and simply under the direction of fancy, without regard to natural claims, which so often leaves the heart of its possessor poor, and cold, and joyless. Here, then, the claims of nature and of home may always be attended to with safety. No young girl can be too affectionate at home, because the demerits of a brother, a sister, or a parent, except in some rare and peculiar instances, constitute no disqualification for be- ing the recipients either of her gratitude or her affection. But her approval and her ad- miration must still be kept distinct, lest her affection for an unworthy relative should ren- der her insensible to the exact line of demar- cation between moral good and evil. Were it not thus wisely and mercifully permitted us to continue to love our nearest connections, even when not deserving of general esteem, where would the prodigal, or the outcast, be able to find a shelter, when the horrors of a wounded conscience might drive them back from the ways of guilt 1 The mother's heart is subject to a higher, holier law than that which separates her erring child from the fel- lowship of mankind ; the father meets his re- turning son while yet afar off; and the sister can she withhold her welcome ? can she neglect the study of all those little arts of love, by which a father's home may be rendered as alluring as the world 7 While the young of both sexes are suffer- ing from the consequences of a system of ed- ucation, under which the cultivation of moral principle bears no proportion to the cultiva- tion of the intellectual powers, it is desirable to offer all the assistance we can in the im- provement of that portion of human charac- ter which is at once the most important and the most neglected. In order to strengthen the good resolutions of those who are really desirous of paying the attention and the re- spect to old age which is justly its due, I would suggest to the accomplished young reader, an idea which it is highly probable may never before have crossed her mind, but which I feel assured will stain her cheek with shame, if she has ever allowed herself to treat her pa- rents, or even her grand-parents with con- tempt, as inferior in the scale of consideration to herself, because of their want of mental cultivation. Let her remember, then, whatever their de- ficiency in other points of wisdom may be, that there is one in which they must be her superiors. She may occasionally be obliged to correcT their grammatical inaccuracies ; she may be able not only to dazzle them with her accomplishments, but even to baffle them in argument ; yet there is one fundamental part of true knowledge, in consideration of which, every youthful head must bow to age. Not ten thousand times the sum of money expended on your education would be suffi- cient to purchase this treasure of human wis- dom for you. And there sits the aged wo- man, with her white locks, and her feeble hands, a by-word, and perhaps a jest, from the very helplessness of worn-out nature ; yet, all the while, this humble and neglected being may be rich in the wealth which princes are too poor to buy ; for she is rich in experience, and that is where you are poor. The simple being you despise has lived to see the work- ing out of many systems, the end of many beginnings, the detection of much falsehood, the development of much truth ; in short, the operation of principles upon the lives and conduct of men ; and here, in this most im- portant point of wisdom, you are you must be her inferior. The wisdom of experience, independently of every other consideration, presents a strong claim upon the respectful attention of youth, in cases where propriety of conduct is a dis- puted point between parent and child. Young persons sometimes think their parents too se- vere in the instructions they would enforce ; but let it ever be remembered, that those pa- THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. rents have experience to direct them ; and that, while the child is influenced only by in- clination, or opinion, founded upon what must at least be a very limited and superfi- cial knowledge of things in general, the opin- ion of the parent is founded upon facts, which have occurred during a far longer ac- quaintance with human nature, and with what is called the world. Let the experience of the aged, then, be weighed against your modern acquirements, and even without the exercise of natural af- fection, we find that they are richly entitled to your respectful attention. But there is something beyond this consideration in the overflowing of the warm and buoyant feel- igs of youth, which so naturally ami so beau- tifully supply the requirements of old age, that scarcely can we picture to ourselves a situa- tion more congenial to the daughters of Eng- land, than one of those fireside scenes, where venerated age is treated with the gratitude and affection which ought ever to be consid- ered as its due. It sometimes happens that the cares and the anxieties of parental love have a second time to be endured by those who have had to mourn the loss of their immediate offspring. Perhaps a family of orphan sons and daugh- ters have become their charge, at a time oi life when they had but little strength of body, or buoyancy of spirit, to encounter the turbu- lence of childhood, and the waywardness o1 youth. How admirably, then, are the char- acter and the constitution of woman adapted to the part which it becomes her duty and her privilege to act. Even the kindest among boys would scarcely know how to accommo- date himself to the peculiarities of old age But woman has an intuitive perception o these things ; and the little playful girl can be gentle and still, the moment she sees that her restlessness or loud mirth would offend. And what woman, I would ask, was ever less estimable for this early exercise of self discipline 1 None can begin too soon. The labor of love is never difficult, except to thosi who have put off compliance with this sacre( duty until too late in life ; or who, while th flections of the heart were young and warm, lave centred them in self, and lived for self alone. The social scenes upon which imagi- nation loves to dwell, are those where self las never found a place among the house- lold gods. They are those where the daugh- ers of a family, from the oldest to the very nfant, are all too happy in the exercise of their affections, to think of self. Theirs is a relative existence, and their enjoyments con- sist more in giving than receiving. Affec- tions thus cherished in the' cordial intercourse of home, may early be sent forth on errands of kindness to all who are fortunate enough to come within the sphere of their opera- tions ; and happy is the man who chooses from such a family the companion of his earthly lot ! CHAPTER IX. FRIENDSHIP AND FLOTATION. How much of what is most lovely, and most valuable to us in the course of our earthly experience, arises out of the poverty and the feebleness of our nature. Friend- ship would never have existed, but for the absolute want of the human heart, from its utter inability to perform the functions of life without a participator in its joys, a recipient of its secrets, and a soother of its sorrows. Youth is the season when we most feel this want ; later in life, we learn as it were to stand alone. Interests and claims, which have little to do with the affections, press up- on us on every hand, and hem us into a nar- row and accustomed path, from which there is little temptation to deviate. But in youth we seem to walk at large, with no boundary to our horizon ; and the fear and uncertain- ty which necessarily attend our movements, render a companion, with whom we may con- sult, deliberate, and sympathize, absolutely necessary to our cheerfulness and support. It is a subject of surprise to many, that the young so seldom enter into close and intimate FRIENDSHIP AND FLIRTATION. 87 friendship with the members of their own family. Were this more frequently the case, how much more candor and simplicity of heart would mingle with the intercourse of friends ! To the members of our own fami- ly, we must of necessity appear as we really are. No false or flattering aspect can de- ceive those whose eyes are constantly upon our conduct ; and we are consequently less tempted to put forward our best feelings before them, in the hope of concealing our worst. In such intimacies the nearest friends have the least suspicion of each other's truth. Af- ter-circumstances can bring forth no unex- pected development of character on either side ; nor can there be the wounded feeling, which falsehood, however unpremeditated or unconsciously practised, never fails to pro- duce. Again, there would be the strength of natural ties to mingle with this bond the rec- ollections of childhood, the oft-repeated for- giveness, the gratitude to which allusion has already been made all these would blend to- gether in a union the most sacred, and the most secure, which perhaps is ever found on earth. Nor do I scruple to call this union the most secure, because it is the only intimacy in which every thing can with propriety be told. There are private histories belonging to every fanyly, which, though they operate powerful- ly upon individual happiness, ought never to be named beyond the home-circle ; and there are points of difference in character, and mutual misapprehensions, with instances of wounded feeling, and subjects of reproof and correction, which never can be so freely touched upon, even in the most perfect union of conjugal affection. On this subject, how- ever, I have already spoken so fully in an- other work,* that little room is left for further notice here : I will, therefore, only allude to some of the causes which I believe most fre- quently operate against young persons choos- ing their confidants at home, and especially for the communication of their religious feel- ings or impressions. * The Women of England. It is a melancholy thought, that the want of consistency in the private and domestic habits of religious professors, may possibly be the means of inducing young persons to seek their spiritual advisers among those with whom they are less intimately acquainted, and of whom they have consequently formed a high- er estimate ; while, on the other hand, a dif- fidence of themselves, perhaps a misgiving, both as to their past and future conduct, ren- ders them unwilling to communicate fully and freely with those who daily watch their steps, lest the suspicion of hypocrisy should fall up- on them for having given utterance to senti- ments and emotions, so much at variance with the general course of their lives. That these hindrances to home-confidence should sometimes exist, where the parties are perfectly sincere in their good intentions, I am quite prepared to believe ; but there are oth- er cases, and perhaps more frequent ones, in which the sincerity is less perfect, where the dread of being committed to any particular line of conduct consistent with the sentiments or emotions expressed, operates against their being so much as spoken of to any who com- pose the family circle. It would be taking a dark view of human nature, indeed, to suppose that those who know us best are less disposed than strangers to attach themselves to us ; yet, I would ask the young aspirant to intimacy with a new acquaintance, whether she is entering upon that intimacy with a sincere and candid wish to be to that friend exactly what she is at home"? If not, she is, to all intents and pur- poses, a deceiver. And there is much deceit in all our early friendships, though I am far from supposing it to be all intentional. In- deed, I am convinced it is not, because this heart-searching process is what few young persons submit to, before commencing an in- timacy. In friendship, as well as in all other recip- rocal engagements, it is highly important to limit our expectations of benefit according to the exact measure of our deserts; and by this means we may avoid many of those bit- ter disappointments, for which the world is THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. so unjustly and unsparingly blamed. The world is bad enough ; but let us be honest, and take our share of condemnation, for making at least one item of the world such as it is ; and by thus acquiring the habit of strict and candid self-examination in early life, we see ihat we have little right to charge the world with falsehood, when our first en- gagement, beyond the circle of our own fam- ily, has been entered into by a system of de- ceit There is, too, a rashness and impetuosity in the formation of early friendships, which of themselves are sufficient to render such intimacies uncertain, and of short duration. Few characters can be considered as really formed, under the age of twenty-one, or twenty-five ; yet friendships sometimes be- gin at a much earlier date. It is not in na- ture, then, that the friend we loved at sixteen, should be the same to us at twenty-six ; or that the features of our own character should have undergone no change during that pe- riod. Yet it must not be called falsehood, or fickleness either, which causes such friend- ships to fail. It is consistent with the laws of reason, and of nature, that they should do so ; for had the same individuals who thus deplore each other's falsehood, met for the first time at the age of twenty-six, they' would probably each have been the very last which the other would have chosen as a friend. Again, there must be an equality in friend- ship, to render it either lasting or desirable an equality not only in rank and elation, but, as far as may be, in intellectual advantages. However warm may be the attachment of two friends of different rank in society, they must occasionally be involved in dilemmas, from which it is impossible to escape without wounded feeling, either on one side or both. Each of these friends, it must be remembered, will have her relatives and connections, through whom her pride will be perpetually subject to imaginary insult, and her suscepti- bility to real pain. Those who are inferior in mind are, however, much more objectionable as friends, than those who are inferior only in worldly circumstances ; because they must always be incapable of judging of persons more highly gifted than themselves, and thus they will bestow their praise and their blame with equal injustice. The ignorant, too, are always prejudiced; and, therefore, in the choice of friends whose minds are unen- lightened, the young must necessarily incur the risk -of imbibing opinions formed upon false conclusions, which in all probability will exercise a powerful influence upon the whole of their subsequent lives. Young people are too apt to think the only use of talent is to interest in conversa- tion ; if, then, they find themselves interested without it, they are satisfied to dispense with this quality in a friend. But how empty how unprofitable must become that intimacy where mind is not taken into account how worthless, how unsatisfactory in every case of trial, the society of that friend who cannot advise, as well as pity ! Were it not for equality being requisite to fhe mutual participation of the pleasures of friendship, I should strongly recommend all young persons to seek a friend among those who are older, and more experienced than themselves. In this case, however, too much must not be expected in return, for it is scarcely possible that the confiding intimacy of a young girl should always be interesting, or even acceptable to a woman more ad- vanced in life ; unless, indeed, the kindness of relationship should render the office of the elder confidant a welcome duty. Regardless of these wholesome rules, it is more than probable that the greater part of my young readers will go on forming inti- macies according to circumstances, or indi- vidual fancy, and with little reference to fu- ture consequences. In time, however, some of these intimacies will become irksome, while others will die away. It will then be- come a serious question, " Whom shall I en- deavor to retain as friends]" Try, then, to ascertain, in this stage of your short experi- ence, whose society has had the happiest effect upon your own character ; and let not this great question remain unsettled, until FRIENDSHIP AND FLIRTATION. you have ascertained, with regard to each one of the individuals who have composed your circle of nominal friends, whether they have generally left you better or worse for a day spent in their company more willing to submit to the requirements of religious duty, or more disposed to consider those require- ments unreasonable and severe. The pleasure or amusement immediately derived from the society of an individual, is a dangerous and deceitful test by which to try the value of their friendship ; but the di- rect influence of their society upon our own state of mind, not while they are with us, but after the charm of their society is with- drawn, is a means of judging, which no ra- tional and responsible being ought to neglect If, for instance, in the circle of our favorite associates, there is one who habitually awa- kens the laughter of merriment, and charms into magic fleetness the hours you pass to- gether ; yet if the same individual leaves you flat, and dull, and indisposed for the use- ful and less pleasing occupations of life ; be- ware of making her your friend. But if there be another who, possibly less amusing at the time you converse together, yet leaves you raised above the common level of expe- rience, by the support of true and lofty prin- ciples ; disposed to reject what is false or mean, and to lay hold on what is good ; liftea out of the slavery of what is worldly or trifling, and made stronger in every gen- erous purpose, and every laudable endeavor; let the friendship of that individual be bound around your heart, and cherished to the end of life, as one of the richest blessings per- mitted us to enjoy on earth. By this rule, those who are candidates for our friendship, may safely be tried ; but there is yet a closer test, which must be applied to friendship itself. If the friend you have cho- sen, never attempts to correct your faults, or make you better than you are, she is not worthy of the name ; nor ought she to be fully confided in, whatever may be the ex- tent of her kindness to you, or the degree of her admiration of your character. Having well chosen your friend, the next thing is, to trust her, and to show that you do so. Mutual trust is the strongest cement of all earthly attachments. We are so con- scious of weakness ourselves, that v^ need this support from others ; and no compliment paid to the ear of vanity was ever yet so powerful in its influence, as even trie sim- plest proof of being trusted. The one may excite a momentary thrill of pleasure, the other serves, for many an after day, to nour- ish the life-springs of a warm and generous heart. It is needless to say how effectually a sus- picious, or a jealous temper, destroys this truth. If we really loved our friends as we ought, and as we probably profess to love them, we should be less watchful of their conduct towards ourselves, than of ours to them ; nor should we grudge them the inti- macy of other friends, when conducive to their enjoyment, if our own attachment was based upon pure and disinterested affection. Friendship, which is narrowed up between two individuals, and confined to that number alone, is calculated only for the intercourse of married life, and seldom has been main- tained with any degree of lasting benefit or satisfaction, even by the most romantic and affectionate of women. True friendship is of a more liberal and expansive nature, and seldom flourishes so well as when extended through a circle. A circle of young female friends, who love and trust each other, who mutually agree to support the weak in their little community, to confirm the irresolute, to reclaim the erring, to soothe the irritable, and to solace the distressed ; what a realization does this picture present of the brightest dreams of imagination, when we think what woman might be in this world to her own sex, and to the community at large ! And is this, then, too much to expect from the daughters of England that woman should be true to woman 1 In the circle of her pri- vate friends, as well as from her own heart, she learns what constitutes the happiness and the misery of woman, what is her weakness and what her need, what her bane and what her blessing. She learns to comprehend the 90 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. deep mystery of that electric chain of feeling which ever vibrates through the heart of wo- man, and which man, with all his philosophy, can never understand. She learns that every touch of that chain is like the thrilling of a nerve ; and she thus acquires a power pecu- liar to herself, of distinguishing exactly be- tween the links which thrill with pleasure, and those which only thrill with pain. Thus, while her sympathy and her tender- ness for a chosen few is strengthened by the bond of friendship into which she has entered, though her confidence is still confined to them, a measure of the same sympathy and tender- ness is extended to the whole sisterhood of her sex, until, in reality, she becomes what woman ever must be in her noblest, purest, holiest character the friend of woman. What should we think of a community of slaves, who betrayed each other's interests ? of a little band of shipwrecked mariners upon a friendless shore, who were false to each other? of the inhabitants of a defenceless na- tion, who would not unite together in earnest- ness and good faith against a common enemy 1 We are accustomed to hear, of the meanness of the powerful, when they forsake the weak ; but there is a meanness of a lower grade when the weak forsake each other. No party, however, can be weak, which has truth for its element, and love for its bond of union. Women are only weak in their vanity, their selfishness, their falsehood to each other. In their integrity, their faithful- ness, their devoted affection, they rise to an almost superhuman eminence ; because they are strong in the elements of immaterial be- ing, and powerful in the nature which is ca- pable, when regenerated, of being shared with angels. From the nature of true friendship, we turn to the consideration of what are its require- ments. These, also, are mutual. If we ex- pect to receive, we must be studious to give. An interchange of kind offices and evident proofs of affection are essential to the vitality of friendship ; avoiding, however, the slightest approach to any thing like a debtor and creditor account of the number of presents given or received, or even of the number of letters exchanged. It seems a strange anomaly in friendship, that young persons, however ardently attach- ed, should so seldom write, except when a letter is considered to be due by a certain length of time having elapsed since the last was received. It often happens, that one friend is particularly engaged, while the other has an abundance of unoccupied time ; but a letter is still required by the idle party, or the love which she thinks so glowing and so tender, finds no channel of expression to her friend. Perhaps a friend is ill ; and then is the time, above all others, when real love would dictate a succession of kind letters, such as would not tax the afflicted, or the feeble one, with the effort of making any re- turn. There is, in fact, a mystery about the letter-writing of young women, which I have never been able fully to understand. It oc- cupies their time ; it used to drain their purses, or the purses of their friends ! it calls forth more complaining than almost any thing else they have to do ; the letters they receive are seldom fraught with much interest ; and yet they plunge into this reciprocity of annoyance, as if the chief business of life was to be wri- ing or receiving letters. Still, I am very far from supposing that this means of interchanging sentiment nd thought, might not be rendered highly bene- ficial to the youthful mind ; because I believe writing is of great importance as a branch of education. Without this habit, few persons, and especially women, think definitely. The accustomed occupation of their minds is that of musing ; and they are, consequently, sel- dom able to disentangle a single clear idea from the currant of vague thoughts, which they suffer perpetually to flow, and which affords them a constant, but, at the same time, a profitless amusement, in the variety of ideas it presents, alike without form, and void. But, in order to write with any degree of per- spicuity, we are, to a certain extent, compel- led to think ; and consequently, the habit of writing letters, if 4V -~ subject-matter be well chosen, might be rendered highly advantage- FRIENDSHIP AND FLIRTATION. 01 ous to young women, who, on the termina- tion of their scholastic exercises, require, more than at any other time of life, some frequently recurring mental occupation, to render their education complete. The art of writing a really good letter ranks unquestionably among the most valuable ac- complishments of woman, and next to that of conversing well. In both cases, the first thing to be avoided, is common-place; be- cause, whatever partakes of the natureof com- mon-place, is not only vulgar, but ineffective. I know not how I can better define this term, so frequently used, and so little under- stood, than by saying that common-place con- sists chiefly in speaking of things by their little qualities, rather than their great ones. Thus it is common-place to speak of religious persons as using cant, to speak of distinguish- ed characters as being well or ill-dressed, and to speak of the works of Shakspeare as be- ing peculiar in their style. It is also common- place to use those expressions of kindness, or sympathy, which custom has led us to expect as a matter of course. And we never feel this more, than in cases of affliction or death ; because there is a kind of set phraseology made use.of on such occasions, which those who really feel would often be glad to vary, if they only knew how. It is common-place to speak of some fact as recently discovered, to those who have long known it. But above all that is genuine in common-place, the kind of flattery generally adopted by men, when they mean to address themselves pleasantly to women, deserves the credit of pre-emi- nence. Indeed, so deficient, for the most part, is this flattery, in point, originality, and adaptation, that I have known sensible wo- men, who felt more really flattered by the most humiliating truths, even plainly spoken ; because such treatment implied a confidence in their strength of mind and good sense, in being able to bear it. Common-place letters are such as, but for the direction, would have done as well for any other individual as the one to whom they are addressed. In description especially, it is desirable to avoid common-place. A cor- respondent making a tour of the Lakes, tells you that on such a day she set off to the sum- mit of Helvellyn. That the first part of the ascent was steep and difficult, the latter more easy ; that the view from the summit was magnificent, extending over so many lakes, and so many other mountains ; and there ends the story ; and well for you, if it does end there. But such writers unfortunately often go on through a whole catalogi^e of beauties and sublimities, no single one of which they set before you in such a manner as to render it one whit more attractive, or in- deed more peculiar in any of its features, than the king's highway. In the vain hope of avoiding common- place, some young writers have recourse to extravagant expressions when describing lit- tle things ; a mode of writing, which, besides being the medium of falsehood, leaves them in the uncomfortable predicament of having no language adequate to what is great. It is difficult to say what is the direct opposite of common-place, without giving lengthened quotations from the best style of epistolary correspondence, with which the lit- erature of our country during the last cen- tury abounds. There is a quality both in writing and conversation, to which I can give no other name than freshness, which is not only opposite in its nature and effect to common-place, but on which I believe de- pends more than half the pleasure and amuse- ment we derive from the intercourse of mind with mind. Few persons possess this charm ; because few are humble enough to suppose that it would be any advantage to them ; and those who do, are always in danger of losing it by writing too much. The letters of a woman of moderate abilities, and limited sphere of observation, may possess this great beauty ; while those of a more highly gifted, or accomplished writer, may want it ; be- cause it must ever depend upon a capability of receiving vivid impressions, combined with a certain degree of simplicity of heart. The first consideration in commencing a letter should be, " What is my object in wri- ting it?" If simply for the relief of your own 92 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. mind you take up the pen, remember that such a communication can only be justified by pressing and peculiar circumstances, and that it ought only to be addressed to the nearest and dearest of your friends, whose love for you is of such a nature as to pardon so selfish an act A higher object in writing, is to give pleas- ure, or afford benefit, to an absent friend ; it is therefore necessary to place yourself in idea in her circumstances, and consider what she would most wish to know. If her affec- tion for you be such, and such I am aware affection often is, that she has no desire be- yond that of receiving intelligence concerning yourself, let your descriptions of your state and circumstances be clear and fresh ; so that she may see you as you really are, and, as it were, live with you through the enjoyments or the trials of every day. How strong and lively may be the impressions thus conveyed how deep the interest they excite, provided only the writer will condescend to be suffi- ciently simple sufficiently sincere ! ' It is, however, only under peculiar circum- stances, such as change of scene and situa- tion, that young persons can have much of this kind to communicate. What then are they to say ? Shall the minute details of fam- ily affairs be raked up, to fill their letters! This is at least a dangerous alternative, more especially as it too frequently induces a habit of exaggeration, in order to make what is called " a good story" out of a mere trifle ; and thus, that worst kind of falsehood, which is partly true, becomes perpetuated through the medium of pen and paper. To avoid this danger on the one hand, and the weariness of writing without any thing to say, on the other, would it not be practicable for young women to agree, for their own improvement and that of their friends, to correspond on some given subject, and if unequal to the task of treating it in a style of an essay, they might at least relate to each other some important or amusing facts, which they had met with in the course of their reading, and by relating them in their own language, and roperty, to serve a selfish end ; all which lave had a degrading effect upon the charac- er, and which in their worst consequences lave led to one falsehood made use of to con- ceal another, and a third or a fourth to cover both. But if childhood is beset with these tempta- ions, how much has woman to guard against, when she first mixes with society, and enters the disputed ground, where, to be most agree- able, constitutes the strongest title to posses- sion ! She is then tempted to falsehood, not n her words only, but in her looks ; for there s a degree of integrity in looks, as well as in xpressions; and I am not quite sure that the woman who can look a falsehood, is not a worse deceiver than she who only tells one. All sweetness of look and manner, assumed for the purpose of gaining a point, or answer- ing a particular end, comes under this de- scription of artifice. Many persons who cannot conscientiously assent to what is said, assume a look of sympathy or approval, which sufficiently answers the purpose of deception, and at the same time escapes all risk of discovery as such. Thus, an implied asser/ by a smile and a nod, to what we do not believe, nften spares us the trouble and pain of exposing, O ur real sentiments, where they are unpopular. O r would be likely to meet with inconveniew- opposition. Still I should be tarry to set down all per- sons who smile, and nthe wrong account. I cannot for an instant suppose that s. Christian woman, under any circumstances, even the most difficult and perplexing, could be under the slightest temptation to appro- priate to her own use, for a month, a week, a day* or an hour, the minutest item of what she had collected for another purpose, trust- ing to her own future resources for its reim- bursement ; because this would be a species of dishonesty, which, if once admitted as a principle of conduct, would be liable to termi- nate in the most fearful and disastrous con- sequences. It is the privilege of the daugh- ters of England, that they have learned a code of purer morals, than to admit even such a thought, presented under the form of an available means of escape from difficulty, or attainment of gratification. Still it is well to fortify the mind, as far as we are able, against temptation of every kind, that if it should occur and who can be secure against it 1 we may not be taken unawares by an enemy whose assaults are sometimes as in- sidious, as they are always untiring. One of the means I would now propose to the young reader, is to turn with serious at- tention to the case of Ananias and Sapphira, as related in the Acts of the Apostles ; nor let it be forgotten, that this appalling act of moral delinquency, originating in selfishness, and terminating in falsehood, was the first sin which had crept into the fold of Christ, after the Shepherd had been withdrawn, and while the flock remained in a state approach- ing the nearest to that of perfect holiness, which we have reason to believe was ever experienced on this earth, since the time when sin first entered into the world. Yes, it is an awful and impressive thought, that even in this state, temptation was allow- ed to present itself in such a form, accom- | panied with a desire still to stand well with the faithful, even after integrity was gone The words of Peter are most memorable on this occasion : While it remained, was it not thine own ? and after it was so/rf, was it not in thine own power? Evidently implying, that it was better not to pretend to act upon high and generous principles, than not to do so faithfully- He then concludes in this em- phatic language : " Tkou has not lied unto 119 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. men, but unto God." By which we learn, that every species of dishonesty practised between the soul and its Maker, is equally offensive in the sight of God, as that which is evident to men ; and that there is no clear, upright, and faithful walk for any human be- ing in this world, whether young or old, whether rich or poor, whether exalted or lowly, but that which is in strict accordance with the principles of integrity. CHAPTER XII. DEDICATION OF YOUTH. WITHOUT having made any pretension in this volume to class it under the head of a religious work, I have endeavored to render it throughout conducive to the interests of religion, by pointing out those minor duties of life, and those errors of society, which strictly religious writers almost universally consider as too insignificant for their atten- tion. And, perhaps, it is not easy to inter- weave these seeming trifles in practice, with the great fundamental principles of Christian faith. I cannot but think, however, that to many, and'especially to the young, this minuteness of detail may have its use, by bringing home to their attention familiar instances upon which Christian principle may be brought to bear. For I am one of those who think that religion ought never to be treated or consid- ered as a thing set apart from daily and fa- miliar use, to be spoken of as belonging al- most exclusively to sabbaths, and societies, and serious reading. To me it appears that the influence of religion should be like an atmosphere, pervading all things connected with our being ; that it ought to constitute the element in which the Christian lives, more than the sanctuary into which he re- tires. When considered in this point of view, nothing can be too minute to be sub- mitted to the test of its principles ; so that, instead of our worldly and our spiritual con- cerns occupying two distinct pages in our experience, the one, according to this rule, becomes regulated by our spiritual views ; and the other applied to our worldly avoca- tions, as well as to our eternal interests. In relation to this subject it has been re- marked, in the quaint language of an old writer, that no sin is "little in itself, because there is no little law to be despised no little heaven to be lost no little hell to be en- dured ;" and it is by this estimate that I would value every act, and every thought, in which the principles of good and evil are involved. The great question, whether the principles of Christian faith, or, in other words, wheth- er the religion of the Bible, shall be adopted as the rule of conduct by the young, remains yet to be considered, not in relation to the nature of that faith, but as regards the de- sirableness of embracing it at an early period of life, willingly and entirely, with earnest- ness as well as love. I am writing thus on the supposition, that, with all who read these pages, convictions of the necessity and excellence of personal re- ligion have at one time or other been experi- enced. The opinion is general, and, I be- lieve, correct, that the instances are extremely rare in which the Holy Spirit does not awa- ken the human soul to a sense of its real situation as an accountable being, passing through a state of probation, before entering upon an existence of endless duration. Nor among young persons born of Christian pa- rents, and educated in a Christian country, where the means of religious instruction are accessible to all, is it easy to conceive that such convictions have not, at times, been strong and deep ; though, possibly, they may have been so neglected as to render their re- currence less frequent, and less powerful in their influence upon the mind. Still it is good to recall the time when the voice of warning, and of invitation, was first heard ; to-revisit the scene of a father's faith- ful instruction, and of the prayers of a lost mother ; to hear again the sabbath-evening sermon ; to visit the cottage of a dying DEDICATION OF YOUTH. 119 Christian ; or even to look back once more into the chamber of infancy, where our first tears of real penitence were shed. Iris good to remember how it \vas with us in those by- gone days when we welcomed the chastise- ments of love, and kissed the rod that was stretched forth by a Father's hand. How blest did we then feel, in the belief that we were not neglected, not forgotten, not over- looked ! Has any thing which the world we have too much loved has since offered us, af- forded a happiness to be compared with this belief] Oh! no. Then why not hearken, when the same voice is still inviting you to come 1 and why not comply when the same hand is still pointing out the way to peace ? What is the hindrance which stands in your way 1 What is the difficulty which prevents the dedication of your youth to God ] Let this question be seriously asked, and fully answered ; for it is of immense importance that you should know on what grounds the invitations of the Holy Spirit have been re- jected, and why you are adopting another rule of conduct than that which is prescribed in the gospel of Christ. I repeat, it is of immense importance, be- cause this is a subject which admits of no trifling. If it is of importance in every branch of mental improvement, that we should be active, willing, earnest, and faith- ful, it is still more important here. When we do not persevere in learning, it does not follow of necessity that we grow more igno- rant ; because we may remain where we are, while the rest of the world goes on. But in religion, there is no standing still ; because opportunities neglected, and convictions re- sisted, are involved in the great question of responsibility so that no one can open their Bible, or attend the means of religious in- struction, or spend a Sabbath, or even enter into solemn communion with their own heart, as in the sight of God, but they must be so much the worse for such opportunities of improvement, if neglected or despised. I have dwelt much in this volume upon the law of perfect love, as well as upon the sin- cerity and the faithfulness with which that law should be carried out ; and never is this more important, or more essential, than in our religious profession. The very groundwork of the Christian faith is love ; and love can accomplish more in the way of conformity in life and practice, than could ever be effected by the most rigid adherence to what is be- lieved to be right, without assistance from the life-giving principle of love. Still the state of the Christian in this world is always described as one of warfare, and not of repose ; and how, without earnestness, are temptations to be resisted, convictions acted upon, or good intentions carried out 1 As time passes on, too, faithfulness is tried. What has been adopted, or embraced, must be adhered to. And in this, with many young persons, consists the greatest of their trials ; for there is often a reaction on first learning to understand something of the re- alities of life, which throws them back from the high state of expectation and excitement, under which they first embraced religious truth. But let us return to the objections which most frequently operate to prevent the young surrendering themselves to their convictions of the importance and necessity of personal religion. " If I begin, I must go on." Your mind is not then made up. You have not counted the cost of coming out from the world, nor honestly weighed the advantages of securing the guidance, support, and pro- tection of personal religion, against every other pursuit, object, or idol of your lives. Perhaps it is society, amusement, or fashion, which stands in your way. Be assured there is society of the highest order, where religion is supreme ; and if not exactly what is popu- larly called amusement, there is a heartfelt interest in all which relates, however remote- ly, to the extension of the kingdom of Christ an interest unknown to those who have no bond of union, founded upon the basis of Christian love. Is it possible, then, that fashion can deter you fashion, a tyrant at once both frivolous and cruel fashion, who never yet was rich enough to repay one of her followers, for the 120 THE DAUGHTERS OF EX'JLAXI). sacrifice of a single happy hour fashion, whose realm is folly, and who is perpetually giving place to sickness, sorrow, and the grave 1 Compare for one instant her empire with that of religion. I admit that her pow- er is extensive, almost all-pervading; but what has her sovereign sway effected upon the destinies of man t She has adjusted or- naments, and selected colors ; she has cloth- ed and unclothed thousand?, and arrayed multitudes in her own livery but never has fashion bestowed dignity or peace of mind upon one single individual of the whole fam- ily of man. It would be an insult to the nature and the power of religion to proceed further with the comparison. Can that which relates merely to the body, which is fleeting as a breath, and unstable as the shadow of a cloud, deter from what is pure, immortal, and divine 1 Still I am aware it is easy, in the solitude of the chamber, or in the privacy of domestic life, to think and speak in this exalted strain, and yet to go into the society of the fashion- able, the correct, and the worldly-minded, who have never felt the necessity of being religious, and to be suddenly brought, by the chilling influence of their reasoning or their satire, to conclude that the convenient season for you to admit the claims of religion upon your heart and life, has not yet arrived. I believe the most dangerous influence, which society exercises upon young women, is derived from worldly-minded persons, of strong common sense, who are fashionable in their appearance, generally correct in then- conduct, and amiable and attractive in their manners and conversation. Young women guardedly and respectably brought up see little of vice, and know little of "The thousand paths which slope the way to sin." They .are consequently comparatively un- acquainted with the beginnings of evil, and still less so with those dark passages of life, to which such beginnings are calculated to lead. It follows, therefore, that, except when under the influence of strong convictions, they may be said to be ignorant of the real necessity of religion. It is but natural then, that those correct and well-bred persons, to whom allusion has been made, who pass on from the cradle to the brink of the grave, treating religion with respect, as a good thing for the poor and the disconsolate, but al- together unnecessary for them, should appear, on a slight examination of the subject, to be living in a much more enviable state, than those who believe themselves called upon to renounce the world and its vanities, and de- vote their time and their talent?, their en- ergies and their affections, to a cause which the worldly-minded regard, at best, as vision- ary and wild. I have spoken of such persons passing on to the brink of the grave, and I have used this expression, because, I believe the grave has terrors, even to them ; that when one earthly hold after another gives way, and health declines, and fashionable friends fall off, and death sits beckoning on the tomb- stones of their newly-buried associates and relatives ; I believe there is often a fearful questioning, about the realities of eternal thing?, and chiefly about the religion, which in idea they had set apart for the poor, the aged, and the disconsolate, but would none of it themselves. Yes, I believe, if the young could witness the solitude of such persons, could visit their chambers of sickness, and gain admittance to the secret counsels of their souls, they would find there an aching void, a want, a destitu- tion, which the wealth and the fashion, the pomp and the glory of the whole habitable world would be insufficient to supply. It is often secretly objected by young peo- ple, that, by making a profession of religion they should be brought into fellowship and association with vulgar persons : in answer to which argument, it would be easy to show that nothing can be more vulgar than vice, to say nothing of worldly-mindedness. It is, however, more to the purpose to endeavor to convince them, that true religion is so purifying to its own nature, as to be capable of elevating and refining minds which have DEDICATION OF YOUTH. 121 never been either softened or enlightened by any other influence. All who have been extensively engaged in the practical exercise of Christian- benevo- lence ; and who, in promoting the good of their fellow-creatures, have been admitted to scenes of domestic privacy among the illiterate and the poor, will bear their testimony to the fact, that religion is capable of rendering the society of some of the humblest and simplest of human beings, as truly refined, and far more affecting in its pathos and interest, than that of the most intelligent circles in the high- er walks of life. I do not, of course, pretend to call it as refined in manners, and phrase- ology : but in the ideas and the feelings which its conversation is intended to convey. That is not refined society where polished language is used as the medium for low ideas ; but that in which the ideas are raised above vulgar and worldly things and assimilated with thoughts and themes on which the holy and the wise, the saint and the philosopher, alike delight to dwell. It is no exaggeration then to say, that the conversation of the humble Christian on her death-bed her lowly bed of suffering, sur- rounded by poverty and destitution is some- times so fraught with the intelligence of that celestial world on which her hopes are fixed, that to have spent an hour in her presence, is like having had the glories of heaven, and the wonders of immortality, revealed. And is this a vulgar or degrading employment for a refined and intellectual being 1 to dwell upon the noblest theme which human intel- lect has ever grasped, to look onward from the perishable things of time to the full devel- opment of the eternal principles of truth and love ? to forget the sufferings of frail humani- ty, and to live by faith among the ransomed spirits of the blest, in the presence of angels, and before the Saviour, ascribing honor and glory, dominion and power, to Him that sitteth on the throne and to the Lamb forever and ever J In turning back to the world, from the contemplation of such a state of mind, we I feel that vulgarity consists neither in religion itself, nor in its requirements, but in attaching undue importance to the things of time, and m making them our chief, or only good. If young people are often deterred from becoming religious by seeing a great number of genteel, correct, and agreeable persons, who, for any thing they can discover to the contrary, are doing very well without it, they are still more forcibly deterred by feeling no want of it within themselves. Perhaps you are so protected by parents, and so hemmed in by domestic regulations, that you feel it more difficult to do what is positively wrong, than what is generally ap- proved as right But do not be so blind and presumptuous as to mistake this apparently inoffensive state, for being religious ; and re- membei, if it is difficult to do wrong now, it is the last stage of your experience in which you will find it so. Obliged to quit the pa- rental roof, deprived by death of your nat- ural protectors, required as years advance to take a more active part in the duties of life, or to incur a greater share of culpability by their neglect ; thrown among strangers, or friends who are no longer watchful or soli- citous for your temporal and spiritual good ; involved in new connections, and exposed to temptations both from within and from with- out, how will your mind, lately so careless and secure, awake to a conscious feeling of your own weakness, and a secret terror of impending harm ! For woman from her very feebleness is fearful; while from her sensi- tiveness she is peculiarly exposed to pain. Without religion, then, she is the most pitia- ble, the most abject, the most utterly destitute of all created beings. The^world society nay, even domestic life, has nothing to offer on which her heart in its unregenerate state can rest in safety. Each day is a period of peri!, if not of absolute agony ; for all she has to give her affections, which constitute her wealth are involved in speculations, which can yield back into her bosom nothing but ashes and mourning. It i? not so with the woman who has made religion her stronghold her defence her stay. Unchecked in the happiest and most congenial impulse of her nature, can she still j 122 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. love, because the Lord her God has com- manded that she should love him with all her heart, and with all her strength, and that she should love her neighbor as herself. Thus, though disappointment or death may blight her earthly hopes ; or though a cloud may rest upon the bestowment of her affections in this vale of tears, the principle of love which fills her soul remains the same, and she is most happy when its sphere of exercise is unbounded and eternal And is it possible that any of the rational beings whom I am addressing would dare to rush upon the dangers and temptations of this uncertain and precarious life, without the protection and support of religion 1 Oh ! no, they tell me they are all believers in re- ligion all professors of the Christian faith. But are you all religious I Deceive not your- selves. There is no other way of being Christians, except by being personally re- ligious. If not personally religious now, are you then ready to begin to be so ? Delay not ; you have arrived at years of discretion, and are capable of judging on many important points. You profess to believe in a religion which expressly teaches you that it is itself the one thing needful What then stands in the way? If, after mature and candid deliberation, you decidedly prefer the world, injure not the cause of Christ by an empty profession, nor act the cowardly part of wearing the outward badge of a faith which holds not possession of your heart and affections. It is neither honorable nor just to allow any one to doubt on whose side you are. If, therefore, your decision be in favor of religion, it is still more important that you should not blush to own a Saviour, who left the glory of the heavenly kingdom, inhabited a mortal and suffering frame, and finally died an ignominious death, for you. Nor let the plea of youth retard the offer- ing of your heart to Him who gave you all its capacity for exquisite and intense enjoyment If you are young, you are happy in having more to offer. Though it constitutes the greatest privilege of the Christian dispensa- tion, that we are not required to bring any thing by which to purchase the blessings of pardon and salvation ; it surely must atTord some additional satisfaction to a generous mind, to feel that because but a short peiiod of life has passed away, there is more of health and strength, of elasticity and vigor, to bring into the field of action, than if the de- cision upon whose side to engage, had been deferred until a later period. What, for instance, should we think of the subjects of a gracious and beneficent sover- eign, who maintained a small territory in the midst of belligerent foes, if none of these sub- jects would consent to serve in his army for the defence of his kingdom, until they had wasted their strength and their vigor in the enemy's ranks, in fighting deliberately and decidedly against the master, whom yet they. professed to consider as their rightful lord ; and then, when all was lost, and they were poor, de- crepit, destitute, and almost useless, returned to him, for no other reason, but because he was a better paymaster than the enemy, un- der whose colors they had fought for the whole of their previous lives ? What should we say, if we beheld this gracious master willing to receive them on such terms, and not only to receive, but to honor and reward them with the choicest treasures of his king- dom ! We should say, that one of the most agonizing thoughts which could haunt the bosom of each of those faithless servants, would be regret and self-reproach, that he had not earlier entered upon the service of his rightful lord. There is besides, this fearful consideration connected with the indecision of youth, that in religious experience none can remain sta- tionary. Where there is no progress, there must be a falling back. He who is not icilh me, is against me, was the appalling language of our Saviour when on earth ; by which those who are halting between two opinions, and those who are imagining themselves safe on neutral ground, are alike condemned, as being opposed to the Redeemer's kingdom. It is but reasonable, however, that the young should understand the principles, and reflect maturely upon the claims of religion, before DEDICATION OF. YOUTH. 123 their decision is openly declared. Much in- jury has been done to individuals, as well as to society at large, by a precipitate and uncal- culating readiness to enlist under the banners of the Cross, before the duties of a faithful soldier of Christ have been duly considered. It is the tendency of ardent youth, to invest what- ever it delights in for the moment, with ideal qualities adapted to its taste and fancy. Thus has religion often too often been decked in charms more appropriate to the divinities of Greece and Rome, than to the worship of a self-denying and persecuted people, whose lot on earth, they have been fully warned, is not to be one of luxury or repose. The first and severest disappointment to which the young enthusiast in religion is sub- ject, is generally that of finding, on a nearer acquaintance with the devout men and hon- orable women who compose the religious societies into which they are admitted, that they have faults and failings like the rest of mankind, and even inconsistencies in their spiritual walk, which are still more unexpect- ed, and more difficult to reconcile. The first impulse of the young, on making this dis- covery, is often to give up the cause alto- gether ; " for if such," say they, " be the defects of the Christian character, after such a season of experience, and while occupying so exalted a position, it can be of little use to us to perse- vere in the same course." They forget, or perhaps they never have considered, that the highest attainment of the Christian in this world, is often that of alternate error and re- pentance ; and that it is the state of the heart before pod, of which he alone is the judge, which constitutes the difference between a penitent, and an impenitent sinner. Besides which, they know not all The secret strug- i gles of the heart, the temptations overcome, the tears of repentance, which no human eye beholds, must alike be hid from them, as well as the fearful effects upon the peace of mind which these inconsistencies so seriously dis- turb, or destroy. A wiser appb'cation of this humbling lesson, would be, for youth to reflect, that if such be the defects in the character of more experi- enced Christians, they themselves enjoy the greatest of all privileges, that of profiting by the example of others, so as to avoid stumbling where they have fallen ; and instead of petu- lently turning back from a path which will still remain to be right, though thousands up- on thousands should wander from it, they will thus be enabled to steer a steadier course, and to finish it with greater joy. Another great discouragement to the young, consists in finding their efforts to do good so feeble and unavailing nay, sometimes al- most productive of evil, rather than of good. In their charities, especially, they find their confidence abused, and their intentions mis- understood. On every hand, the coldness of the rich, and the ingratitude of the poor, alike repel their ardor. If they engage in schools, no one appears the better for their instruction ; if they connect themselves with bene vol ent so- cieties, they find their individual efforts so trifling, in comparison with the guilt and the misery which prevail, as scarcely to appear deserving of repetition ; while, in the distribu- tion of religious books, and the general atten- tion they give to the spiritual concerns of the ignorant and the destitute, they perceive no fruit of all their zeal, and all their labor. I freely grant, that these are very natural and reasonable causes of depression, and such as few can altogether withstand ; but there is one important secret which would operate as a remedy for such depression, if we could ful- ly realize its supporting and consoling power. The secret is, are we doing all this unto God, or unto man ? If unto man, and in our own strength, and solely for the sake of going about doing good ; but especially if we have done it for the sake of having been seen and known to have done it ; even if we have done it for the sake of the reward which we be- lieve to follow the performance of every laud- able act ; or with a secret hope of thereby purchasing the favor of God ; we have no need to be surprised, or to murmur at such unsatisfactory results, which may possibly have been designed as our wholesome chas- tisement, or as the means of checking our fur- ther progress in folly and presumption. 124 THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND. But, if in every act of duty or kindness we engage in, we are actuated simply by a love to God, and a sense of the vast debt of grati- tude we owe for all the unmerited mercies we enjoy, accompanied with a conviction, that whatever the apparent results may be, our debt and our duty are still the same ; that whatever the apparent results may be, our heavenly Father has the overruling of them, and is able to make every thing contribute to the promotion of his glory and the extension of the Redeemer's kingdom, though in ways which we may neither be able to perceive nor understand ; then, indeed, with this view of the subject, we are enabled to persevere through every discouragement, rejoicing only in the ability to labor, and leaving the fruit of our labor with him who has appointed both, I must yet allude to another cause of dis- couragement with which the young have to contend, and that is, their own spiritual de- clension, after the ardor of their early zeal has abated. Perhaps I ought rather to say, their imagined declension, because I believe they are often nearer heaven in this humbled, and apparently degraded state, than when exulting in the confidence of untried patience, fortitude, and love. The prevalent idea un- der this state of mind is, that of their own cul- pability, in having made a profession of reli- gion in a state of unfitness, or on improper or insufficient grounds, accompanied with an im- pression that they are undergoing a just pun- ishment for such an act of presumption, and that the only duty which remains for them to do, is to give up the profession of religion al- together. Perhaps no delusion is greater, or more uni- versal, than to believe, that because we have been wrong in assuming a position, we must, necessarily, throw ourselves out of it in order to be right This principle would, unques- tionably, be just in all situations where any- particular qualification was needed, which could not immediately be acquired ; but, if the regret be so great on discovering that you are deficient in the evidences of personal re- ligion, surely you can have no hesitation in choosing to lay hold of the means which are always available for obtaining that divine as- sistance, which shall render your profession sincere, rather than to give up the duties, the hopes, and the privileges of religion alto- gether. It becomes a serious inquiry on these oc- casions, whether the inclination is not wrong, and whether a plea is not even wished for, as an excuse for turning back, after having laid the hand on the plough. If not, the alternative is a safe, and easy one. Begin afresh. Make a fresh dedication of the heart to God. Com- mence the work as if it had never been un- dertaken before, and all may yet.be well per- haps better than if you had never doubted whether you stood upon the right founda- tion. It should always be remembered, for the con- solation and encouragement of youth, that in making the decision in favor of religion in early life, there is comparatively little to undo; while if this most important duty is left until a later period, there will be the force of long establish- ed habit to contend with on the side of wrong, ^meshes of evil to unravel, dark paths to travel back, and all that mingled texture of light and darkness, which originates in a polluted heart, and a partially enlightened understand- ing to separate thread from thread. And, oh ! what associations, what memories are there ! what gleaming forth again of the false fire, even after the true has been kindled ! what yawning of the wide sepulchre in which the past is buried, though it cannot rest ! what struggling with the demons of imagination, be- fore they are cast out forever ! what bleeding of the heart, which, like a chastened child, would kiss the rod, yet dare not think how ma- ny stripes would be commensurate with its de- linquency ! Oh ! happy youth ! it is thy privilege, that this can never be thy por- tion ! Yes, happy youth ! for thou art ever hap- py in the contemplation of age ; and yet thou hast thy tears. Thou hast thy trials too ; and perhaps their acuteness renders them less bearable than the dull burden of accumula- ted sorrow, which hangs upon maturer years. DEDICATION OF YOUTH. 125 Thou hast thy sorrows : and when the moth- er's eye is closed, that used to watch thy in- fant steps so fondly ; and the father's hand i* cold, that used to rest upon thy head with gentle and impressive admonition ; whom hast thou, whom wilt thou ever have, to sup- ply thy parents' place on earth * Whom hast thou ! The world is poor to thee ; for none will ever love thee with a love like theirs. Thou hast thy golden and exuberant youth, thy joyous step, thy rosy smile, and we call thee happy. But thou hast also thy hours of loneliness, thy disappointments, thy chills, thy blights ; when the hopes on which thy young spirit has soared begin for the first time to droop ; when the love in which thou hast so fondly trusted begins to cool ; when the flow- ers thou hast cherished begin to fade ; when the bird thou hast fed through the winter, in the summer flies away ; when the lamb thou hast nursed in thy bosom, prefers the stran- ger to thee. Thou hast thy tears ; but the bitterest of thy sorrows, how soon are they as- suaged ! It is this then which constitutes thy happiness, for we all have griefs ; but long before old age, they have worn themselves channels which cannot be effaced. It is there- fore that we look back to youth with envy ; because the tablet of the heart is then fresh, and unimpressed, and we long to begin again with that fair surface, and to write upon it no characters but those of truth. And will not youth accept the invitation of experience, and come before it is too late 1 and come with all its health, and its bloom, and its first-fruits untainted, and lay them upon the altar ; an offering which age can- not make 1 Let us count the different items in the riches which belong to youth, and ask if it is not a holy and a glorious privilege to dedicate them to the service of the Most High? First, then, there is the freshness of un- wearied nature, for which so many millions pine in vain ; the glow of health, that life- spring of all the energies of thought and ac- tion ; the confidence of unbroken trust the power to believe, as well as hope a power which the might of human intellect could never yet restore ; the purity of undivided affection ; the earnestness of zeal unchilled by disappointment ; the first awakening of joy, that has never been depressed ; high aspirations that have never stooped to earth ; the clear perception of a mind unbiassed in its search of truth ; with the fervor of an un- troubled soul. All these, and more than pen could write or tongue could utter, has youth the pow- er to dedicate to the noblest cause which ever yet engaged the attention of an intel- lectual and immortal being. What, then, I would ask again, is that which hinders the surrender of your heart to God, your con- duct to the requirements of the religion of Christ 7 With this solemn inquiry, I would leave the young reader to pursue the train of her own reflections. All that I have proposed to her consideration as desirable in character and habit in heart and conduct will be without consistency, and without foundation, unless based upon Christian principle, and supported by Christian faith. All that I have proposed to her as most lovely, and most ad- mirable, may be rendered more, infinitely more so, by the refinement of feeling, the elevation of sentiment, and the purity of purpose, which those principles and that faith are calculated to impart DEDICATED BY ESPECIAL PERMISSION TO THE WIVES OF ENGLAND THEIR RELATIVE DUTIES, DOMESTIC INFLUENCE, AND SOCIAL OBLIGATIONS, BY MRS. ELLIS, AUTHOR OF "THE WOMEN OF ENGLAND," "THE DAUGHTERS OF ENGLAND," "THE POETRY OF LIFE," ETC. " The greatest difficulty of my task has been the laying bare, as it were, before the public eye. the privacy of married life of that life whose sorrows the heart alone can know, and with whose joys it is the universal privilege of all who share them, that no stranger shall intermeddle. " But if the principles it has been my simple aim to advocate, should meet the approbation of my countrywomen, I would fondly hope to be associated with their fireside enjoyments, as one whose highest ambition would have been to render their pleasures more enduring, their hopes more elevated, and their happiness more secure." From the Author's Preface. AUTHOR'S EDITION, COMPLETE IN ONE VOLUME, NEW YORK: HENRY G. LANGLEY, 8 ASTOR-HOUSE, BROADWAY. 1844. TO HER MAJESTY THE QUEEN, IN WHOSE EXALTED STATION THE SOCIAL VIRTUES OF DOMESTIC LIFE PRESENT THE BRIGHTEST EXAMPLE TO HER COUNTRYWOMEN, AND THE SUREST PRESAGE OF HER EMPIRE'S GLORT J 2TJ)fs Volume Is jjratefullg Knscrfbrt, BT HER MAJESTY'S MOST OBEDIENT AND MOST DEVOTED SERVANT, THE AUTHOR. PREFACE. IN writing on any subject, and particu- larly for the purpose of doing good, there are always two extremes to be avoided that of being too general, and that of be- ing too minute. By generalizing too much, the writer incurs the risk of being considered by the reader as having little actual knowledge of the state of human affairs, and conse- quently little sympathy either with those who enjoy, or with those who suffer. Without saying any thing to disparage in other respects the value of those excellent books on female duty, in many of which are included the duties of married women, I confess they have all appeared to me too general too much as if the writer had not been personally identified with the subject, had never entered into the minutiae of private and domestic life, or did not feel, what the heart of woman must feel, under its peculiar trials. But, while endeavoring to avoid this extreme, I am quite alive to the suspicion that I may have fallen into the other ; and if the mere ambition of writing a book had been my object, I should have felt painfully that those who read only for amusement might lay aside the volume altogether, as trifling, common-place, and tame. Yet such is my confidence in the power of human sympathy, that I fear- lessly trust the practical hints which occupy these pages to the kindness of my countrywomen, assuring them that I ask for no higher reward, than, that while some of them are reading my homely details of familiar things, they should feel that in the writer they have found a sister and a friend, one who is bound to the same heritage with themselves, sharing the same lot, and while struggling under much weakness of resolution, and many disadvantages of heart and character, is subject to the same hopes, and the same fears, both as regards this life and the next. yThe greatest difficulty of my task, how- ever, has been to me the laying bare, as it were, before the public eye, the privacy of married life of that life whose sorrows the heart alone can know, and with whose joys it is the universal privilege of all who share them, that no stranger shall intermeddle. This difficulty, of the extent .of which I was not fully aware before commencing the work, has sometimes thrown a hesitancy I had almost said a delicacy in the way of writing with the strength which the occasion demanded ; and I could not but feel that the subject itself was one better calculated for confidential fireside intercourse, than for a printed volume. But if then the principles it has been my simple aim to advocate, should meet the approbation of my countrywomen, I would fondly hope to be associated with their fireside enjoyments as one whose highjsjj3aj[thly_juTibition would have been to render their pleasures more enduring, thoir hopes more elc-vatrd. and their liap- pinegsjmore secure^ Rosr HILL, February 16th, 1&13. THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. CHAPTER I. THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. Is commencing a work addressed particu- larly to married women, it might appear a little out of place to devote a whole chapter to the subject of " thoughts before marriage," did not the writer suppose it probable, that if married women should deem the following pages worthy of their notice, those who are about to assume the responsibility of wives, might feel equally curious to ascertain the nature of their contents. In this chapter, then, I would venture to recommend a few inquiries to those who have not yet passed the Rubicon, and with whom, therefore, it may not be too late to retract, if they should find they have not correctly calculated the consequences of the step they are about to take ; or, what is still more probable, if they have not coolly and impartially estimated their own capability for rendering it one of prudence and safety both to themselves and others. On the other hand, the inquiries I would propose, are such as, where the mind [ and character are fitly prepared for this im- portant change, will tend to confirm the best resolutions ; while they will assist in detect- ing every latent evil which might otherwise lie in wait, to rise up after the season of de- liberation is past, like clouds in the horizon, which gradually spread their gloom across the sky, and finally obscure the sunshine of every future day. The great object to be aimed at by all wo- men about to enter upon the married state, is to examine calmly and dispassionately the requirements of this state ; to put away all personal feeling ; and to be not only willing, but determined, to look the subject fairly in the face, and to see its practical bearing upon the interest and the happiness of those with whom they may be associated. Perhaps there never yet was a woman of warm feelings, or man either, who had not, in early life, some vision of conjugal felicity, which after experience and knowledge of the world have failed to stamp with the impress of reality. Some, believing themselves capa- ble of contributing their share" to this measure of earthly happiness, and disappointed in not finding an equal companion, hav& wisely declined entering upon the married state altogether; while others, more confident of success, have made the experiment for them- selves, believing, that though all the world may have failed in realizing their dreams of bliss, they and theirs will be fortunate enough to exhibit to the wonder of mankind, an in- stance of perfect connubial happiness. It is needless to decide which of these two parties deserve the highest meed of commen- dation for their prudence and common s^nse. But it is equally needless to belong to either class of individuals. " What !" exclaims the young enthusiast, "shall we not even hope to be happy 7" Yes. Let us hope as long as we can ; but- let it be in subservience to rea- son and to truth. Let us hope only to be happy ourselves, so long as we make others happy too ; and let us expect no measure of felicity beyond what this world has afforded to those who were wiser and better than we are. " But why then," exclaims the same en- thusiast, "all the fine talk we hear about THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. marriage 7 and why, in all the stories we read, is marriage made the end of woman's existence?" Ah! there lies the evil. Mar- riage, like death, is too often looked upon as the end; whereas both are but the beginning of states of existence infinitely more import- ant than that by which they were preceded ; yet each taking from that their tone and character, and each proportioned in their en- joyment to the previous preparation which has been made for their happiness or misery. The education of young ladies is too fre- quently such as to lead them naturally to suppose, that all the training, and all the dis- cipline they undergo, has reference only to this end. The first evidence that marriage is thus regarded by many young women, is seen in a petulant rebellion against the re- straints of home, and the requirements of parental authority, accompanied by a threat, not always distinctly uttered, that the first opportunity of escaping from domestic thral- dom shall not be neglected. This species of rebellion against rightful authority, is much cherished by school-companions and sisters ; while the gossip of servants, to whom the indignant sufferers sometimes appeal, and the general tenor of what is called light read- ing, tend to keep up the same kind of spir- ited determination to rush upon the uncer- tainties of marriage, in the hope of escaping from the certainties of home. A polite and flattering lover next presents himself. The persecuted or neglected damsel finds at last that her merits are appreciated, and while the gates of an imaginary Eden are still open, she enters eagerly among its fruits and flowers, never stopping to inquire if " The trail of the serpent is over them still." Such is the natural history of one half at least of those early marriages, which fix the doom of women forhhis world, and some- times for the next What wonder, then, that a sincere and earliest friend, and an af- fectionate well-wisher of her sex, should deem it necessary, even on the near approach of that day which is generally spoken of as making two human beings happy, to request the weaker, and consequently the more easily deluded party, to pause and think again. Although I am one of the last persons who could wish to introduce in any plausible form, to an upright and honorable mind, the bare idea of the possibility of breaking an engage- ment ; yet as there are cases in which an en- gagement of marriage, if literally kept, must necessarily be violated in spirit, I cannot help thinking, that of two evils, it is, in this case, especially desirable to choose the least ; and to prefer inflicting a temporary pain, and en- during an inevitable disgrace, to being the means of destroying the happiness of a life- time, with the self-imposed accompaniment of endless remorse. In the first place, then, I would ask, are you about to bring to the altar, and to offer, in thu sight of God, a faithful and devoted heart 1 To answer with a mere expression of belief,- is not sufficient here. There must be certainty on this point, if not on any other. There are many tests by which this important fact may be ascertained, and of these I shall particularize a few. The first is, whom are you loving ? the man who stands before you with all his " imperfections on his head" his faults of temper, follies, in- consistencies, and past misdeeds? Is this the man you love ? or is it some ideal and perfect being whom you will fail to recognise in the husband of your after life ? If the lat- ter case be yours, go back, and wait, for your acquaintance has yet to be formed on the only sure basis that of honesty and truth ; and you might as safely unite yourself with a being you had never seen before, as with one whom you had seen without having known or understood.^ $-e as calamitous as if you had designedly practised upon the partial credulity of your over. It is of the utmost importance, then, that you inquire into the nature of your own conduct, not only towards him, but towards others in his presence. Have you, during he season of courtship, been acting a part wjiich you never before sustained, or which you do not intend to sustain as a wife? Haye_you been more amiable to ym r tn ymir hus- band_t If you have, there are two ways of remedying this evil, for an evil it certainly is ; and one of these you are bound in common honesty to adopt: you must either defer your marriage until your real character has been brought to light, and clearly understood ; or, you must determine, from this time for- ward, by the Divine blessing on your endeav- ors, that you will be in reality the amiable being you have appeared. And now, having learned to see your lover as he is, I would ask again, whether you are quite sure that your affections are entirely and irrevocably his. Jf on this point there is doubt, there must be danger ; but still there are tests to be applied, which may in some measure reduce those doubts to certainty The most important question, in a case of doubt, is, whether your heart lingers after any other object ; and this may be best as- certained by asking yourself still further whether there is any other man in the world of whom it would giv r e you pain to hear that he was likely to be married. If there is not you are in all probability safe in this respect, and yet you may not love the man you are about to marry, as he hopes, deserves, and believes himself to be loved. I would ask then, are you weary of his presence, and re lieved when he goes away 1 or are you dis posed to exercise less charity and forbear ance towards his faults, than towards tto faults of others 1 for if his failings annoy and irritate you more than those of men in gen eral, depend upon it, you do not love him as you ought If, too, you feel ashamed of him efore marriage, there is little probability that ou will afterwards evince towards him that respect and reverence which is right and seemly in a wife. In order to ascertain these points clearly, it s good for every woman before she marries, o see the man of her choice in the company of her friends, and especially to see him as- sociated and compared with those whose opinion she esteems most highly. We are all more or less influenced by the secret sym- pathies of our common nature. In nothing can we think or feel alone ; and few cases show more plainly the weakness and liability to delusion under which we labor, than the strong confidence we sometimes entertain in the correctness of our own judgment, until some new trial is made ; and then immedi- ately, as if by a kind of instinct, placing our- selves in the situation of others, we see as it were with their eyes, think with their thoughts, and arrive at their conclusions. This tendency of our nature is often discover- ed in the reading of books, which we have both enjoyed and admired alone ; but no sooner do we read them in company with a critica friend, than we see at once their defects, and can even use against them the same powers of criticism ourselves. Happy is it for those whose judgment, thus influenced, is confined in its exercise to books ! happy for them if they never know what it is to find the talents and the recommendations of a lover disap- pear in a moment, on the approach of an in- teresting and influential friend, and disappear in such a way as never to be recalled again ! Yet, having stood this test, it is still possi- ble to doubt, and, without sufficient love your engagement may still be only iust drag- ged on, because you have no sufficient plea for breaking it off. You may perhaps esteem your lover highly ; you may feel grateful for his kindness, and flattered by his admiration you may also feel a strong desire to make him the happy man he believes he can be with you, and you alone you may feel all this, and yet, I repeat, you may not love him 3 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. as a woman ought to love her husband. This will be more clearly proved by an in- crease of sadness on your part, as the time of your marriage draws near, an indefinite apprehension that with you the pleasures of life are at an end, and a determination, re- quiring often to be renewed, that at least you will do your duty to one who deserves every thing from you. f Let me, however, ask what this duty is ! It is not merely to serve him ; a hired menial could do that The duty of a wife is what no woman ever yet was able to render with- out affection ; and it is therefore the height of presumption to think that you can coldly fulfil a duty, the very spirit of which is that of love itself. It is possible, however, that you may still be mistaken. It is possible that the gradual opening of your eyes from the visions of girl- ish romance, which are apt to flit before the imaginative and inexperienced, may have given you a distaste both for your compan- ion, and your future lot If this be the case, the difficulty will be easily overcome by the exercise of a little good feeling and common sense. But in order to prove that this is real- ly all, put this question to yourself if you were quite sure there was some other woman as amiable, or more so, than you, with whom your friend could be equally happy, would you feel pleasure in his cultivating her ac- quaintance instead of yours? If you can answer this question in the negative, you may yet be safe ; if not, the case is too decided to admit of a moment's hesitation. Your own integrity, and a sense of justice towards your friend, equally dictate the propriety of making him acquainted with the painful, the humiliating fact, that you do not love him ; and no man, after being con- vinced of this, could desire the fulfilment of a mere nominal engagement I am aware that the opinion of the world and the general voice of society are against such conduct, even where love is wanting ; and I am equally aware, that no woman ought to venture upon breaking an engage- raent on such grounds, without feeling her- self humbled to the very dust ; but I am not the less convinced, that it is the only safe, the only just line of conduct which remains to her who finds herself thus circumstanced, and that it is in reality more generous to her lover, than if she kept u the word of promise to his ear, and broke it to his lope." But there may be other causes besides this, why an engagement should not be fulfilled. There may be a want of love on the part of your friend, or there may be instances of unfaithfulness too glaring to be overlooked ; and here let it be observed, that woman's lovejnay grow after marriage man's, never. If|therefore, he is indifferent or unfaithful as a lover, what must be expected of him as a husbandj_ It is one of the greatest misfortunes to which women are liable, that they cannot, consistently with female delicacy, cultivate, before an engagement is made, an acquaint- ance sufficiently intimate to lead to the dis- covery of certain facts which would at once decide the point, whether it was prudent to proceed further towards taking that step, which is universally acknowledged to be the most important in a woman's life. One of these facts, which can only be as- certained on a close acquaintance, is the tendency there is in some individuals to overawe, and keep others at a distance. Now, if on the near approach of marriage, a woman finds this tendency in the compan- ion she has chosen, if she cannot open to him her whole heart, or if he does not open his heart tojierjimt maintains a distant kind of authoritative manner, which shuts her out from sympathy and equality with himself t it is time for herjp pfl'np, and think seriously before she binds herself for life to that worst f_a husband. I have no sc r uple musing this expression, because where the connection is so intimate, and the sphere of action necessarily so confined, if fear usurps the place of confidence and love, it must naturally engender a servile disposi- tion to deceive, either by falsehood or eva- sion, wherever blame would attach to a full disclosure of the truth. THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. I have already said that it is a prudent plan for the woman who intends to marry, to try the merits of her lover, or rather her own es- timate of them, by allowing him an opportu- nity of associating with her friends. Such precautionary measures, however, are not easily carried out, except at some sacrifice of delicate and generous feeling ; and, generally speaking, the less a woman allows her name to be associated with that of her husband be- fore marriage, the better. It is sometimes argued that an engagement entered into with right feelings, is of so binding and sacred a nature, that persons thus related to each other, may be seen together, both in public and private, almost as if they were really married ; and to such it may appear a cold kind of caution still to say "beware!" Yet such is the uncertain nature of all human af- fairs, that we need not look far for instances of the most improbable changes taking place, after all possibility of change had been ban- ished from our thoughts. Within a month, a week, nay, even a day, of marriage, there have been discoveries made which have ful- ly justified an entire disunion of the parties thus associated ; and then how much better has it been, where their names had not been previously united, and where their appearance together had not impressed the idea of indis- soluble connection upon the minds of others ! One of the most justifiable, and at the same time one of the most melancholy causes for such disunion, is the discovery of symptoms of insanity. Even a highly excited and dis- ordered state of the nervous system, will operate with a prudent woman against an alliance of this nature. Yet here again, it is particularly unfortunate, that in cases of ner- vous derangement, the discovery is seldom fully made except in the progress of that close intimacy which immediately precedes marriage, and which consequently assumes the character of an indissoluble engagement. Symptoms of this nature, however, when ex- hibited in the conduct of a man, are of the most serious and alarming character. A wo- man laboring under such maladies, in their milder form, may be so influenced by authori- ty as to be kept from doing any very exten- sive harm ; but when a man, with the reins of government in his hand, loses the power to guide them, when his mind becomes the victim of morbid feeling, and his energies sink under imaginary burdens, there is no calculating the extent of calamity which may result to the woman who would be rash enough to link her destiny with his. Another justifiable reason for setting aside an engagement of marriage, or protracting the fulfilment of it, is a failure of health, es- pecially when either this, or the kind of mala- dy already noticed, induces an incapacity for business, and for the duties which generally devolve upon the master of a household. It is true, that in cases w r here the individual thus afflicted does not himself see the pro- priety of withdrawing from the engagement, the hard, and apparently selfish part a wo- man has to act on these occasions is such as, in addition to her own sufferings, will proba- bly bring upon her the blame of many who do not, and who cannot, understand the case ; and the more delicate her feelings are towards the friend she is thus compelled to treat with apparent harshness, the less likely she will be to exculpate herself by an exposure to the world of his inconsistency, or his weakness. Thus, as in many of the acts of woman's life, she has to be the sufferer every way; but still that suffering is less to every one con- cerned, than if she plunged herself into all the lamentable consequences of a union with a man who wanted either the mental or the physical capacity to keep her and hers from poverty and distress. In the former case, she will have the dictates of prudence and of conscience in her favor. In both, the world will be lavish of its blame ; but in the latter only, could her portion be that of self-con- demnation, added to irremediable misery. After all these considerations have been duly weighed, and every test of truth and constancy applied to your affection for the object of your choice, there may yet remain considerations of infinite moment as they re- late to your own fitness for entering upon the married state. 10 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. In the first place, what is it you are ex- pecting? to be always flattered? Depend upon it, if your faults were never brought to light before, they will be so now. Are you expecting to be always indulged? Depend upon it, if your temper was never tried be- fore, it will be so now. Are you expecting to be always admired ? Depend upon it, if you were never humble and insignificant be- fore, you will have to be so now. Yes, you had better make up your mind at once to be uninteresting as long as you live, to all ex- cept the companion of your home ; and well will it be for you, if you can always be inter- esting to him. You, had better settle it in your calculations, that^you will have to be crossed oftener than the day ; and the part of wisdom will dictate, that if you persist in your determination to be not only be satisfied, But ,cheerful_tg_Jja.ve these things so. k One important truth sufficiently impressed upon your mind will materially assist in this desirable consummation it is the superiority of your husband, simply .as a man. It is quite possible you may have more talent, with higher attainments, and you may also have been generally more admired ; but this has nothing whatever to do with your posi- tion as a woman, which is, and must be, inferior to his as a man. For want of a satisfactory settlement of this point before marriage, how many disputes and misunder- standings have ensued, filling, as with the elements of discord and strife, that world of existence which ought to be a smiling Eden of perpetual flowers not of flowers which never fade ; but of flowers which, if they must die, neither droop nor wither from the canker in their own bosoms, or the worm which lies at their own roots. It is a favorite argument with untried youth, that all things will come right in the end, where there is a sufficiency of love ; but is it enough for the subjection of a woman's will, that she should love her husband ? Alas ! observation and experience alike con- vince us, that love has been well represented as a wayward boy ; and the alternate ex- hibitions of contradiction and fondness which are dictated by affection alone, though inter- esting enough before the nuptial knot is tied, are certainly not those features in the aspect of his domestic affairs, whose combination a prudent man would most desire. It is to sound judgment then, and right principle, that we must look, with the bless- ing of the Bestower of these good gifts, for ability to make a husband happy sound judgment to discern what is the place de- signed for him and for us, in the arrange- ments of an all- wise Providence and right principle to bring down every selfish desire, and every rebellious thought, to a due sub- serviency in the general estimate we form of individual duty. But supposing this point satisfactorily set- tled, and an earnest and prayerful determina- tion entered into to be but a secondary being in the great business of conducting the gen- eral affairs of social life, there are a few things yet to be thought of, a few duties yet to be discharged, before the final step can properly be taken. In the warmth and en- thusiasm of youthful feeling, few women look much beyond themselves in the calcu- lations they make upon their married future. To be loved, and cherished, is all they ap- pear solicitous to stipulate for, forgetting the many wants and wishes that will necessarily arise out of the connection they are about to form. It may not be out of place then to remind them, how essential it is to comfort in the married state, that there should have been beforehand a clear understanding, and a strict agreement, with regard bom to the general style of living, and the friendships and associations to be afterwards maintained. All secret wishes and intentions on these subjects, concealed by one party from the fear of their being displeasing to the other, are ominous of future disaster ; and, indeed, I would almost venture so far as to advise, that unless such preliminaries can be satis- factorily adjusted, the parties had better make up their minds to separate ; for these causes of difference will be of such frequent occurrence, as to leave little prospect of domestic peace. THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. 11 If, however, the companion of your future home should not be disposed to candor on these points, you will probably have oppor- tunities of judging for yourself; and such means of forming your conclusions ought on no account to be neglected. You will pro- bably, for instance, have opportunies of as- certaining whether he is one of those who place their chief happiness in what is called good living, or, in other words, in the pleas- ures of the table ; and if in his estimation wine forms a prominent part of these enjoy- ments, let not the fear of the world's censure operate for one moment against your sepa- rating yourself from such a man. If this should seem a harsh and hasty conclusion, remember that the evils of a gross and self- indulgent habit are such as generally increase with the advance of years, and, as the natu- ral spirits fail, and health becomes impaired, are liable to give rise to the most fatal mala- dies both of mind and body. If, then, there is danger and disgust to apprehend on the side of indulgence, it is on the other hand a hard and unthankful duty for the wife to be perpetually restraining the appetite of her husband, and preaching up the advantages of abstinence to the man she loves. Nor is it improbable, or of rare occurrence, that un- der such circumstances she should actually lose his affection, for men like not the con- stant imposition of restraint upon their wish- es; and so much happier so much more privileged is the situation of her who can safely minister to the desires of her husband, that I would recommend to every woman to choose the man who can with propriety be in- dulged, rather than him whose habits of self- gratification already require restraint. As the time of your marriage draws near, you will naturally be led with ease and pleas- ure into that kind of unlimited confidence with the companion of your future lot, which forms in reality the great charm of married life. But even here a caution is required, for though all the future, as connected with your own experience, must belong to him, all the past must belong to others. Never, therefore, make it the subject of your confi- dential intercourse to relate the history of your former love affairs, if you have had any. It is bad taste to allude to them at all, but especially so under such circumstances ; and although such details might serve to amuse for the moment, they would in all probability be remembered against you at some future time, when each day will be sufficiently darkened by its own passing clouds. With regard to all your other love affairs then, let " by-gones be by-gones." It could do no good whatever for you to remember them ; and the more you are dissociated from every other being of his own sex, the more will the mind of your husband dwell upon you with unalloyed satisfaction. On the other hand, let no ill-advised curiosity induce you to pry too narrowly into his past life as regards affairs of this nature. How- ever close your inquiries, they may still be baffled by evasion ; and if it be an important point with you, as many women profess to make it, to occupy an unsullied page in the ^ affections of your husband, it is wiser and safer to take for granted this flattering fact, than to ask whether any other name has been written on that page before. In this case, as well as your own, both honor and delicacy would suggest the propriety of draw- ing a veil over the past. It is sufficient for the happiness of married life that you share together the present and the future. With such a field for the interchange of mutual thought, there can surely be no want of interest in your conversation, for the ar- rangements to be made are so new to both, and consequently so fraught with importance, that parties thus circumstanced, are pro- verbially good company only to each other. Amongst these arrangements, if the choice of a residence be permitted you, and espe- cially if your own temper is not good, or your manners not conciliating, avoid, as far as you can do so with prudence, and without thwarting your husband's wishes, any very close contact with his nearest rclati-ves. There are not wanting numerous instances in which the greatest intimacy and most fa- 12 THE WIVES OF ENGLAND. miliar associations of this kind have been kept up with mutual benefit and satisfaction ; but generally speaking it is a risk, and you may not yourself be sufficiently amiable to bear, with a meek and quiet spirit, the general oversight, and well-meant interference, which mothers and sisters naturally expect to main- tain in the household of a son and a brother. These considerations, however, must of course give way to the wishes of the hus- band and his family, as it is of the utmost importance not to offend his relatives in the outset by any appearance of contradiction self-will ; and besides which, he and hi friends will be better judges than you can be of the general reasons for fixing your future residence. And now, as the time draws near, are you quite sure that your means are sufficient to enable you to begin the world with indepen- dence and respectability ? Perhaps you are not a judge, and if not, you have no right to think of becoming a wife ; fpr young men in general have little opportunity of making themselves acquainted with household econ- omy ; and who then is to make those innu- merable calculations upon which will depend, not only the right government of your estab- lishment, but also your peace of mind, your integrity of character, and your influence for time and for eternity 7 Oh ! what a happy day would that be for Britain, whose morning should smile upon the making of a law for allowing no woman to marry until she had become an economist, thoroughly acquainted with the necessary ex- penses of a respectable mode of living, and able to calculate the requirements of comfort, in connection with all the probable contin- gencies of actual life. If such a law should be so cruel as to suspend for a year or more every approach to the hymeneal altar, it would, at least, be equally effectual in avert- ing that bitter repentance with which so many look back to the hurried and thought- less manner in which they rushed blindfold upon an untried fate, and only opened their eyes to behold their madness and folly, when it was too late to avert the fatal consequences. As a proof how little young men in gene- ral are acquainted with these matters, I have heard many who fully calculated upon living in a genteel and comfortable style, declare that a hundred pounds was sufficient for the furnishing of a house. Thus a hundred pounds on one side, either saved, borrowed, or begged, and fifty on the other, are not un- frequently deemed an ample provision, with a salary of two hundred, to begin the world with. It is true the young man finds that salary barely sufficient for himself; but then, he hears and reads how much is saved un- der good female management, and he doubts not but his deficiencies will be more than made up by his wife.' It is true the young lady, with her ill health, and music lessons, and change of air, costs her lather at least fifty pounds per annum, but she does not see how she shall cost her husband any thing at all ! Sweet soul ! She needs so little, and really would be content with any thing in the world, so that she might but live with him. Nay, she who has never learned to wait upon herself, would almost do without a servant, so self-denying, so devoted is her love. Thus the two hopeful parties reason, and should a parent or a friend advise delay, the simple fact of their having been engaged, having expected to be married, and having made up their minds, appear to furnish suffi- cient arguments why they should proceed in their career of rashness and of folly. Parents who are kindly disposed, will hardly see their children rush upon absolute want at the commencement of their married life. The mother therefore pleads, the father cal- culates, and by deferring some of his own payments, or by borrowing from a friend, he is enabled to spare a little more than was at first promised, though only as a loan. And how is this small additional sum too frequently appropriated ? To the purchase of luxuries which the parents of the newly married pair waited ten or twenty years be- fore they thought of indulging themselves with ; and those who have tried every expe- dient, and drained every creditable source, to gratify the wishes of their imprudent chil- THOUGHTS BEFORE MARRIAGE. dren, have to contemplate the heart-sicken- j ing spectacle of beholding them begin the 1 world in a style superior to that which their own industry and exertion, persevered in through half a lifetime, has alone enabled them to attain. Now, though the delicate young lady may think she has little to do with these things, the honest-hearted Englishwoman, especially the practical Christian, will find that it be- longs peculiarly to her province to see that just and right principles are made the foun- dation of, her character as the mistress of a hoase ; and in order to carry out these prin- ciples so as to make them effectual in their operation upon her fellow-beings, and accept- able in the sight of God, she must begin in time, and while the choice remains to her, to practise self-denial, even in that act which is most intimately connected with her present and future happiness. If the attention to economy, and the right feeling with regard to integrity, which I have so earnestly recommended in the " Women," and the " Daughters of England," have been studied in early youth, she will need no cau- tion on the subject of delaying her marriage until prudence shall point out the proper time for her settlement in life. She will know a holier, deeper kind of love than that which would plunge the object of it in irremediable difficulties for her sake ; and though he may be inexperienced and imprudent, she will feel it a sacred trust, to have committed to her the care of his character and circumstances in these important and momentous concerns. Serious and right views on subjects of this nature, are so intimately connected with the reality of the Christian character, that it is difficult to imagine how a high profession of religion can exist in connection with the kind of wilful and selfish imprudence above described. One thing, however, is certain, that let a woman's religious profession be what it may, if she be rash and inconsiderate on the subject of marriage, consulting only her own gratification, and mistaking mere fondness for deep and enduring affection, she has need to go back to the school of mental discipline, in which she is yet but a novice ; and instead of taking upon herself the honor- able title of wife, to set in humility and self- abasement in the lowest seat, seeking those essential endowments of mind and