V/iil3AINfl]Wv' ^oxmmn 1.1V .yvaaiHVv> 5 ^WEUNIVER^//;;^ %JI1V3J0^ ^^iiaONVSOl^"^ -"m^ ^ '^•^mmus^ >&Aavaaii^s^ ^vlOSANCELfx^ 7130NVS01 JSANG[U'J> 1^1 -s^lLlBRARYOc, 1 ! r^ ^ § -v^iLIBRARYOc^ '].]av ^^,OF-CALiFO%, ^OFCALIFO/?^ ce I' < ojnvDJO \\EUNIVERS/^ ^lOSANGELfj^^ mmm aaAiNnauv CALIFO;?/, 't\EUNIVER5"//, :f l:^ ^lOSANCEtfXx ^o'AtivaaiidVN' ''t/Aavdaird>E^' ^JilJJNV-iU ^ ^WEUNIVER% ^OFCALIFO/?, %a3AiNa3WV^ '^ommwi'^ ^;,^l•UBRARYQ/: ^^J^t•LIBRARY6k '%ojnv3jo>' '^(!/ojnv3jo ^WEUNIVER5'/ ^^iliONVSO^ ^OFCALIFOff^ ^OFCALIFO/?^ ■\M[UNIVERS/ '^/5a3AiNn3WV^ ^^•LIBRARY^ ^TOIIVDJO AMEUNIVER5-/A ^lOS ANGELfj> ^OFCAII F0/|> n' THE 70UNG LADY'S FRIEND THE YOUNG LAD Y'S FRIEND. By MRS. JOHN FARRAR, AUTHOR OF '-'THE LIFE OF LAFAYETTE," ''THE LIFE OF HOWARD," " THE YOUTH's LETTER-WRITER," &C. BOSTON: AMERICAN STATIONERS' COMPANY. JOHN B. RUSSELL. 1838. Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1836 By the American Stationers' Company, in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. CAMBRIDGE: FOLSOM, WELLS, AND THURSTON, FBINTEES TO THE UNITERSITT. Ha ^ CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTION. Paff. The Great Mistake. — Leaving School. — Use of School Studies. — Miss Edge worth's Opinion. — False Views. — Address to Girls leaving School. — Religion the Foun- dation of Excellence. — Sins of Ignorance 1 CHAPTER II. ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. Distribution of Time. — Care of odd Minutes. — A valua- ble Rule. — Early Rising. — A Contrast. — Picture of Early Rising. — Effect of Heat and Cold on Industry. — Excessive Nicety. — Value of a Day. — Thinking and Sewing. — Energy of Purpose. — Madame Roland. — Attention. — Lord Chesterfield. . ' 12 CHAPTER m. DOMESTIC ECONOMY. Woman's peculiar Calling. — How to save Labor. — Do- mestic Affairs honorable. — Example. — French House- * VI CONTENTS. keeping. — Useless Discussion. — Housework good for the Health. — Pouring out Tea and Coffee. — Prepara- tion for Cookery. — Preparation for Dinner Company. — Expense. — Allowance. — Anecdote. — Uncertainty of Riches. — Anecdote. — Best Tilings. — General Rules. 33 CHAPTER IV. NURSING THE SICK. First Requisites in a Nurse. — Evils of Awkwardness. — Noise to be avoided. — Cleanliness and Ventilation. — Easy Positions. — Lifting a Patient. — Quiet Move- ments. — Night Watching. — Bed-Making. — Rubbing. — Bathing. — Blisters. — Leeches. — Little Comforts. — Behaviour to Physicians. — Diet. — Conclusion. ... 57 CHAPTER V. BEHAVIOUR OF THE SICK. Self-control. — Consideration of Others. — Attention. — Taking Medicine. — Resignation CHAPTER VL DRESS. Human Clothing left to Man's Reason and Ingenuity. — Extravagances of Costume. — Hoops. — Revolutions in Dress. — English and French Fashions. — Climate. — Standard of Beauty. — ElT'M-ts of Good Taste. — A curi- ous Comparison. — Re,strictiniis in Dress. — Appropriate- ness essential to Bc'iiity.-'riistc fjivorjibli' to lv-nn«nny. CONTENTS. Vll — Love of Finery. — Dress a Test of Character. — Meedle-work. — Darning- Stockings. — Care to be taken of Clothes. — Neat Habits. — Punctuality. — Conduct to Work-women. — Borrowing. — Accidental Exchanges. — Duty of Cultivated Women. — Modern Examples 92 CHAPTER VII. MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. Importance of the Subject. — Objections anticipated. — The Laws of our Being are fixed. — Extract from Dr Combe. — Advantages of the Study of PJiysioIogy. — Structure of the Skin. — Insensible Perspiration. — An- imal Heat. — Absorbents. — Sensation. — Cleanliness. — Warm and Cold Bathing. — Mutual Dependence of the Skin and the Lungs. — Circulation of the Blood. — Ex- ercise — Cold Extremities. — The Lungs. — Digestion. — Food. — Drink. — Fasting the Best Cure. — Con- stipation. — Tight Lacing. — Tight Shoes 141 CHAPTER Vni. BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS AND THEIR FRIENDS. Irreverence common. — Beauty of Reverence. — Sympa- thy with Parents. — Treatment of Elderly Friends. — Anecdote 202 CHAPTER IX. CONDUCT TO TEACHERS. How to receive a Ma>ster. — The Claijns of Female Teach- ers — llnp.rlniiitv ol" llichr?! 213 Vlll CONTENTS. CHAPTER X. THE RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. Influence of Sisters on Brothers. — Confidence won and kept. — Happy Evenings at Home. — Mutual Aid in Choosing Friends. — Fraternal Love a Safeguard. — Little Annoyances between Sisters. — Politeness in the Family Circle. — Duties of Elder Sisters to the Younger Children. — Works on Education recommended. . . 218 CHAPTER XL TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS AND WORK-WOMEN. How to make the Service of Domestics desirable. — Some of their Trials mentioned. — Anecdote. — Blame. — Praise. — Politeness. — Asking Favors. — Moral and In- tellectual Lnprovement of Domestics. — Care of those who work by the Day. — Hint to those who employ Help 231 CHAPTER Xn. FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. Friendship. — The Treacherous Friend. — Intimacy. — Keeping Secrets. — Gossip. — Reading Societies. — In- termeddling. — Taking Sides. — Quarrels. — Curiosity. — Anecdotes. — Jealousy. — Dislike. — Tenaciousness. — Politeness. — Refinement. — Flattery. — Sins of Con- versation. — Laughter. — lleserve. — Borrowing. — ■ Presents. — Correspondence. — Care of Books — Bad Tricks. —Rash .Tudoments .252 CONTENTS. IX CHAPTER XIII. BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. A great Mistake. — Effect of Example. — A good Listener. — Perpetual Smiles. — Personal Familiarity. — Receiv- ing Company alone. — Riding. — Pecuniary Favors. — Jokes. — Conversation. — Platonic Love. — Offers and Refusals. — Behaviour to Rejected Lovers. — Presents. — Flattery. — Distinction between Friends and Acquaint- ances. — Early Marriages. — Disappointed Affections. — Religion the only Cure for a Wounded Heart. . . . 286 CHAPTER XIV. CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. Lyceums. — Use of Lectures. — The meaning of Lady. — Good Manners. — The Golden Rule. — Suffocating Many to please a Few. — Little Acts of Rudeness. — Public Celebrations. — Example of 111 Conduct. — True Politeness. — Shopping. — Deportment in the Street. — Avoiding Contact. — Apologies. — Taking the Wall. — Draggled Clothes. — Behaviour at Church 317 CHAPTER XV. DINNER PARTIES. A Dinner Engagement binding. — Dress. — Entrance. Places. — Manners at Table. — Accidents. — Eating and Conversing. — Refined Manners. — Champagne. — Finger- Glasses. — Leaving Table. — Coffee. — Depart- ure. — Conversation between Mr. Turner and his Daughter. — Desire for Improvement common. . . . 340 X CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. EVENING PARTIES. Entering a Room. — Self-possession. — Means of Enjoy- ment. — Popularity. — Matrons. — Simplicity. — Dress. — Late Hours. — Politeness in a Crowd. — Supper. — Engrossing Beaux. — Departure 361 CHAPTER XVn. CONVERSATION. The Unruly Member. — Two Besetting Sins. — Ridicule. — Exaggeration. — Misuse of Words. — Example from Mrs. Barbauld. — Favorite Words misapplied. — Trifles magnified. — Irony. — Little Games and Riddles. — Advantages of Hearing Good Conversation. — Conver- sation made an Art. — Fluency without Method. — Ex- ample. — Listening well 373 CHAPTER XVIII. VISITS. Uses of Ceremony. — Morning Calls. — Friendly Visits. — Conformity to Family Rules. — A Snare to be avoid- ed. — Receiving and Returning Calls. — Trouble of Do- mestics. — Neatness in your Chamber. — Care of Fur- niture. — Change of Circumstances by Marriage. — Mistakes of the Rich. — Usefulness of Young Girls. — A Caution. — Confidence between Host and Guest. . 389 CHAPTER XIX. TRAVELLING. Rights of Fellow-passengers. — Courtesy to Women. Anecdote. — Appurtenances of a Lady. — Dress. CONTENTS. XI Steam-boats. — Hotels. — Chamber-maids. — A good Traveller. — Punctuality. — Packing. — Self-possession. — Anecdote. — Another. — Avoid a Rush. — Anecdote of a Father and Daughter 401 CHAPTER XX. MENTAL CULTURE. A Conversation on Usefulness. — Display. — Reading without Thinking. — Applications for Aid. — Periodical Literature unfit for the Young. — Reading with an Ob- ject desirable. — Study of History. — Exercises in Com- position. — A Course of Reading on History. — Biog- raphy. — British Poets. — Travels. — Grammar and Rhetoric. — Sentiment and Morality 417 Conclusion 429 Notes 431 THE YOUNG LADY'S FRIEND CHAPTER I. Introduction. The great Mistake. — Leaving School. — Use of School Studies. — Miss Edgeworth's Opinion. — False Views. — Address to Girls leaving School. — Religion the Foundation of Excel- lence. — Sins of Ignorance. " Now that I have done going to school, 1 shall be my own mistress, and can do as I please all day long. I can walk out in the morning when the shops and streets are full of people, and, having now no lessons to get, I can go out visiting every evening, if I choose. I mean to keep up my music, and read a little French ; but as to history and geography, grammar and philosophy, I have done with them for ever. There are so many really good novels coming out every day, which one ought to be acquainted with, that they will take up all the time I have for reading, so that I shall have employment enough, and that of the most interesting kind. How happy I shall be, now that I have done going to school ! " A 1 2 INTRODUCTION. Such are the feelings and opinions, with which a great many girls regard that epoch of their life, when they cease to attend school, and begin their career as young ladies. Many who read this soliloquy will find in it the echo of what they themselves thought and felt on that occasion. But if such are their views, their school education has failed in what ought to be regarded as its chief purpose, and the years thus spent have been wasted. The great business of early education is to form habits of industry, to train the mind to find pleasure in intellectual eflfort, and to inspire a love of knowledge for its own sake. If you have at- tended school merely because it was expected of you ; if you have learnt your lessons well for the sake of ranking high among your school-fellows ; if you have regarded your studies as daily tasks to be performed till a certain period, when you will be released from them, you are still uneducated ; what you have toiled to commit to memory will soon be for- gotten, and your intellectual powers, in con- sequence of having never been properly called into action, will dwindle away, till it will be matter of wonder to yourselves, how you ever performed your school tasks. This utter waste of the precious morning of life is sometimes the fault of the teacher, sometimes of the scholar ; in many cases both LEAVING SCHOOL. 6 are wholly unconscious of the sad mistakes they are making. As the business of educa- tion comes to be better understood by parents, by guardians, and by children themselves, such fatal errors cannot be persisted in ; and there are already some honorable exceptions. There are schools, which the scholar leaves with regret, where a true thirst for knowledge has been given, where habits of intellectual labor have been formed, where the principle of emulation never enters, and knowledge is its own reward. The teachers of such schools are worthy of all praise ; they should be re- garded as the benefactors of their race ; the rich and powerful should delight to do them honor; their profession should rank with the other learned ones ; and, inasmuch as the influence of mothers is greater than that of fathers in forming the characters of their chil- dren, the office of wisely developing the minds of young women should be ranked among the most honorable employments in the land. But schools the best conducted, and teach- ers the most competent and beloved, must at last give place to other discipline ; a girl can- not always go to school ; the time of quitting her daily tasks must come ; and when it does, it is an important era in her life. If she be- long to the class whom I have first described, it is a season full of danger and temptation ; 4 INTRODUCTION. if to the more fortunate class of well-educated girls, it is still a critical period. The salu- tary influence of the much loved and honored teacher is withdrav/n ; the pupil must now de- pend more on herself than formerly in prose- cuting her studies. Self-education begins where school-education ends ; and, with this additional responsibility, she is placed in new circumstances of temptation and trial. A young lady, on leaving school, is expected to take a more important place in her father's house ; she must go into society ; she must perform her part towards the poor, the sick, and the afflicted; she must assist her mother in domestic affairs, and, with all these added duties, she must continue her own education. When that has been properly begun, the pupil feels that it can never end but with life ; she will also feel, that what has been done at school is but furnishing her with instruments for carrying on the work. If she has there learnt the French, Italian, and Latin languages, she will consider them as the means, by which she is to enrich her mind with the literature of France and Italy ; if she has there read a few abridged histories of various countries, they are to be regarded as a mere introduction to that study of history, which is to enlarge her views of human nature, and give her an insight into the policy of nations and the pro- MISS edgeworth's opinion. 5 gress of civilization ; if she has read in school the Lives of Plutarch, they are to serve as standards of comparison for other biographies, and to be recurred to in reading the history of the times in which those characters lived ; if she has there committed to memory pages of geography, it is that she may have in her mind sketches of countries, vrhich she is ever after to be filling up with additional details ; and so on of all other school exercises, they lay the foundation, on which she must be ever after building. Miss Edgeworth has done much, in her ad- mirable writings for the young, to inculcate this idea, that education must continue all through life. In her " Early Lessons," she ends with this conversation between a brother and two sisters. " How much reason," said Rosamond, " we have to be grateful to our parents, Godfrey, for giving us strong moral principles, with a steady foundation of religion ; and for making us really good friends, instead of what are called great friends." " Very true," said Godfrey ; " but who would have expected such a really wise and really good reflection, at least from Rosamond." " Everybody who knows her as well as I do," said Laura. b INTRODUCTION. " Well," said Godfrey, " I could tell you, and I could tell Rosamond something." " Pray tell me, brother ; you must," said Rosamond. " Then if I must, I will tell you, that there is nobody living, not even yourself, my dear Laura, who has higher expectations of Rosa- mond's sense and goodness than I have ; though I agree, I own, with old Lady Morral, that Miss Rosamond's education has been going on a great while, and that it begins to be time to think of finishing it. The day after we go home, she will arrive with her old ques- tion, ' Ma'am, ivhen ivill Miss Rosamond's educa- tion he finished ? ' " " And you, I hope, will answer," said Rosa- mond, " ' Never while she lives.' " To the young person w^ho does not take this view of intellectual culture, but considers that so many quarters spent at school, and so many books committed to memory, is the doing up of the business, that on quitting school she has " got her education," to use a common phrase, this period is one of great moment and of great danger. Between these two ex- tremes of well and ill educated girls, there are those of every shade of difference. Some, though very imperfectly trained, have yet been put in the right way ; others have la- bored long and hard without being so drawn ADDRESS TO GIRLS LEAVING SCHOOL. 7 out as to find pleasure in intellectual effort ; some have occasionally relished the feast of the wise, but have been called away from it by the voice of pleasure, or the stern com- mand of necessity. How^ever various the causes that interfere with the grand business of education, all young persons are aware, that, at a certain period of their lives, they must cease to at- tend school, and take upon themselves the duties and pleasures of grown women ; and it is to this class at this critical juncture, that I would now offer some assistance in the im- portant task of self-government and self- instruction which then devolves upon them. Addressing myself, therefore, to girls be- tween the ages of fifteen and twenty, I would say, You are now old enough to reflect upon your own characters, to consider in what re- spects you are weak, in what you are strong ; to perceive your own deficiencies, and to wish to supply them. You are about to enter into society, you naturally wish to make an agree- able impression on those you associate with ; you have more time than formerly at your own disposal, you are inclined to make rules for yourselves, and wish for some advice as to the arrangement of your occupations ; you find yourselves in new circumstances and under new temptations, and you need all the aid and b INTRODUCTION. light you can get in learning to guide your- selves aright, in making the most of this life, and preparing yourselves for the enjoyment of a higher and better. Those who are blessed with well-educated, judicious, and experienced mothers, and have been brought up in habits of intimate com- munion with them, have within their rejich the best aid, and need only to be urged to mistrust their own inexperience, and seek frequent counsel from that tenderest of friends, a wise mother. But there is a numerous class, who, either by bereavement or estrangement, are without this maternal aid, and there are others whose mothers are incompetent to the task; both these would gladly take counsel even of a stranger, if she came in the spirit of love and sympathy to offer them the fruits of her experience, and showed them, by her knowl- edge of their wants, that she had some claim to their confidence. It is as this friendly stranger, that I propose giving a few^ hints on the various topics con- nected with the character of a young woman just entering upon life. I beg my young read- ers to consider the following chapters as the familiar talk of a friend, w^ho has passed through the scenes she describes, and is still young enough to remember how she felt at their age ; of one, who views the true self- RELIGION THE FOUNDATION OF EXCELLENCE. 9 discipline she recommends, as added means of enjoyment, and, so far from wishing to abridge the pleasures and privileges of the young, is only desirous of showing them how they may use without abusing them, and so prolong the happiness of their early days. As I do not wish to address any one class in particular, I shall notice the errors to which all are liable ; and, if the town-bred lady finds some advice which does not apply to her situ- ation, she must pass it by and turn to some- thing that does ; w^hilst the belle of a country village must appropriate those hints that suit her condition in life, and not wonder if some temptations are mentioned from which she is happily exempt, and some rules given which are inapplicable to her mode of life. And now let me premise, that I write for those in whom the moral sense has been de- veloped with the intellectual faculties, for those who feel and acknowledge the duties which grow out of their relation to God and their immortal destiny ; for, if I did not take this for granted, I should make the present work a series of homilies, or a book of ex- tracts from all that has been so ably written to urge young people to " seek first the king- dom of God." Fully persuaded as T am, that there is no other foundation for happiness in every stage of existence than that which Jesus iO INTRODUCTION. Christ has laid, no means of turning this life to its best account, but by making a conscience of all our ways, and no improvement worth pursuing, but that which educates the soul for eternity, all my hints and instructions must be based upon Christian principles ; though it is impossible to combine, in this small volume, the advice which belongs to the teaching of religion with that which concerns the minor morals of life. Enough has been said and written, and is continually offered to the con- sideration of the young, to convince them of those great truths which lie at the foundation of their happiness in time and eternity : it is the purpose of this little w^ork to enter into details, which cannot be found in the longer and graver treatises on religion and morals; to point out the means of acquiring those lesser graces of character and manners, which adorn and set forth to the best advantage the more solid qualities, and which, though of little val- ue unless they spring from that love to God and man, which is the root of Christian virtue, are not always found growing by its side. Many, who are really conscientious and de- sire to carry their religion into every thing they do or say, are ignorant of the thousand ways in which they may either please or of- fend, and thus unconsciously annoy their best friends, and leave undone what would gratify them. SINS OF IGNORANCE. 11 How it would startle many an amiable and well-educated girl to be thus addressed by an experienced friend; "You are in the daily habit of doing things, which shock my taste, infringe upon my rights, cause me contin- ual personal inconvenience, remind me un- necessarily of the infirmities of your body, make you appear selfish where you least in- tend to be so, coarse where you would fain be refined, noisy where you might be gen- tle, an incumbrance where you might be an acquisition." Yet this might be said with truth to half the misses in their teens, who little know how much they are indebted to the patience and good humor of their elders, for tolerating them in their awkwardness and ig- norance ; but, if their faults were once pointed out to them, they would see them in their true light, and avoid them for ever afterwards. Those who are most annoyed by the faulty manners of the young, cannot always point out to them the little details in which they are defective ; they condemn their conduct in general terms, without attempting to analyze it, or to help them to correct it. To supply this deficiency in the friends of the young, and to stand in the place of friends to those who have none, is the purpose for which the following pages are written. By entering into the most minute details of every-day life, I would hold up to view those little particulars 12 ~ IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. of conduct, which, though trifling in them- selves, go to make up an agreeable or disa- greeable whole ; I would show the numerous ways, in which thoughtlessness of the rights of others leads to their violation. CHAPTER II. On the Improvement of Time. Distribution of Time. — Care of odd Minutes. — A valuable Rule. — Early Rising. — A Contrast. — Picture of Early Rising. — Effect of Heat and Cold on Industry. — Excessive Nicety. — Value of a Day. — Thinking and Sewing. — En- ergy of Purpose. — Madame Roland. — Attention. — Lord Chesterfield. How are very young persons to be convinced of the value of time, when to them a year seems almost endless, and a pleasure that is deferred for a month seems too far off for happy anticipation ? A year appears very long to the young, because it bears so large a pro- portion to the whole period they have lived ; as we advance, this proportion becomes less and less, till, in old age, a year seems no longer than a month did in childhood. Abun- dant as time seems to the young, we con- stantly hear them excuse themselves for some duty omitted, by saying they had not time to do it, which should convince them they have DISTRIBUTION OF TIME. 13 no more of tins precious gift than they require, and that there is some defect in their manage- ment of it, or they would not sometimes be wishing to accelerate the flight of a day, and at other times omit a duty for want of an hour in which to perform it. There are a few plain questions, which, if honestly answered, might serve to convince any young lady, that, however long a year may seem to her in prospect, the proper use of each day would make it appear short. Let her ask herself, if her own clothes are in complete order, if there are no buttons and strings off", no gloves or stockings that need to be mended, none of those numberless stitches to be set, which every young woman should do for herself, and the necessity for w^hich is of perpetual recurrence. Let her consider, wheth- er there are not many books, that she has been advised to read, but which she has not yet found time to begin ; whether she has not let- ters to answer, accounts to settle, papers to arrange, commissions to execute for absent friends, visits to make, kind offices to perform, which have all been deferred for want of time ; and then let her judge, whether the days and weeks are too long for the duties which ought to be performed in them, and whether her use of the days that are gone has been the best possible. 14 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. Much of a woman's time is necessarily con- sumed by the every-day business of life. The proper care of her own person and clothing demands much more time than that of the other sex. Some household duties fall to the share of almost all young women, and claim a portion of each day ; and, without a wise dis- tribution of her time and a strict adherence to her plan of life, she is in danger of having her intellectual and spiritual improvement con- tinually sacrificed to the lesser interests of clothing and feeding the body. To prevent this, it is desirable that you should take into serious consideration the plan of life which best suits your age and circumstances, decide upon what ought to constitute your daily round of occupations, and allot to each its fitting time. By having regular hours for the different em- ployments of the day, you will avoid the great waste of time, which is occasioned by uncer- tainty as to what you shall do next. Having made a general distribution of your time and occupations for the day, provide for unavoid- able interruptions and delays, by having a book of easy reading to fill up odd minutes, and a piece of needle-work always at hand to employ your fingers upon, when listening to others, or when your mind is so preoccupied that you cannot give it to a book. The old adage, " Take care of the pence, A VALUABLE RULE. 15 and the pounds will take care of themselves," may be thus parodied, Take care of the min- utes, and the days will take care of them- selves. If the minutes were counted, that are daily wasted in idle reverie or still idler talk, in thinking of setting about a task that is not relished, and in looking for things that should never have been mislaid, they would soon amount to hoursj and prove sufficient for the acquisition of some elegant art, or the study of some useful science. Almost every young person has something in view which she would like to do, if she had time for it ; and by scru- tinizing her appropriation of every hour in the day, she will generally find as much time wasted as would suffice for the desired end, if resolutely redeemed from idleness. A professional gentleman, of rare attain- ments, and one who added to the laborious du- ties of his calling a great variety of learning, much scientific research, and many elegant ac- complishments, was asked by a young lady how he found time for all that he did. He replied, " There is one rule which I have found of great use, and therefore recommend it to you ; and that is, always to do small things, such as writing a letter, copying out some short piece, making a sketch, reading a review^, &c., in small portions of time, and to reserve a whole day of leisure for some long and important affair. 16 IMFROVEMENT OF TIME. , Never use up a rainy morning in doing a va- riety of little jobs, and think, because you despatch a great many, that you have well bestowed your time ; leave small affairs for odd half-hours, and use your uninterrupted morning for something that cannot be done in half-hours. You have sometimes w^ondered at my having time to correspond with so many absent friends ; but all my letters of friendship are written in odd minutes, whilst I am wait- ing for people who are not so punctual to their appointments as 1 am." You would think it poor economy to cut into a whole yard of cloth, when you wanted a little piece to mend with ; you would take a scrap from among your remnants : just such poor economy of time is it to use up a w^hole day in little unconnected affairs ; let your remnants of time suffice for these. I knew a family in which all the collars and wristbands of shirts were stitched in odd minutes, that w^ould otherw^ise have been wast- ed. The lady of the house w^as always pro- vided with one in her bag, and used to stitch upon it when waiting for any body, and in scraps of time that must occur between regu- larly allotted portions of it. I myself read through all the papers of the Sj)ectator and Rambler, whilst waiting breakfast for an un- punctual member of the family ; and netted EARLY RISING. 17 many yards of lace, whilst he was discussing his toast and coffee. A friend of mine, going to consult her dentist, found in his parlour an elderly lady waiting to be operated upon, and turning the odd minutes to account by stitch- ing away upon a wristband she had brought with her for the purpose. This was not only good economy of time, but an excellent seda- tive for the nerves, and must have rendered less tedious and irksome the time she was obliged to wait. To sleep a greater number of hours than is necessary for rest and refreshment is a volun- tary and w^anton abridgment of life. She who sleeps only one hour a day more than health requires, will, in a life of three score years and ten, shorten her conscious existence nearly four years, allowing sixteen hours to the day. Too much sleep weakens the body, and stupefies the mind ; but when we take only what nature demands, the body is invigorated, and the mind has its powers renovated. Early rising is not only expedient, but it is a duty, on which many others depend. She who sleeps late and rises in haste, cannot find time for those thoughts and meditations which are calculated to prepare her soul for the busi- ness of the day, neither will due care and at- tention be bestowed upon her morning toilet ; her ablutions will not be such as are required n* 9 18 IMPROVEMEiNT OF TIME. by a due regard to health and cleanliness ; her hair will not be thoroughly combed and brushed, and put up nicely for the day ; every thing will be done carelessly and in haste, and from another portion of the morning must be taken the time necessary for farther adjust- ment of her dress. When breakfast is late, the whole business of a house is retarded, and the heads of the family must not be surprised if their example of late hours is followed by ail in their em- ploy. When parents rise early, and are ready for an early breakfast, they should insist on the younger members of the family conforming to their hours ; for a habit of punctuality to an early breakfast is one of the best gifts they can bestow on their children. W^here this is not enforced by parental authority, the good sense and good feelings of the young people ought to insure their punctual attendance at this meal. Those who do the work of the house feel it to be a grievance, when their business is retarded by the breakfast remain- ing on the table for one individual after the rest have done. Let us now sum up the evils of late rising to a young lady. Her body is enfeebled, and her eyes are heavy; her mind is stupefied, her devotions are neglected, or hastily performed ; her toilet is slovenly and incomplete ; her PICTURE OF EARLY RISING 19 morning meal is taken alone, or with those who are annoyed at having waited for her, and the attendants are out of humor; to all this may be added a painful sense of ill desert hanging like a mill-stone round her neck all day. The reverse of this picture may be easily drawn. The early riser is refreshed and in- vigorated by the right quantity of sleep ; her eye is bright, and her mind unclouded. She has time and inclination to meditate upon God and hold communion with him ; she prepares her mind and heart for the duties of the day. Her body is duly cared for, all the niceties of a careful toilet are attended to ; she meets her family at the breakfast-table, and relieves her mother from the trouble of presiding at it ; every thing is done in season, the domestics smile upon her, and she feels the impulse which is given by a consciousness of having begun the day well. The advantages of early rising are thus set forth in that beautiful, but forgotten, little book, called " The Whole Duty of Woman." " Industry is up with the sun, she awaketh at the crowing of the cock, and walketh abroad to taste the sweetness of the morning. "She is ruddy as the daughter of health; her ears are delighted with the music of the shrill lark. " Her garment sweepeth the dewdrop from 20 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. the new stubble and the green grass, and her path is by the murmuring of the purling brook. " Her appetite is keen ; her blood is pure and temperate, and her pulse beateth even. '^ Her house is elegant, her handmaids are the daughters of neatness, and plenty smileth at her table. " She saunters not, neither stretcheth her- self out on the couch of indolence. " She crieth not, What have I to do ? but the work of her hands is the thought of a moment. " She listeneth not to the gossip's tale, she sippeth not her tea in scandal ; but employ- ment is the matter of her discourse. " Her Avork is done at evening, but the work of the slothful is put off till to-morrow." I cannot pretend to name a proper hour either for retiring or rising ; these must differ in dif- ferent states of society : wdiat would be called early in one place, would be deemed late in another. Early rising naturally disposes a person to retire early ; and having ascertained the exact quantity of sleep which agrees best with the health of body and mind, the hours of rest should be arranged accordingly ; always taking care to secure as much daylight as possible for our waking hours, and giving to sleep the hours of darkness. EFFECT OF HEAT AND COLD ON INDUSTRY. 21 The extremes of heat and cold are unfavor- able to constant industry, but much may be done by intellectual beings to obviate the ten- dencies of climate. A great deal of time is wasted in winter, in hovering over the fire and talking of the cold, in delaying to set about a piece of work, because it requires one to leave a warm room. But a little resolution will remedy all this. You can make yourselves as comfortable by taking your work or book, and sitting at a moderate distance from the fire, as by hang'ng idly over it; and if you run off briskly after what you need, the exercise will warm you better than the parlour fire. In summer, again, no less time is consumed in lamenting that it is so warm, and in lounging idly about, undressing several times a day in order to cool, lying down in the afternoon, and sleeping an hour or more, all which practices must be condemned as worse than useless, as a wanton killing of time. The less you think and speak about the heat, the less you will feel it ; the more industriously you occupy your- selves, the less you will be incommoded by the weather ; if you never undress yourselves un- seasonably, you will never feel any need of doing so; and for a young lady, in good health, to lie down on a bed to sleep, in the daytime, is a sad waste of existence, unless some pecu- liar exertion renders unusual rest necessary. 22 IMPROVEME?^T OF TIME. Much time may be saved by learning to do everything in the best manner, by taking hold of things in the right way; but much may also be wasted in finical nicety. Whilst it is im- portant to do everything well, it is equally so not to bestow more pains and time on any thing, than it is worth. In needle-work, for instance,* there is often a useless sacrifice of time, labor, and eyesight, and twice as many stitches are put into a garment as are requisite for durability or appearance. Some house- keepers are so nice, that the whole comfort of the family is sacrificed to a perpetual warfare against dust. Cleanliness and order are in- dispensable in a house ; but I would not have a lady so bent on removing dust, as to jump up in the middle of an interesting conversation, to wipe away a few particles that have settled on a piece of furniture in the room, or disturb a set of readers, intent upon their books, to sweep up a few crumbs under their feet. Time is of more value than to be spent in this ex- cessive nicety ; and whatever can be saved from occupations of daily recurrence, is a great gain in the course of the year. Time is saved, too, by learning to keep things in order, by not letting crumbs fall on the floor, and by not making any litter about the room. A few moments spent in returning things to their proper places, will save you VALUE OF A DAY. 23 hours of setting to rights. A habit of moving quickly is another way of gaining time ; and though there is a great original difference in persons, self-education can do a great deal to accelerate the movements of the slow. Let a person who has thought very little about the value of time, try for once how^ much can be accomplished in one day, by going industriously from one occupation to another, by turning all the odd minutes to account ; she will be surprised at her ov,^n povrers, and at the importance of even one day in her existence ; then let her reflect on the much that might be done in a year, if every day w^ere used in the same way. We ought to regard every day as a valuable gift, and " be- gin it wath a steady purpose, to make as much of it, as if it were to be our whole existence." There is time enough, in a well-ordered day, for everything that a young lady ought to do. Time enough for her morning and evening consultation with her conscience, and seeking for communion wdth God ; time enough for a careful and exact toilet, for household duties, for study ; time enough for exercise in the open air, for visits of ceremony and visits to the poor, for family intercourse, for serious and light reading, for needle-work and accom- plishments ; nothing need be left undone for want of time, if you only know how to econ- 24 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. omize that most precious possession, and are resolute to perform all that you can. If you are for ever in a hurry, and tormented with the sense of deficiency, and have things laid up in your memory as what ought to be done, but for which you cannot find time, you may be sure there is some defect in your plan of life ; you have either taken upon yourself engagements and occupations that you had better dispense with, or there is some waste of your precious hours, that ought to be put an end to ; and the sooner you enter upon a thorough investigation and reform, the better. Many hours in a w^oman's life are devoted to employments that do not occupy the mind, such as plain sewing, embroidery, knitting, netting, &c., and this time is generally spent in vague reverie ; some persons dignify it with the name of thought, or meditation ; but, when trains of ideas are allowed to pass through the mind whilst the understanding remains passive, it is nothing better than reverie, and this is, at once, the greatest waste of time and injury to the intellect. Now a little self-discipline would turn these hours to account, by accustoming you to think and work at the same time, and a little manage- ment would provide for the joint occupation of ears and fingers. When engaged with your needle, a younger brother's lesson may be THINKIJJG AND SEWING. 25 heard, reading aloud can be listened to with advantage, or a sister's practising can be attended to. If you are so situated that none of these resources are at hand, you can exer- cise your memory by repeating something you have learned, or you can commit a new piece, by placing the book open before you. Dr. Beattie mentions a highly gifted lady of Jiis acquaintance, who always read whilst she was sewing or knitting, and had so learned to divide her sight betw^een her book and her needle, as to go through many volumes in that way. If you are unable to acquire this art, you can certainly learn to think whilst you are mechanically employed, and so redeem your mind from that slothful state which will ener- vate every faculty. You can begin by taxing yourself to remember all the particulars of something you have read or heard, or you can make comparisons, and find differences and likenesses between things, or characters, or writings. You are doubtless acquainted with the works of Miss Edgeworth, and have read many of Sir Walter Scott's. If you have read " Waverley," think over the leading features of the story, consider the hero's character, and whether you ever read of any other like it. Perhaps " Vivian " may occur to you as an- other wavering person, led on by circumstances against his better judgment ; then compare 26 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. the two heroes, find out all the particulars in which they resemble, and in which they differ from each other. This will be a useful exer- cise of the memory and judgment. When a subject is once started in your mind, and you find you have some thoughts upon it, do not suflfer your attention to wander away to some other topic, but keep on, thinking about that one thing, till you have fairly thought it out. This will strengthen your mind as bodily ex- ercise does the muscles, and is a real improve- ment of time. In Hannah More's beautiful story of " The Shepherd of Salisbury Plain," you will find an example of the very economy of time I am recommending. There, a poor untutored man turns to account the silent watches of the night, when he is obliged to be abroad, tend- ing his flocks, by meditating upon portions of Scripture which he has previously committed to memory, and by methodizing his thoughts and recollections. Just as the finest library is useless to the student, unless arranged according to some order and with a catalogue to indicate its treasures ; just as a ship-load of natural curi- osities would be of little worth, until classed and arranged scientifically; just as your own work-box would be of little use, if every spool of cotton and skein of silk were unwound and ENERGY OF PURPOSE. 27 tangled up together, if all your needles and pins were mixed, and every article in confu- sion ; so are the treasures of the mind of little avail, if all sorts of facts and impressions are indiscriminately remembered and laid up to- gether, without classification or arrangement. What is taken into the mind by means of reading, observation, and conversation, does not minister to its growth, unless assimilated to it by reflection, comparison, and all the processes of the mind necessary to mature our thoughts ; and these can be carried on to great advantage, whilst the fingers are mechanically employed. The habit of setting yourself to work qui- etly, promptly, and resolutely, helps on the business of the day wonderfully. I have seen one sister half through a task that was not agreeable to either, whilst the other was lamenting the necessity of doing it, and con- sidering how to get through it with the least trouble. Those who talk much of what they do, or are going to do, are not those w^ho accomplish the most. Where there is a spirit of order and method in the heads of a family, or the business of it is properly distributed among the members, each one knowing his or her appointed task, and setting regularly and quietly about it, so much is despatched in a short time, that the 28 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. day seems to contain more hom's than it is found to have in an ill-ordered family, where all is hurry and bustle, and yet nothing is done in its season. In support of this statement, I may quote the words of the celebrated Madame Roland, whose house was the focus of political meas- ures and feelings, during the most eventful days of the first French revolution ; and who, though deep in the counsels of her husband, and often employed by him to draw up the state papers which he used as minister of the home department, always found time to prose- cute her own studies, and to attend to do- mestic affairs. In her interesting "Appeal to Posterity,"* she says: — "Domestic cares I never neglected ; but I cannot comprehend how a woman of method and activity can have her attention engrossed by them, let her household be as considerable as it may; for, supposing it great, there are the more persons to take part of them off her hands ; and nothing is wanting but a proper distribution of employments and a small share of vigilance. In the different situations, in which I have been placed, nothing *To such as cannot obtain the original appeal in French, or the translation of it published in London in 1796, for the benefit of Madame Roland's only daughter, I would recommend the Life of that remarkable woman published in the first volume of " The Ladies' Family Library." ATTENTION. 29 has- ever been done but by my orders ; and yet, when those cares gave me the most occupa- tion, they scarcely ever consumed more than two hours a day. People who know how to employ themselves, always find leisure mo- ments ; while those wdio do nothing, are in w^ant oi^ time for every thing. I have seen what are termed notable women rendered insupportable to the world, and even to their husbands, by a fatiguing preoccupation about their trifling concerns. I think the mistress of a family should superintend every thing herself without saying a word about it, and with such com- mand of temper and management of time, as will leave her the means of pleasing by her good humor, intelligence, and the grace natu- ral to her sex." As another means of improving time, I would advise you, whatever you do, to do it heartily, and to give your w^hole attention to it. If, from any circumstances, you find your mind incapable of fixed application to a book which you are reading, or a translation you are making, or some new music you are learn- ing, do not sit over your task in vain, wdth eyes, which, though fixed on the page, do not convey one idea to the mind ; but immediately change your occupation for something you can attend to ; and w^hen you have succeeded in fixing your attention on any task, however c* 30 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. light, you have managed your mind, and econ- omized your time, better than in reading the profoundest work with wandering thoughts. So much has been said and written during the last forty years on the subject of attention, and it has been so ably shown by Miss Edge- worth, and Mrs. Hamilton, and other writers on education, to lie at the foundation of all intellectual culture, to constitute the great dif- ference between wise and foolish people, that it is to be hoped the young ladies of the pres- ent day come forward in life with that faculty developed and strengthened by judicious treat- ment in childhood and youth. It would be well for every one to test herself upon this point, by seeing whether she can, at will, concentrate her whole powers of mind upon a given sub- ject j whether she can take up a grave work and read in it for half an hour without one wandering thought ; whether she can make a translation of twenty lines without thinking of any thing but what she is about. If she cannot do this, it is most likely that full half her reading is to no purpose, the mind is wan- dering whilst the eye is fixed, and if she were to stop suddenly and ask herself what the last page was about, she would be unable to give any account of the matter. Such an employ- ment of time is the greatest waste of it, as well as a real injury to the mind. When this LORD CHESTERFIELD. 31 habit of inattention prevails, it prevents us from reaping the full benefit of any thing we do, or see, or hear ; whereas an attentive ob- server is always learning, his lightest occupa- tions are still means of knowledge. Two hours spent at an evening party will leave nothing but vague impressions, and be a mere waste of time to one person, whilst to another they will have furnished abundant topics of reflection and be full of instruction. In one of Lord Chesterfield's Letters to his Son, is the following passage on the employ- ment of time, which is so much in point, that I cannot forbear to quote it ; and I do this the more readily, because there is so much that is hollow in his morality and anti-christian in his politeness, that I cannot recommend the pe- rusal of the whole book. " Nor do I call pleasures idleness, or time lost, provided they are the pleasures of a ra- tional being ; on the contrary, a certain portion of your time, employed in those pleasures, is very usefully employed. Such are some pub- lic spectacles, and good company ; but then these require attention, or else your time is quite lost. " There are a great many people, who think themselves employed all day, and who, if they were to cast up their accounts at night, would find that they had done just nothing. They 32 IMPROVEMENT OF TIME. have read two or three hours mechanically, without either attending to what they read, and; consequently, without retaining it, or rea- soning upon it. Thence they saunter into company, without taking any part in it, and without observing the characters of the per- sons, or the subjects of the conversation ; but are either thinking of some trifle, foreign to the present purpose, or often not thinking at all ; \vhich silly and idle suspension of thought they would dignify with the name of absence and distraction. ''Pray do you be as attentive to your pleas- ures as to your studies. In the latter, observe and reflect upon all you read ; and in the for- mer, be watchful and attentive to all that you see and hear ; and never have it to say, as a thousand fools do, of things that were said and done before their faces, ' That truly they did not mind them, because they were thinking of something else.' Why w^ere they thinking of something else ? and, if they were, w^hy did they come there ? The truth is, that the fools w^ere thinking of nothing. Remember to do -well what you are about, be that w^hat it will ; it is either worth doing well, or not at all. Wherever you are, have your ears and your eyes about you. Listen to every thing that is said, and see every thing that is done." woman's peculiar calling. 33 CHAPTER III. Domestic Economy. Woman's peculiar Calling. — How to save Labor. — Domestic Affairs honorable. — Example. — French Housekeeping. — Useless Discussion. — Housework good for the Health. — Pouring out Tea and Coffee. — Preparation for Cookery. — Preparation for Dinner Company. — Expense. — Allowance. — Anecdote. — Uncertainty of Riches. — Anecdote. — Best Things, — Greneral Rules. For a young woman in any situation in life to be ignorant of the various business that be- longs to good housekeeping, is as great a de- ficiency as it would be in a merchant not to understand accounts, or the master of a vessel not to be acquainted with navigation. If a woman does not know how the various work of a house should be done, she might as well know nothing, for that is her express vocation ; and it matters not how much learning, or how many accomplishments, she may have, if she is wanting in that which is to fit her for her pe- culiar calling. Whether rich or poor, young or old, married or single, a woman is always liable to be called to the performance of every kind of domestic duty, as well as to be placed at the head of a family ; and nothing short of a practical knowl- edge of the details of housekeeping can ever 3 34 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. ;iiake those duties easy, or render her competent to direct others in the performance of them. All moral writers on female character treat of domestic economy as an indispensable part of female education, and this too in the old countries of Europe, where an abundant popu- lation, and the institutions of society, render it easy to secure the services of faithful domes- tics. Madame Roland, one of the most re- markable women of the last century, says of herself, " The same child who read systematic works, who could explain the circles of the celestial sphere, who could handle the crayon and the graver, and who at eight years of age was the best dancer in the youthful parties, was frequently called into the kitchen to make an omelet, pick herbs, and skim the pot." All female characters that are held up to admiration, whether in fiction or in biography, will be found to possess these domestic ac- complishments ; and if they are considered in- dispensable in the old world, how much more are they needed in this land of independence, where riches cannot exempt the mistress of a family from the difficulty of procuring efficient aid, and where perpetual change of domestics renders perpetual instruction and superinten- dence necessary. Since, then, the details of good housekeeping must be included in a good female education, HOW TO SAVE LABOR. 35 it is very desirable that they should be ac- quired when young, and so practised as to become easy, and to be performed ''3xterously and expeditiously ; for, important as they are, they must not be allowed to consume too much time, and the ready wit and ingenuity of a woman cannot be turned to better account, than in devising methods of expediting household arTairs, and producing the best effect with the least expense of time and labor. It is worthy of remark, that in this country, where it is so difHcult to procure a sufxiciency of household labor, the mode of furnishing a house, and conducting the business of a family, is such as to require more attendance, than the same style of living v/ould demand in France and other parts of Europe. The quantity of brass to be kept bright, and of mahogany fur- niture to be rubbed, is, in a considerable de- gree, peculiar to this country, and might be easily dispensed with, without any abatement of comfort or neatness ; whilst the labor, thus wasted, might be turned to much better ac- count. It is for your own ease and that of your domestics, to abridge the work of the house as much as possible, and, by endeavour- ing to find out the relative importance of the different branches of household economy, to give to each its due weight and no more. By good management, the use of mplhod, and the 36 DOMESTIC ECONOxMY. habit of moving quickly, all may be done in order and in season, and much of the day left for other things. Let those who find them- selves so overloaded with these cares and du- ties, that they do not find time for cultivating their minds and attending to the claims of benevolence, carefully examine their way of life, and see if they cannot retrench some hours from their every-day occupations. Per- haps they may be doing as a young lady of my acquaintance did, who used to spend two hours every morning in arranging the glasses of flowers that adorned her mother's parlour ; and, when asked if she had read such and such books, replied in the negative, and gave as a reason, that she never could find time to read. Better would it have been for her nev- er to have had a flower in the house, than thus to neglect the more important duties of mental culture. It is well to bear in mind, that there is always time enough for every thing that we ought to do and if any duty is neglected from a supposed want of time, the fault is in our arrangement ; we have given too much to some occupation or amusement, and should immediately make a wiser distri- bution of our hours. Now, if it is granted by my young friends, that they ought to take a part in domestic af- fairs, then let them do it with a good grace, KXAMPLE. .37 and not be ashamed of it. Some persons are ^ very notable, but take the greatest pains to conceal it, as if it were a disgrace rather than a merit ; their moral sense is clouded by some false notions of gentility, or their false pride makes them fancy certain occupations to be , degrading, as if it were possible that persons should be degraded by doing that which they ought to do. The young lady who spends two hours a day over her flowers, ought to be ashamed of that ; but, if the arrangements of your father's household make it desirable and proper that you should assist at the ironing-table, or in making cake and pies, or in clear-starching your own muslins, or in making preserves, or cleaning silver, or doing any such piece of notable work, you should no more think of concealing it, or being ashamed of it, than you would be of combing your hair, or hemming a pocket handkerchief. This false shame about housev/ifery adds much to its unpleasantness ; whereas a true view of the beauty and fitness of these feminine offices, would invest them with a charm, and recommend them to the most refined. The elegant and accomplished Lady Mary Wortley Montague, who figured in the fashion- able as well as in the literary circles of her time, has said that " the most minute details D 38 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. of household economy become elegant and re- fined, when they are ennobled by sentiment ; " and they are truly ennobled when we do them, either from a sense of duty, or consid- eration for a parent, or love to a husband. " To furnish a room," continues this lady, " is no longer a common-place affair, shared with upholsterers and cabinet-makers ; it is deco- rating the place where I am to meet a friend or lover. To order dinner is not merely ar- ranging a meal with my cook, it is preparing refreshment for him whom I love. These neces- sary occupations, viewed in this light by a person capable of strong attachment, are so many pleasures, and afford her far more delight than the games and shows which constitute the amusements of the world." Such is the testimony of a titled lady of the last century to the sentiment that may be made to mingle in the most homely occupations. I will now quote that of a modern female writer and traveller, who, in her pleasant book, called " Six Weeks on the Loire," has thus described the housewifery of the daughter of a French nobleman, residing in a superb chateau on that river. The travellers had just arrived and been introduced, when the following scene took place. " The bill of fare for dinner was discussed FRENCH HOUSE-KEEPING. 39 in my presence and settled, sans f agon, with that delightful frankness and gayety, which in the French character gives a charm to the most trifling occurrence. Mademoiselle Louise then begged me to excuse her for half an hour, as she was going to make some creams and some pastilles. I requested I might accom- pany her and also render myself useful; we accordingly went together to the dairy. I made tarts a VAnglaise^ whilst she made con- fections and bonbons, and all manner of pretty things, with as much ease as if she had never done anything else, and as much grace as she displayed in the saloon. I could not help thinking, as I looked at her, with her servants about her, all cheerful, respectful, and anxious to attend upon her, how much better it would be for the young ladies in England, if they would occasionally return to the habits of their grandmammas, and mingle the animated and endearing occupations of domestic life, and the modest manners and social amusements of home, with the perpetual practising on harps and pianos, and the incessant efforts at display and search after gayety, w^hich, at the present day, render them anything but what an amiable man of a reflecting mind and deli- cate sentiments would desire in the woman he might wish to select as his companion for life. " But it was not only in the more trifling 40 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. affairs of the m'jnage that this young lady ac- quitted herself so agreeably ; in the household, the garden, the farm, among the laborers, their wives and children, with the poor in the neigh- bourhood, and the casual wanderer, everywhere she was superintending, directing, kind, amia- ble, the comfort of all around, and the delight of her family ; her cheerfulness was in propor- tion to ' — that sweet peace which goodness bosoms ever.' She flew up and down the rocks with the light- ness of a mountain roe ; she sprang into a boat like the Lady of the Lake, and could manage an oar with as much grace and skill. With all this, her mind was thoroughly cultivated. She had an elegant taste in the authors of her own language, understood Latin, Italian, and Eng- lish, and charmed me with her conversation, whilst she employed her fingers in the fancy work, with which the French ladies occupy the moments which some call idle, but which with them are always sociably and generally carefully employed." May the daughters of our republic, who er- roneously suppose that the first step in gen- tility is a contempt for household affairs, lay to heart the lesson contained in this descrip- tion of high life in the old w^orld. Having now shown, that to understand and USELESS DISCUSSION. 41 superintend all that belongs to domestic econ- omy is the proper vocation of a woman, let her situation in life be what it may, and that, so far from being ashamed of it, she should dignify it by her manner of exercising it, a caution may be necessary against making its details too prominent in the social circle, and talking too much about them. Honorable as is the performance of those daily duties, it is bad taste to say much about them. A well- ordered house has been fitly compared to a watch, all the wheels and springs of which are out of sight, and it is only known that they exist, and are in order, by the regularity wdth which their results are brought about. The time necessarily consumed by these daily cares is very considerable ; let us beware how we add to it by wasting a moment on needless recapitulation and useless discus- sions of domestic affairs. When you have done your household tasks to the best of your abilities, dismiss the subject from your mind, and do not let the thought of it intrude upon other things that have their appropriate place in the day's occupatioil. The disinterested affection of mothers often leads them to dispense with all assistance from their daughters, in their domestic affairs, so long as they are in daily attendance upon school, or, as the common phrase is, whilst 42 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. they are "^' getting their education." Where the school hours are diligently employed, and the tasks laborigus, and much time is required to prepare lessons at home, it is particularly important that all the leisure a girl has should be wisely disposed of; but far better would it be for her health, that some of it should be given to the stirring occupations of the house- hold, than that she should be sitting over a frame of worsted or lace work, hurting her eyes and wasting her time in making bead bags, or some little ornamental article of dress, not worth a tithe of the pains bestowed upon it. Next in healthfulness to exercise in the open air, is that which is taken in the various occu- pations of a notable housekeeper. Making a bed is such very good exercise of the whole body, that it is often prescribed, by English physicians, to young ladies in high life, who are suffering from want of sufficient bodily ex- ertion; and many a titled lady, in the old world, has been condemned to share the labors of the housemaid, in order to bring back the color to her faded cheek, and improve the play of her lungs. An elderly lady of this country, as much dis- tinguished for her skill in domestic affairs as for her literary taste and intellectual attain- ments, smiles when her young friends speak of walking in the streets for health, and tells HOUSE-WORK GOOD FOR THE HEALTH. 43 them they would find it much more effectual ex- ercise to sw^eep a chamber or rub furniture, and this being done with the windows open would give them the fresh air also. It is therefore mistaken kindness in mothers, to excuse their daughters from aj] participation in the work of the house ; since it deprives them of exer- cise that would benefit their health, and of a habit of usefulness, highly valuable to girls of all classes. If this has been the experience of any of my readers, I would advise them, whilst they love and honor the disinterested affection that has spared them all domestic labor, to change their habits on leaving school, and to make a point of taking care of their own chambers at least, if the arrangements of the family do not render further exertions, in that way, desira- ble. It is a good plan, to strip the clothes off your bed and shake it up, as soon as you rise from it ; by doing it then, your cap protects your hair from any lint or feathers, and being lightly clothed, your movements are perfectly free, and the glow occasioned by the exertion makes you, on a cold morning, feel less dread of cold water. You can finish making your bed and dust your furniture after you are drest and before breakfast, if there is time ; but if not, return and do it as soon as possible after that meal is over. 44 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. At breakfast, too, a grown-up daughter should relieve her mother from the trouble of pouring out tea and coffee, and, by giving her mind to the business and learning all her mother's ways, make it agreeable to her to re- sign the office. I have seen some young ladies very earnest to be of use, and to take some of their mother's duties on themselves ; but by not entering into the true spirit of the business, and learning to do the thing in the best way, their services have not been acceptable ; and, far from being conscious that the fault was in themselves, they have blamed their mothers for not being allowed to relieve them of some of their burthens. There is more to be learned about pouring out tea and coffee, than most young ladies are willing to believe. If those decoctions are made at the table, which is by far the best way, they require experience, judgment, and exactness ; if they are brought on the table ready made, it still requires judgment so to apportion them, that they shall prove sufficient in quantity for the family party, and that the elder members shall have the stronger cups. I have often seen persons pour out tea, who, not being at all aware that the first cup is the weakest, and that the tea grows stronger as you proceed, have bestowed the poorest cup upon the greatest stranger, and given the POURING OUT TEA AND COFFEE. 45 strongest to a very young member of the finni ly who would have been better without any. Where several cups of equal strength are want- ed, you should pour a little into each, and then go back inverting the order as you fdl them up, and then the strength will be apportioned properly. This is so well understood in Eng- land, that an experienced pourer of tea waits till all the cups of the company are returned to her, before she fills any a second time, that all may share alike. You should learn every one's taste, in the matter of sugar and cream too, in order to suit them in that respect. Delicacy and neatness may be shown in the manner of handling and rinsing the cups, of helping persons to sugar, and using the cream- pot without letting the cream run down from the lip. There are ^ thousand little niceties which will occur to you, if you give due atten- tion to the business, and resolve to do it with the thrift of a good housekeeper, and the ease and dignity of a refined lady. When you have once acquired good habits in this department, it will require less attention, and you will always do it in the best way without thinking much about it. T knew one very happy match, that grew out of the admiration felt by a gentleman on seeing a young lady preside well at the tea- table. Her graceful and dexterous movements 46 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. there, first fixed his attention upon her and led to a further acquaintance. If you wish to assist in the business of a family, and yet to have fixed hours for other things, you must choose those departments which are independent of others, such as doing up your own muslins and laces, taking care of your own chamber, presiding at the breakfast and tea table, washing up the china there used, arranging the fruit for desert, trimming the parlour lamps, and many other things, that may be quickly disposed of, and so leave you at leisure for your other employments. Where, however, it is necessary to cooperate with others, do it cheerfully, and make your private arrangements accordingly. If you are required to make cake or pies, and can do it before breakfast, there is a great saving of time in it j as by rising earlier you may accomplish it without sacrificing any of your usual occupa- tions. You can dress yourself at once for the business and save time in that way also. And here let me observe, that every sort of cookery should be done in a dress that will wash, with a clean apron over it and the hair covered up. To those who are w^ell trained by notable mothers, this hint will seem superfluous; but having lately seen a lady making pies in an old black silk dress, trimmed with crape, and every crease full of flour, I am encouraged to PREPARATION FOR COOKERY. 47 give the caution. All old silk is useful, either to ourselves or others, for linings ; but once worn to make pies or cake in, it will be so de- faced as to lose half its value. Being properly equipped for your work, with clean hands and nails, and having used your pocket handker- chief and put it away, wash your hands again, the last thing you do before putting them into the flour, and have a w^ash-bowl and towel by your side, to repeat the operation whenever needed. Wipe every utensil before you use it, keep all things covered up from flies and dust, be exact in weighing and measuring, and then your success will not be matter of chance. When you are assisting those older than yourself, it is your place to follow their direc- tions, and do things in their w^ay, although you may not wholly approve of it ; and you can be laying up lessons for yourself against the time when you can properly take the lead in these aff'airs. Where dinner parties are given under cir- cumstances requiring much additional labor on the part of the mother and daughters, it is well to choose the dishes with a view to several of them being such as can be prepared beforehand. Whatever care you delegate to another, give up entirely; for it is only in this way that you can make your deputies feel their responsibility. 48 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. Bright silver and steel, clear glass, neatly arranged saltcellars and castors, are within the reach of everybody ; and it is much more for the comfort of your guests, and the credit of your housekeeping, that your tumblers and decanters should be clean and free from lint, than that they should be elaborately cut ; that your knife-handles should be perfectly wiped, rather than of a costly material ; and so of other things ; the enjoyment of a company, at dinner, depending much more on neatness and good order, than on expensive table furniture, on a few dishes w^ell cooked, than a great variety ill served. When friends come to see you, uninvited, do the best you can to entertain them well, but make no comment or apology ; for that always sounds to your guests like a reproach for tak- ing you unawares. If you are blest with affectionate and indul- gent parents, beware how you influence them to incur expenses they can ill afford, either in dress, furniture, or entertainments. Their feelings are all on your side ; and, instead of appealing to them, you should consult their judgment and experience, and beg them not to grant your request unless they think it right and know that they can afford it. Even in those cases where young people think they are unnecessarily restricted, they are apt to ALLOWANCE. ANECDOTE. 49 be mistaken ; the ambition of parents for their children is generally as great as that of the children for themselves ; and, without a full knowledge of their father's affairs, they cannot judge of what he can afford to spend on their pleasures. Where it is necessary to study economy in every way, and fathers complain of the frequent demands made upon their purses by their daughters, it is best for both parties, that an allowance should be agreed on, and regularly paid every quarter. A girl is thus taught the value of money, and she learns to be careful how she spends it; she is led to exercise her judgment and taste, and to re- strict herself in one respect, in order to in- dulge herself in another. Without an allow- ance, young persons cannot know the pleasure of denying themselves what might seem very reasonable and proper for the sake of bestow- ing the sum thus saved in charity. There ^is no generosity in making presents to our friends, no benevolence in giving to the poor, if we are merely ^he distributors of another person's bounty, and have not one gratification the less ourselves. A feeling of responsible- ness grows out of the disbursement of a cer- tain sum which we regard as our own. I have seen the favorable operation of this sentiment among children of my acquaintance. I once told a story of distress before several E 4 50 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. boys and girls of different ages. It did not enter the heads of any of the children of rich parents present, that they had any thing to do in the case; but one little boy in less affluent circumstances, and accustomed to have an al- lowance of pocket-money, drew me aside and whispered, " How much do you think I ought to give that poor lame man you told us of '^ I have a dollar and seventy cents in my money- box." But to return from this digression ; it is dan- gerous for daughters to urge their parents to give entertainments and to make an appearance beyond what they can really afford; the conse- quence of such imprudence may be often seen. How many, who have flourished away for a time, and surprised their more cautious neighbours. have failed, or else have died, and left so lit- tle property, that their daughters have been obliged to earn their own living. In no country of the v/orld are fortunes more ^ rapidly made or more suddenly lost than in this ; and the female part of a family are pecu- liarly interested in a prudent line of conduct during prosperity, in order that a decent com- petence may be secured to them. As daugh- ters arrive at years of discretion, they should be informed of the nature and proceeds of their father's business, or of his income, if a profes- sional man ; they should know also the family ANECDOTE. 51 expenses, and the various claims upon their lather's purse, that they may regulate their own expenditure accordingly. Whatever economy it is right for you to practise, you should never be ashamed of. If at any time you find yourself trying to conceal your thrift, you had better pause and examine your motives ; for either you are possessed of that absurd weakness, a desire to appear richer than you really are, or else the piece of econo- my in question is not necessary, and therefore it is that you are ashamed of it. The most refined and luxurious people of the old world are the most careful to economize in one way, that they may have the money to spend in another ; and, as their wants are very numerous, they husband well their resources in order to gratify them all. This is only a more refined selfishness than ours in this country, which spends all more lavishly upon a few things. But such care of expenditure among the very rich puts economy into better repute there than here; and, since we follow European fash- ions to our cost, we may as well learn from the old w^orld some lessons of frugality. Two in- stances that came within my own knowledge, in our country, will show the difference between a mean saving and true economy. Miss D gave a large party and invited all her acquaintances ; she wrote all her invita- 52 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. tions herself and would not accept of any as- sistance; she shut herself up to do it, and seemed to have some mystery about it. The fact was, that she used different kinds of paper and various-sized notes, according to the sup- posed consequence or gentility of the persons invited. Some had gilt-edged, hot-pressed note-paper, of the largest size, and enclosed in another half sheet ; whilst others had only a quarter of a sheet of coarse, blue-looking letter- paper. The notes were compared ; and the con- sequence was, that some were affronted, and all despised this mean contrivance for making a show and making a saving at the same time. When the lady shut herself up to w^ite her notes, she might have known that she was doing wrong. When Miss G gives a party, she uses but one kind of paper for all whom she invites ; she takes large fine letter-paper and cuts each sheet into four notes ; and, being an economist of time as well as money, she cuts and folds her paper whilst she is talking to some visiter or listening to reading. A gay young friend who was sitting by her, whilst thus occupied, observed that she never used any thing herself but gilt-edged note-paper, and asked Miss G why she did not send for some and save herself the trouble of cutting up large paper. " Because," she replied, " that costs double the BtST THINGS. 53 money, whilst this answers every purpose ; and I take care to cut and fold paper when I should otherwise be doing nothing." Her friend then advised her to use half a sheet instead of a quarter. " That seems to me a mere waste of paper," resumed Miss G ; "it would oblige me to consume four quires of paper for my party, instead of two, and do nobody any good." Her friend smiled, and said something about a trumpery saving of only half a dollar after all ; but Miss G was not at all dis- turbed by her remarks ; she acted on principle, and cared not who knew that she chose to save half a dollar in paper, when she gave a party. That half-dollar was afterwards spent in send- ing a carriage for a friend, who could not walk and could not afford to hire a conveyance ; this no one then knew but the person obliged. If her notes were neither large nor gilt, they were all alike and gave no offence. There is in some houses such a difference between the things used every day, and those which are kept for company, that a guest can- not be invited to dine or take tea without making a revolution in the whole table furni- ture. The best dinner-set is often kept in the closet of a spare chamber ; so piles of plates and arms full of dishes are seen walking down stairs on company days, and walking up again the day after ; every knife and fork, every 54 DOMESTIC ECONOMY glass and spoon, is changed ; and this is so great a labor and so much care to the ladies of the mansion, that I have known it made a suf- ficient reason for not exercising the rites of hospitality towards a stranger who had every claim to them. Where the things in common use are so much inferior to those paraded before company, the family live in continual dread of accidental visiters, and meal-time is a season of secrecy. A ring at the door-bell produces the greatest consternation ; the mistress of the house snatches up a broken dish and puts it in the closet, tells one daughter to hide the pitcher that has lost its handle, and another to carry aw^ay the odd plates and common spoons, whilst she runs to the side-board for some bet- ter ones to supply their places. It is only a note after all, so the whole scramble was for nothing. Now would it not be far more refined and dignified, as well as more honest and comfort- able, to live better every day, and make less parade before company 1 Instead of using ordinary crockery and parts of several broken sets of different patterns, when alone, and hav- ing a very expensive set of French porcelain in the best-chamber closet for state occasions, would it not be better to have blue and white India ware all the time ? That can always be matched, and by using the same as best and common, you will never have a motley assem- GENERAL RULES. 55 blage of dishes and plates to be used up. If you can afford to have expensive table furni- ture laid by for company, you can afford to use whole dishes and handsome spoons every day, and, by so doing, you will escape a great many uncomfortable feelings, and be far more likely to be hospitable and friendly. A person should have too much self-respect to use anything when alone that is unfit for her condition, or to wish to conceal anything that belongs to it. If you think it right to continue to use any utensil of glass or china after it has been marred by some accident, do it openly, care not who sees it ; if you are ashamed to have it seen, be ashamed to use it at all; a proper self- respect requires this. The greatest hospitality is generally to be found among persons of small incomes, who are content to live according to their means, and never give any great dinners; for nothing can be further from true hospitality than the spirit in which such entertainments are gener- ally given. As a general rule for living neatly and sav- ing time, it is better to keep clean than to make clean. If you are careful not to drop crumbs of bread, or cake, on the carpet, you will es- cape an untidy room, and save the trouble of cleaning it. In working, if you make a prac- tice of putting all the ends of your thread into 56 DOMESTIC ECONOMY. a division of your work-box, kept for the pur- pose, and never let one fall on the floor, the room will look very differently at the end of the morning, from what it does when this is not attended to. A house is kept far cleaner when all the family are taught to wipe their feet thoroughly, on coming in from out of doors, than it can be where this is neglected. There are a thousand ways of keeping clean and saving labor and time, which it is well worth while to learn and practise. Mrs. Hamilton, in her admirable story of " The Cottagers of Glenburnie," gives three simple rules for the regulation of domestic af- fairs, which deserve to be remembered, and which would, if carried into practice, be the means of saving time, labor, and patience, and of making every house a " well-ordered " one. They are as follows : " 1. Do every thing in its proper time. " 2. Keep every thing to its proper use. " 3. Put every thing in its proper place." FIRST REQUISITES IN A NURSE. 57 CHAPTER IV. Nursing the Sick. First Requisites in a Nurse. — Evils of Awkwardness. — Noise to be avoided. — Cleanliness and Ventilation. — Easy Posi- tions. — Lifting a Patient. — Quiet Movements. — Night Watching. — Bed-Making. — Rubbing. — Bathing. — Blisters. — Leeches. — Little Comforts. — Behaviour to Physicians. — Diet. — Conclusion. It is the privilege of woman to be the minis- tering spirit at the couch of the sick. Of all her social duties, none is of more importance, or more frequent recurrence, than this. It recommends itself equally to the young and the old, to the selfish and the generous As there is no possession more uncertain than that of health, and since the young and vigorous are liable, as well as the aged and the infirm, to be laid upon the bed of sickness, by an epi- demic, or by imprudent exposure, or by some accident, you may be called upon at any moment to attend upon your parents, your brothers, your sisters, or your companions ; it is therefore very necessary to know how to render such services in an efficient and proper manner. Those who have warm affections, and ready sympathies, will seek this duty, rather than avoid it ; and, though long-continued efforts 58 NURSING THE SICK. are not to be expected from persons who act from impulse, many kind attentions are thus paid ; and a little knowledge as to the best manner of performing the service, so readily and generously undertaken, will add much to its value. But it is only such as act in this, as in other things, from the highest principle, who can ever be the ready, cheerful, indefatigable, persevering, and agreeable nurses, that you should aim to be, and may become by habitual self-regulation, together with a little instruc- tion as to the details of a sick chamber, which I here propose to offer. The essential qualities of a good nurse must grow out of that entire devotion of the heart to do what is right in the smallest as in the greatest affairs of life, which I have already shown to be the only foundation of virtue and happiness. No motives short of the highest are proof against the trials and temptations of a sick chamber ; the duties of a nurse require perfectly good faith and constant self-sacrifice; truth and justice are even more essential in the intercourse of the nurse and patient, than between man and man, in the more public transactions of life ; and without this strict principle, this single purpose to do right in all things, no instructions, however minute, can make good nurses. EVILS OF AWKWARDNESS. 59 Supposing, therefore, that this indispensable foundation exists, a young woman may easily acquire that knowledge of nursing, which shall render her services to the sick of the highest value. Those who have had much personal experience of illness, often learn from it how to minister to others, how to avoid the awk- ward actions from which they have themselves suffered, and how to apply the remedies which have alleviated their own pains; but those who have never been very ill themselves, and have had no experience in nursing, cannot know the various ways, in which the sufferings of pa- tients may be lessened or increased by the mode of attending upon them. One who has never endured a nervous head-ache, cannot imagine the aggravation of it, produced by a heavy step in the room, the banging or creak- ing of a door, admitting light through a crack in the shutters, asking unnecessary questions, jarring the bed on which the patient lies, and a thousand such inadvertencies as seem the veriest trifles to the well, but are serious evils to the sick. Now as every young woman ought to know how to perform the gentle offices of a good nurse, and few can be supposed to have had much experience of sickness, it is well to gain the necessary information from every source that presents itself; and if, by reading a few 60 NURSING THE SICK. pages in this book, you can learn to avoid some awkwardness, and to administer more acceptably to the sick, you will not think the time ill bestowed. A light step, quick but gentle movements, and a dexterous use of the hands, are pre- requisites in a good nurse ; they seem to be natural endowments, and to belong, in a great degree, to original temperament and conforma- tion ; but, in this as in other things, something may be done by cultivation, where nature has not done the most ; by observing the alert movements and nimble fingers of expert per- sons, you may improve your own, and avoid at least that degree of clumsiness which has been described by saying of a person, " He uses his hands, as if all his fingers were thumbs, and his thumbs legs of mutton." If the absence of all unnecessary noise is a luxury to the well, it is of the first importance to the sick ; and no one can be acceptable to them, who cannot step lightly and move gently. I have seen a nervous patient seriously incom- moded by the attendance of a friend who wore a rustling silk dress, and whose every move- ment was accompanied with so much noise, that the invalid could not bear it, and was obliged at last to beg her to change her dress, or keep out of the room. Apart from the rustling^ noise of the silk, it was an unfit NOISE TO BE AVOIDED. 61 dress for a sick room, where nothing should be worn that will not wash. But to go on with the subject of noise; anthracite coal is a fruit- ful source of annoyance in that way. Excellent as it is for keeping a steady fire with little trouble, the noises, that accompany its renova- tion twice a day, are a serious evil to the sick. The occasional falling of pieces of half-burnt coal upon the sheet-iron pan on the hearth, is grating to the feelings of some well persons, and in extreme sickness it should be provided against, as also the throwing on of fresh coal, which makes a dreadful rattling. This should be avoided by putting on every piece of coal with the fingers, having protected them by an old glove. In sweeping the hearth, too, much unnecessary clatter is often made, by holding the tongs and shovel together in one hand, as well as in other ways, too trifling to mention ; which may easily be avoided, if people are sufficiently aware how trying such noises are to the patient. Most people refrain from loud talking in the chambers of the sick ; but few are equally careful to abstain from needless whispering, which is often more trying, than a common low tone. The buzzing noise, which cannot be understood or shut out, is very fatiguing ; and rather than inflict it on a pa- tient, the nurse and her companions should keep silence. 62 NURSING THE SICK. All creaking hinges and grating locks should be immediately oiled ; and if by chance you have on a pair of shoes that creak as you walk, lose no time in changing them ; for nothing is more unpleasant to the ear of the sick or well. Folding and unfolding a news- paper that has become very dry, will make noise enough to wake a person from a light slumber ; and so will turning over the leaves of some books, if done carelessly. I have known a whole night's rest lost to a sick per- son by this simple act on the part of the watcher. Coughing, sneezing, and blov/ing the nose may be done at such unlucky moments as to cause broken slumbers. It is therefore advisable to learn how to do the voluntary acts with the least possible noise, and how to pre- vent the involuntary one by pressing the cor- ners of the eyes next the bridge of the nose. The instances I have now mentioned, are suf- ficient to show a young nurse how many ways there are of making unnecessary noises; and if her attention is once thoroughly alive to the importance of stillness to the sick, she will her- self find out others. I shall, therefore, pass next to the subject of cleanliness and ventilation. Important as it is to all to sleep in airy rooms, and to have frequent changes of linen, it is doubly so to the invalid. Fevers may be sometimes prolonged, and the recovery after CLEANLINESS AND VENTILATION. 63 them retarded, by deficiency in these particu- lars. Our sense of smell was not given us in vain, and one of its uses is to detect the im- purity that would injure us. If there is any- thing offensive in a sick room, you may be sure that it requires very careful ventilation ; to effect this, without exposing the patient to cold, is one of the arts of a nurse. Bed linen and body linen should be changed oftener in sickness than in health ; and every day, when the patient can sit up long enough to have it done, all the bedclothes should be carried out of the chamber and thoroughly aired, either out of doors or in another room, whilst the bed is shaken up and remains un- covered and the mattress is turned. When the sick person can only sit up a very short time, it is well to have two sets of pillows, blankets, and sheets, and employ them alter- nately, that one set may be airing whilst the other is in use. Bed curtains are bad things in severe sick- ness, and ought to be taken down, or turned over the rail and put quite out of the way. Where there is not so much debility as to make the effort of changing too exhausting to the invalid, no articles of clothing, worn dur- ing the day, should be retained about the per- son at night; they should be so disposed of as to be well aired by the time they are wanted 64 NURSING THE SICK. in the morning ; and, in like manner, every thing worn at night should be left otf during the day. Where the weakness of the patient forbids these changes mor^iing and evening, the same clothing must be kept on night and day; but, in such a case, it must be oftener changed for that which is w^holly clean. Personal cleanliness is so important to the sick, and daily ablutions are so necessary, that I shall quote the words of an eminent physi- cian of the present day in favor of it. " Few nurses are sufficiently scrupulous about the daily ablution of the sick. Their neglect arises from the common fear about ap- plying water to the sick for fear of their taking cold. Instead of washing the patient's hands, face, and neck, and often feet too, with warm soap and water once or twice or three times a day, which should be done, they merely daub them over with a rag dipped in hot rum or vinegar, which leaves on the skin all its impuri- ties, and gets it into a hard, dry, and most uncomfortable state. In this way I have known a lady, in very comfortable circumstances, and not, in health, deficient in person-al attentions, go for I think not less than four weeks of a chronic disease, without having her face or hands washed, except with vinegar and rum, till they became actually grim with dirt, when I accidentally discovered the cause of their CLEANLINESS AND VENTILATION. 65 strange appearance. The fear of taking cold is one of the most pernicious superstitions of the sick chamber. Vastly more hurt is done by the almost insane precautions frequently taken against it, especially among children, than is to be attributed to the thing itself. Patients are debarred from fresh air, fresh water, clean clothes, and almost from the light of heaven, lest they should take cold. Not that there is ho fear of taking cold to the sick, or that no precautions should be taken against it ; but that the danger itself is prodigiously overrated, and the means of obviating it are mistaken." Let the friend, then, who takes charge of the sick, encourage them to perform more than their usual ablutions. When too ill to use a tooth-brush, some good may be done by cleans- ing the mouth with a little swab, made by winding a piece of fine linen rag round the end of a small stick. Scraping the tongue, too, with a little instrument made for the purpose, or with a silver knife, is comfortable. All the utensils in a sick room should be kept constantly clean; and generally speaking, this will be best done by the person acting as nurse at the time ; for sending away every spoon and tumbler that has been used, to be washed in the kitchen, makes too much passing in and out of the room. You should therefore take 66 NURSING THE SICK. care to provide yourself with suitable towels and a little tub ; for washing up glass and crockery in a bowl makes too much noise. As soon as possible after using an article, wash and wipe it, that it may be ready for the next occasion. It is some comfort to the sick, to take even the most nauseous dose out of a clean vessel, and the nurse should feel that she is bound in honor to prepare every thing in the most cleanly way, never using a cup or spoon twice without washing it. A bowl of water should be always standing ready for you to wash your hands in, and this should be done before you touch either food or medicine for the patient ; in preparing either, use your fin- gers sparingly, and never put your lips to it ; but if it be necessary to taste the article, take a clean spoon to do it, and put it aside after using it. Many a poor, feeble sufferer has been disgusted with the food his stomach craved, by seeing a nurse put her lips to it whilst in preparation, or by having it presented in a smeared, sticky vessel. Always, in carrying any liquid to be taken by a person in bed, carry a towel too, to spread over the sheet, in case a drop should be spilled ; for a drop of gruel is of no consequence on a towel, but on a sheet it would give an appear- ance of untidiness to the whole bed. You should frequently straighten the bed clothes, EASY POSITIONS. 67 and beat up the pillows, and always have close at hand, a small blanket or a flannel gown, or something else suitable to throw over the pa- tient's shoulders and back, when sitting up in bed. In this position, much support is needed at the back, for which purpose bed-chairs are made ; but where they are not to be had, a small footstool, put behind the pillows and the bolster doubled, makes a very good substitute ; and so does a baby's chair, the back put down next the patient's back, and the legs up, with pil- lows before it. It also adds greatly to the ease of this position to have something at the feet, to push against ; if there be no foot-board to the bed, it should be something heavy that will keep its place, but if there be, any brace be- tween that and the feet will answer. Sitting up thus is often a great relief to a person con- fined to the bed, and would be more frequently resorted to, if those in attendance knew how to take the strain off the back, by supporting it in the manner here recommended. When a patient is too ill to sit up, whilst the bed is making, he can sometimes crawl over to a cot-bed made up, warmed, and put close beside the one he is in ; or he can be lifted from one bed to another. In shifting persons from one bed to another, an incon- venience often arises to the inexperienced, from attempting to lift the patient from the bo NURSING THE SICK. first bed to the second with his head in (h<' same direction after his removal as before. The persons lifting him, in this case, being be- tween the patient and the second bed, are in their own way. The difficulty is obviated by placing the head of the second bed toward the foot of the first, leaving ample space between the two, that is, four or five feet, and lifting the body by two or three persons, who are then to wheel round, like a platoon of soldiers, and de- posit the head of the patient toward the head of the second bed, which corresponds to the foot of the first. This fatigues and strains the weak person much less than the common method, and is a less effort to those who lift. If, for any reason, this removal from one bed to another is impracticable, it is easy to change even the under sheet, without much disturb- ance, by rolling it up from the sides tow^ards the middle, and putting the clean one on in its place, with one half rolled up likewise ; then, getting the patient over the two rolls, on the clean half, and adjusting the side which he has left. All sheets and pillow-cases should be well dried and warmed by a fire before being put on ; and if you bring in a fresh pillow from a spare chamber in cold weather, be sure to warm it well through and through, before you put it on a sick person's bed. WARMING CLOTHES. 69 In ^.onnexion with the subject of cleanliness, it may be well to observe, that when you under- take to change the clothes of a patient, and wish the clean ones to go on warm, you must hold the most important part, such as the col- lar and shoulders of a shirt, close to the fire, and when hot, fold it in, and warm the part that enfolds it ; then warm the next fold, and so on, always turning the hot part in, warming and folding till the whole is one close roll, warmed through and through ; then, fold the w^hole up in your warm apron, and carry it so to the patient. Instead of this, many persons attempt to give you a warm garment by holding it all at once a few moments before the fire, and then carrying it across the room open to the air, which cools it before it reaches you. All evacuations should be removed as soon as possible ; and if it is necessary to keep them for the inspection of the physician, let them be ar- ranged in their natural order, in some back building, or unoccupied room, with covers on the utensils, and an open window near. When examination is not necessary, a little chloride of lime and water put in the pan will prevent all unpleasant effluvia; but when it is, this must not be used in that way. The air of the room may be purified by placing any shallow vessel on the floor, with chloride of lime and water in it ; a table-spoon full of the lime to 70 NURSING THE SICK. half a pint of water, in a deep plate, answers the purpose very well. It must be renewed every twenty-four hours. A few cloves in vin- egar, kept hot in a covered vessel near the fire, and carried round the room occasionally, make an agreeable fumigation. It should be the study of all who are in at- tendance upon the sick, how to accomplish the most with the least stir and the least opening and shutting of doors; for it is very annoying to some patients, to have a person in the room continually moving about, perpetually passing from one side to the other, opening and shut- ting drawers and closets ; although it may be all done to put things away, and keep the apartment neat. This end should be accom- plished with the least bustle possible, and the least movement, even of the quietest sort; and for this purpose a good deal of thought and contrivance is requisite. Some nurses will do all that is necessary in a room with half the number of steps that others would take; and the saving is as great to her patient's nerves, as to her ov>m muscles. Never leave the room, or return to it, empty-handed ; for there will always be something to be carried out, or brought in, if you look sharp and think of every thing. The best way of svv^eeping a sick-room is on your knees, with a short-handled brush and NEATNESS AND ORDER. 71 dust-pan ; this makes the least noise and bus- tle, and is the most effectual. Be sure to let the dust you raise have time to settle before you wipe the furniture, or you will labor in vain. It adds much to the neatness of the room to have a waiter on which to set all the medicines in use, and another on which to put the eatables, with a clean napkin, or towel, thrown over each. There is a homely proverb particularly ap- plicable to the present subject, which is, that " one Iceep-dean is worth ten make-deans. " Where stillness is so desirable, every thing should be done to keep things in order. One fruitful source of stickiness and dirt would be removed in a house, if everybody would, in pouring, take care of the drop that would otherwise trickle down on the outside of the vessel. All pitchers, decanters, bottles, and phials may be kept clean by taking off the drop that follows pouring, either against the side of the vessel you pour into, or with the cork or stopper, or some such thing; on no occasion suffer it to run down, for it will make you double work in the end. It is very desirable to have hot water always ready in a sick room; and therefore a little kettle over the fire of the chamber is preferable, in cold weather, to having hot water brought up from the kitchen every time it is needed. 72 NURSING THE SICK. There should also be plenty of cold water close at hand, and a supply of fuel within reach. There is generally a good deal to be done before a patient settles for the night, and there- fore the preparations should be begun in good season, that all may be done and the room still at an early hour. Sick persons are often made feverish, and their night's rest spoiled, by not being settled early. They may have felt drow- sy and inclined to sleep at nine or ten, but the continual passing in and out of the room; stir- ring the fire, whispering, &c., have so disturbed them, that all inclination to sleep has passed away by ten or eleven o'clock, and a restless night has been the consequence. Nurses, and more particularly perhaps watch- ers, often do injury by an over-anxious desire to be attentive to the sick. They burden them by officious and unnecessary attentions. They wake them from sleep to ask them if they want anything. They urge them every few minutes to take a little drink or nourishment. In gen- eral, in acute diseases, this fault is more in- jurious than the opposite, of attending to them too little. It is rarely proper to wake a pa- tient for anything; and it should never be done without asking the physician if it be proper. If you are a watcher for the night . only, be very particular to get the physician's directions from some competent person, and write them BED-MAKING. 73 down, that there may be no mistake about the medicine, or food, to be given through the night. If you have no watch, ask for one, that you may administer things at the right hour exactly. A watch with black figures on a white ground is preferable to a gold-faced one. Look carefully round the room and see that you have everything necessary for the patient, before the family retires for the night. Always have a second lamp in the room, in case one fails. Do not refuse all eatables for yourself, but accept of some plain food to be eaten in the night, as it partly supplies the place of sleep, and will aid you in keeping awake. When you watch in cold weather, take care to be warmly dressed, for you will otherwise feel very chilly before the night is over, and may take cold. Some young persons think it generous and spirited to take no care of themselves, when they are in attendance upon others ; but this is a great mistake. It is their duty to take all the care they can of their own health, without neglecting their patient. Every young lady should know how to make a bed in the best possible manner ; for, if she is so situated as not to be in the good habit of making her own bed daily, she may be called upon to do it for a sick friend, and find herself incapable of such a simple act of kindness from ignorance and inexpertness. There is an art 74 NURSING THE SICK. in shaking up a bed ; if done in the best way, it requires less strength, and the feathers are more thoroughly stirred up with half the ex- ertion. Much of a person's comfort, when confined to a bed, depends on having plenty of feathers under the head and shoulders, and on the under sheet being well tucked in sep- arately from the upper. It adds much to cleanliness and comfort, to have a thin -blanket always put on next the bed beneath the under sheet. Bolster-cases, too, are far more com- fortable than the sheet put over the bolster. A bed made square and even, with all the bed- clothes put on straight and well, gives an air of neatness to a chamber, which it can never have when the bed is ill made. When a patient requires dry rubbing with flannel or crash, you will find mittens, made of either material, and tied on at your wrists, far better than a cloth which you must hold and rub with at the same time. You can run up a mitten in one minute, wdth a coarse needle and thread, and, with this tied on, you have all your strength to bestow in rubbing, instead of using any of it in holding and adjusting a towel, or piece of flannel. The surface, too, is more even and agreeable to the patient. You should rub one way, not backwards and forwards, and be very careful not to injure the skin. BATHING. BLISTERS. 75 When hot fomentations are needed, young and tender hands are incapable of wringing the flannel out, hot enough to do much good ; but, where a young nurse must attempt it, she can help the matter by wetting the flannel but little, heating it with the liquid, and then fold- ing it in a cool towel and wringing both to- gether. When the feet of a patient are to be bathed in warm water, wrap a blanket or woollen gown round the tub and over the knees to keep in the steam. Have a pair of woollen socks and two coarse towels heating by the fire. Add hot water to the tub as it cools. When the feet have been bathed long enough, take one of the towels heated very hot, and receive one foot into it, wrap it round the foot to dry all the moisture, then give it a good rubbing, and put on a warm sock; do the same with the other foot, and this will make the blood circu- late quickly and do as much good as the warm water. Feverish patients may be greatly re- freshed by sponging the face, hands, and feet with tepid water. I have known children that had been restless with fever fall into a sweet sleep, whilst this was doing. In dressing blisters, have your ointment spread thinly on both sides of a linen rag rather larger than the blister, and lay this on a cloth (which may be cotton or linen) folded 76 NURSING THE SICK. many times ; then, with a pair of sharp-pointed scissors in one hand, and a cloth in the other, make an aperture in the lowest part of the bag of waters, and another little hole above to give it vent. Take away all that runs free- ly, but do not trouble the patient, and keep the blistered place exposed to the air, by try- ing to empty every drop ; it will run off by degrees into the cloths. You should break the raised skin as little as possible. This dressing should be frequently renewed at first, or the discharge may cause the rag to stick, and that will disturb the loose skin. If you have been with persons who were foolish enough to feel any disgust at leeches, do not be infected by their folly ; but reason yourself into a more rational state of mind. Look at them as a curious piece of mechanism ; remember, that although their office is an un- pleasant one to our imagination, it is their proper calling, and that when they come to us from the apothecary, they are perfectly clean though slippery to the touch. Their ornamen- tal stripes should recommend them even to the eye, and their valuable services to our feelings. To make them take hold in the very spot required, you have only to take a piece of blot- ting-paper and cut small holes in it where you wish them to bite ; lay this over the place, and put the leeches on the paper. Not liking the LEECHES. LITTLE COMFORTS. 77 surface of the paper, they readily take hold of the skin, where it appears through the holes, and much trouble is thus saved. When they are filled, they will let go their hold, and you have only to put them on a deep plate, and sprinkle a little salt on their heads, and they will clear themselves of blood ; then wash them in water with the chill off, and put them away in clean cold water. A sponge and warm water should be used, to encourage the bleeding of the patient, as long as this is necessary; when it is sufficient, squeeze the sponge dry and keep wiping the bitten places with it. In most cases, the blood soon ceases to flow ; when the bleeding is too great, and you wish to stop it, a little lint w^ill some- times suffice, or the nap ofl* a hat. But if that does not answer, shavings of leather will prove an excellent styptic ; they must be applied in a bunch, and held on tight at first. Such alarming consequences have followed from leech-bites, that I have ascertained from an experienced physician the best method of stopping their bleeding ; he says, " The only method which I have found infallible, except tying them with a ligature, which a nurse could not do, is to roll up a little cotton, or lint, or hat fur into a very small and hard ball, as large as a small shot, which is to be pushed, with the end of a knitting-needle or bodkin, directly into the hole 78 NURSING THE SICK. made by the leech, so as to fill up the cavity entirely and thus produce a compression on its sides." When persons are confined a long while to their beds, it is a great relief to sit up, sup- ported at the back as already described ; and an additional comfort in this position is a short flannel gown to protect the part above the bed- clothes, as this can be worn without any of that incumbrance occasioned by a long gown so used. The little cushions now made of India-rubber cloth, and inflated with air, are very useful in sickness ; and, when these cannot be had, small bags filled with feathers answer nearly the same purpose. When a patient is so weak as to walk with difficulty, you may place a rocking-chair close to the bed, for him to sit in when he gets up ; and then draw it, with him in it, to the fire. Some nurses forget to warm the shoes of the invalid, which is essential in cold weather. A rocking-chair tipped back very far, and sup- ported in that position by a block of wood under the rockers, gives an easy posture to a weak person. In all your intercourse with a physician, remember that his w^hole course of study and practice leads him to consider the human body as a curiously complicated machine, all the . BEHAVIOUR TO PHYSICIANS. 79 parts of which are familiar to him, and equally honorable in his view ; and that you will best consult your own delicacy, and secure his re- spect, by speaking of the different functions with the same candor and composure. Answer all the questions asked you freely and directly ; and if you cultivate right views of the wonder- ful structure of the body, you w^ill be as willing to speak to a physician of the bowels as the brains of your patient. The real indelicacy is in that state of embarrassment and difficulty which some feel in mentioning such things where it is necessary and proper to do it ; thus calling a person's attention to the sub- ject under a more degrading view of it, than that taken by the physician or philosopher. The person who acts as nurse should take care to be present during the doctor's visit to the patient, and should help the sick person to give an account of himself. In order to do this well, it is best to keep minutes, through the day and night, of what occurs between the physician's visits. Very short and hastily written notes will be a great assistance to your memory ; and, with these before you, you will be able to give a full and exact report ; whereas, without such aid, you might omit to mention some symptom which would materially affect the treatment of the case. In like man- ner, it is best not to trust entirely to memory 80 NURSING THE SICK. in following the physician's directions, but to take minutes, especially of the more essential particulars, that you may be sure not to fail. Exactness and punctuality in administering the medicine prescribed is all-important ; and no one is fit to take care of the sick, who does not make a point of conscience of it. In measuring a dose, you should be scrupulously exact, particularly where drops are to be count- ed. In most cases, it is right to shake a phial before you begin to pour out from it ; where this is to be avoided, there will generally be directions to that effect. First shake the phial well, with your finger on the cork, lest it should fly out. When the stopper is thus wet, you can with it wet the edge of the phial, w^hich should always be done before dropping any thing from it ; else the first drop must be count- ed as two. Then have ready a clean silver spoon, into which the drops may fall, so that if you miscount, or suffer it to run instead of dropping, you may pour it back into the phial and try again. If you are directed to give a tea-spoonful of any thing, show the spoon to the physician and ask if it is to be heaping full, or only even full, as there is a material difference in the size of spoons, and in the manner of filling them. There should always be a watch, or time- piece of some sort, in or near a sick room, as DIET. 81 punctuality in giving medicine is of great im- portance. The delay of half an hour may be a serious evil, not only on account of that po- tion being withheld, but because it may bring two doses so near together as to render their effect different from what was intended. If anything is left to the nurse's judgment by the physician, she must of course exercise it to the best of her ability; but where the di- rections are positive, she will find it safest to abide by them very literally. It is because young women are less apt to act upon their own responsibility than those who have great experience in nursing, that some physicians prefer the attendance of girls between twenty and twenty-five, in any case of dangerous sick- ness to that of practised nurses who are more opinionated. Where abstinence is recommended, and yet the case is one in which there is no want of appetite, the friend in attendance is apt to league with the patient against the physician, and to encourage his swerving from the pre- scribed course. This is very wrong ; for where one person suffers from abstinence in sickness, ten are made w^orse by taking food, when it cannot be properly digested. You should be as particular in getting the physician's direc- tions about diet, as about medicine, and abide by them as faithfully. If the person under 82 NURSING THE SICK. your charge insists on a deviation from the prescribed rule, make a point of informing the physician. It is an injustice to him to vary from his directions, but it is doubly so to do it without telling him of it. Want of good faith on the part of professed nurses towards physicians is almost prover- bial. They have no conscience about it ; they consider it no harm to give false information, to mislead and deceive a medical man about important particulars, especially about the diet of the patient. They are governed by no prin- ciple ; they do not consider it a moral duty to tell the whole truth ; they would stare, and so would patients too, if they were told that it was an offence against good morals, to tell a practical lie to the doctor. You ought to feel that there must be no concealments, no tricks, no half-told tale ; but that the medical man must know the whole ; and that you are moral- ly bound to this course. Some physicians are better acquainted than others with a number of simple preparations, suited to a low diet. Where a sufficient variety is not named, it will be well for you to suggest several kinds for his approval, and then vary the diet accordingly ; for every woman should know how to make spoon-meats for the sick in the most wholesome and most palatable way ; and, as books on cookery seldom give sufficient DIET. 83 directions on this head, I will subjoin a few- recipes for the use of young nurses. Water-gruel. — First in importance comes water-gruel, which a writer on health calls, "the king of spoon-meats," and "the queen of soups," saying " it gratifies nature beyond all others." Dr. Franklin's favorite breakfast was a bowl of warm gruel in which there was a small piece of butter and some toasted bread and nutmeg. This, though the simplest of all preparations, is often ill made, and therefore I recommend every woman to make a point of learning to do it in the best manner. To make good gruel, four things are necessary; the ves- sel, in which it is made, must be thoroughly clean and free from grease, the meal must be well sifted, it must be well mixed so as to be free from lumps, and then it must be well boiled. Ask your invalid whether he prefers it thick or thin ; if the latter, mix together by degrees one table spoonful of Indian or oat meal with three of cold water ; if the former, mix two spoonfuls of meal. Have ready a pint of boiling water in a skillet or saucepan ; pour this, by degrees, to the mixture in the bowl ; return the whole into the skillet ; put it on the fire and stir it till it boils, to prevent the meal from settling and burning at the bottom of the vessel. Let it boil half an hour ; skim it, and season it lightly with salt, as it is easy to add 84 NURSING THE SICK. more, and a grain too much may spoil it. In old times, no one ever thought of making gruel without seasoning it with wine, and sugar, and nutmeg ; but now that such condiments are prohibited, it is more than ever important, to know how to prepare plain water-gruel in the best way. Where milk is not forbidden, a small tea-cupful added to a pint of gruel, after it is made, and boiled up once in it, is a great improvement. Some invalids are better pleased with gruel served up in a tumbler, set on a small plate, with a tea-spoon beside it, than when presented in a bowl with a large spoon. But this is a matter of fancy. MiLK-poRRiDGE. — This is made nearly in the same way as gruel, only using half flour and half Indian meal, and half milk instead of wa- ter. The whole cooking of the meal and flour should be done with water, and the milk added afterwards and boiled up once. Beef-tea. — Take a piece of lean but juicy beef, wash it nicely and cut it up into pieces about an inch square ; put these into a wide- mouthed bottle and cork it up closely; then set the bottle into a pan of water and boil it for an hour, or more if you have time. In this way you will get the pure juice of the meat, undiluted by any water, and a smaller quantity will answer the purpose of nourishment. DIET. 85 Pearl Sago. — When a sick person is tired of slops, pearl sago, boiled in water till it cools to a jelly, may be used ; it may be eaten with powdered loaf-sugar and a little cream. Arrowroot. — A tumbler full of this may be made in two minutes, if you have boiling water at hand. Take a small bowl and put in it a tea-spoonful of the powdered arrowroot, mois- ten it with a table-spoonful of cold water, rub it smooth, add another of warm water, and stir it till it is perfectly free from grains ; then pour on boiling water, stirring it all the time, till it changes from a thick to a transparent substance; a little lemon juice and sugar makes this a delicious draught of thickened lemonade. When prepared in the bowl, pour it into a tumbler without spilling a drop on the outside, and put it on a little plate and serve it. Arrow- root prepared with milk instead of water is more substantial food, and must be seasoned with salt. It may be made as thick as blanc- mange, and eaten cold with cream and sugar. Calves-foot blancmange. Put a set of calves feet, nicely cleaned and washed, into four quarts of water, and reduce it by boiling to one quart ; strain it and set it by to cool. When cold, scrape off all the fat, cut it out of the bowl avoiding the settlings at the bottom, and put to it a quart of new milk with sugar to taste, and boil it a few minutes. If you wish to flavor H 86 NURSING THE SICK. It with Cinnamon or lemon-peel, do it before boiling ; if with rose-water or peach-water, do it after. When boiled ten minutes, strain it through a fine sieve into a pitcher, and stir it till it cools. When only blood-warm, put it into moulds that have just been wet in cold water, and let it harden. This is a good dish for the sick or well. In connexion with the duties belonging to attendance on the sick, we may consider those which belong to the sick persons them- selves. In waiting upon a number of different invalids, you will learn, by what troubled you in their behaviour, what to avoid doing when you are so attended yourself; but if it has been your lot to w^ait only upon the consider- ate, disinterested, and patient sufferer, you may unconsciously become a very troublesome invalid yourself. Whatever infirmities of temper are betrayed by the sick, consider yourself bound by the charities of your office, as nurse, to bear them patiently, and never to speak of them. The only legitimate use to be made of them is that of learning to avoid similar faults, when you are yourself equally tempted. I cannot close this chapter on nursing, with- out begging my young friends to bear in mind, when waiting upon the sick, that they are im- mortals ministering to immortals j and though CONCLUSION. 87 this frail tenement of clay is the special object of attention, let not the more important part be forgotten or neglected. Be alive to every word, look, or gesture, that indicates the state of the patient's soul ; and if he shows any in- clination for communion on spiritual subjects, encourage it by your ready comprehension and sympathy. Let your acquaintance with the Bible, and other religious books, be rendered serviceable to your charge. Suffer not your own very natural diffidence on such subjects to throw a restraint over your manner, unfavor- able to confidence ; but do violence to your own reserve, rather than repress the feelings which may be struggling for utterance in an- other. 88 BEHAVIOUR OF THE SICK. CHAPTER V. Behaviour of the Sick. Self-control. — Consideration of Others. — Attention. — Taking Medicine. — Resignation. Some persons think, that when they are ill enough to require a physician and watchers, they may be excused from all effort at self- government, and all consideration for others ; that they may be as selfish and exacting as they please; that their sufferings give them a right to tax everybody around them, to the utmost of their patience and their strength. Judging, at least, from the behaviour of some invalids, one might suppose they had deliber- ately come to these conclusions. Whoever has attended upon a patient of this sort, would learn better, by finding how much the trials of nursing are increased by such unreasonable conduct. So far from being excused, by illness, from self-command in trifles, it is as necessary to our own comfort and recovery, as to the allevia- tion of our friends. Nothing is more increased by indulgence, than a fretful complaining mood; unnecessary exclamations of pain or uneasi- ness, increase rather than mitigate suffering By keeping our attention fixed upon our own CONSIDERATION OF OTHERS. 89 sensations, they have more power over us, than when we disregard them as much as possible ; and nothing will help us to turn our mind from them more, than a just consideration of others, and a proper appreciation of all they are doing: ^or us. By attention to the ease of those about us, we may save them some fatigue, and avoid what I have often seen done, namely, asking for some trifle the very moment that the poor nurse drops into a chair to rest her weary limbs. When the feet are tender w^ith much standing, and the legs and back ache, the first few moments after sitting down this weariness is felt to the utmost degree, and to rise up again directly is a great eff^ort. Think of all you want, while your attendant is mov- ing about ; but when she seats herself, call not upon her for anything you can do without. The observance of this single rule would save much fatigue to those who wait upon the sick. A person, who, from habitual self-discipline, is capable of fixing his attention, at will, on any given subject, has great advantages in sickness; for this control of mind enables a patient, when sufl'ering considerable pain, to withdraw his attention from his own sensa- tions, and by fixing it upon some subject of thought, or the contents of a book, to become far less sensible of bodily suffering; and when 11^ 90 BEHAVIOUR OF THE SICK. the pain begins to abate, he will be sooner aware of it, than he would, if attending wholly to his sensations. Objecting to take medicine because it tastes badly, is so childish, that I should think it un- necessary to allude to it here, if I had not seen it made a source of trouble and vexation, by persons who were old enough to be ashamed of such infantile weakness. The sooner you swallow a disagreeable dose, the better; for delay only increases your repugnance, and by giving the nerves of the stomach time to come into sympathy with the brain, there is a nausea produced, which may render vain your best efforts to retain it. Docility to your physician and those who have the care of you, is one of the first duties of the sick, and has already been sufficiently recommended in the preceding chapter. Some invalids wish to eat before they have any appetite, and are surprised to find that their food does not taste as they expected it would. Not suspecting that the fault is in themselves, they think the cookery is wrong; and so they have a variety of things made, hoping to relish some one of them, and thus give a great deal of unnecessary trouble.' A more reasonable patient says, " When I am hungry, a cracker, or water-gruel, will taste well to me ; and till then, T had better not eat." RESIGNATION. 91 The views which you secretly take of your illness, will materially affect your conduct under it, as well as your recovery. If you look only at second causes, and fret and repine over the circumstances which were the immediate agents in bringing on your malady, you will bear it with far less patience and cheerfulness, than you would, if you saw in it the operation of wise laws, and the arrangements of a wise Providence. Resignation under suffering is a virtue which, in a remarkable degree, brings its own reward. The evil to which we are reconciled loses half its power over us. There is nothing like a filial trust in God, for harmonizing the feelings and soothing the irritable nerves of the invalid; it often does more than medicine for his recovery. 92 DRESS. CHAPTER VI. Dress, Human Clothing left to Man's Reason and Ingenuity. — Ex- travagances of Costume. — Hoops. — Revolutions in Dress. — English and French Fashions. — Climate. — Standard of Beauty. — Effects of Good Taste. — A curious Comparison. — Restrictions in Dress. — Appropriateness essential to Beauty. — Taste favorable to Economy. — Love of Finery. — Dress a Test of Character. — Needle-work. — Darning Stockings. — Care to be taken of Clothes. — Neat Habits. — Punctuality. — Conduct to Work- women. — Borrowing. — Accidental Ex- changes. — Duty of cultivated Women. — Modern Examples. One of the distinctions between the rational and irrational part of God's creatures, is, that whilst the latter are clothed, by his wisdom, in the manner best suited to their inode of life, the former are left to their own guidance, in everything that relates to the covering of the body. It would seem that the gift of reason was intended to be a sufficient guide in the matter ; and, all sorts of materials being fur- nished by the bounty of Providence, and their various properties and modes of adaptation beautifully exhibited in the clothing of animals, human beings were expected to exercise their reason and their ingenuity, in turning all these things to the best account. As far as ingenuity goes, man has certainly fulfilled his destiny; the endless variety of EXTRAVAGANCES OF COSTUME. 93 fabrics for covering the body, and the diversity of shapes in which they are made up, show that his fertility of invention is fully equal to the task devolved upon him. Whether his reason is as successfully employed, in adapting his clothing to the necessities of his body, may be questioned, as long as we see people crippled by tight shoes and boots, rendered stiff-necked by high and hard stocks, and youthful forms distorted, and the animal functions, necessary to life and health, impeded by tight lacing In no way has civilized man played more fantastic tricks, and sacrificed his reason more entirely to folly, than in the matter of dress. The clumsy and inconvenient garments of the savage, are attributed to his ignorance of domestic arts ; but what can be said in excuse for civilized man, when he wears shoes that project half a yard beyond his feet, or ex- changes his own locks for an enormous periwig, filled with powder and pomatum ; when the graceful motion of a lady's head is sacrificed to the stiff movements necessary in balancing a tower of linen and wire, half a yard high, with draperies that flow from the top of it to the floor; when the wavy lines of a female form are disguised under a stiff circle of whalebone, which imprisons the body from the hips up- ward, and a buckram cage so surrounds the lower limbs, that she can with difficulty walk 94 DRESS. or sit. Some false standard of beauty, invented perhaps to conceal deformity, is set up, and then the very bones and muscles of the perfect body must be made to conform to it. When this is carried so far as it is in the case of small feet in China, its absurdity strikes us at once ; but we may find, nearer home, instances of a standard as false, and consequences even more fatal to health and happiness, than the little feet of the Chinese. The history of national costume, in the civil- ized countries of Europe, shows, that for many centuries the progress of art and manufactures only led to greater extravagances in dress, and more preposterous fashions. One enormity was only displaced to make way for its opposite extreme, as in the case of the peaked-toed shoes already mentioned ; these were followed by shoes of only the length of the foot, but as broad as they were long At one time men's coats were so short that they resembled boy's jackets of the present day, and soon after they were so long and full, that they looked like female attire. Women's sleeves were sometimes made so long, that they were tied in knots, to prevent the wearer from treading on them ; and nine yards of cloth was a moderate quantity for each sleeve ; then they were made as tight as the skin, and reach- ed no farther than the elbow. It would seem, HOOPS. 95 that for centuries the whole ingenuity of a nation was taxed to invent monstrous forms of clothing, as well as inconvenient and useless appendages, and that comfort and ease were the things most of all to be avoided in dress. About the middle of the sixteenth century, stiff stays and hoops were first introduced into England; and though nothing could be more uncomfortable to the feelings, or a greater out- rage upon taste and nature, they continued in fashion, except for a short period during the reign of Charles the Second, nearly two hundred years. The hoop often changed its shape and size, but was never discarded till some time after the accession of George the Third ; and, as the fashion of court dresses is fixed at the com- mencement of a reign, and continues unchanged to its close, the long reign of that monarch caused the modes of 1760 to be witnessed in the beginning of the nineteenth century. I have seen the ladies, going to attend a levee at St. James' palace, dressed in enormous hoop- petticoats, and have heard them say that it re- quired great practice to move in them with any grace, and to avoid awkward rencontres, and an involuntary exhibition of legs from under this machinery. These hoops were constructed of whalebone and millinet, of an oval shape, the length of the oval being across the figure from hip to hip, and of the same size at top as at 96 DRESS, bottom. That part which extended beyond the waist on either side, was rounded off and covered in with ribs of whalebone and miilinet, leaving a hole in the middle, through which came the living puppet that was to carry this load. When the waists were worn short, the hoop was lifted up till it interfered sadly with the elbows, and obliged the wearer to carry her arms in a very constrained attitude before it. Over such a machine were displayed the rich materials of the court dress. Looking upon this grotesque contrivance, after the general fashion of hoops had passed away, and when they were gazed after, on gala days only, as a raree-show, it was difficult to imagine rational beings reconciled to them, and considering them an indispensable part of female attire, or to believe that they were once so universal in London, that maid-servants were seen washing down the door steps in hoop-petticoats ! Yet such w^as actually the case, before they were left off by the higher classes. This reflection upon past fashions should make us look with jealous eyes on those which prevail in our day, in order to discover whether we are not in the practice of something, which will appear equally absurd to future genera- tions. The French nation has long been the arbiter REVOLUTIONS IN DRESS. 97 of fashion for most civilized countries and the political revolution of the last century was ac- companied by a revolution in dress, almost as signal; for it banished wigs and buckles, pow- der and pomatum, stiff stays and full petti- coats, long waists, and high-heeled shoes. One extreme led to another, and the ladies who had been encased in whalebone, buckram, and abundance of quilted petticoats, stepped forth as Grecian goddesses, without any cor- sets, any petticoats, any fulness to their gar- ments, or any heels to their shoes. White muslin dresses of the scantiest dimensions, drawn closely round the figure, with the short- est possible waists, and not a fold or a plait that could form any drapery, were the order of the day in France, and quickly spread into England and America. Only look at the por- traits of females, painted twenty-five or thirty years ago, or the historical pictures of that period, such, for instance, as the coronation of Napoleon, and you will be so shocked at the tight sleeves, short waists, and narrow skirts of the women, that it will be difficult to believe that such a style of dress ever looked well. I remember when full-grown women wore dresses only a yard and a half wide at bottom, and sloped away at top to the size of the waist, so that it was difficult for a lady to step across a gutter, or into a carriage, without a great I 7 98 DRESS. exposure of silken hose, or running the risk of splitting her skirts. The belt, too, was passed across the bosom, so as to press very injuri- ously upon it, and actually rode upon the shoulder-blades behind. The old ladies of that day, who remembered with partiality the flowing draperies and full petticoats they had worn in youth, used to groan over their degenerate daughters, and say that their scanty dresses made them look as if they were stuffed into bolster-cases. Now that both these fashions are passed away, we can form an impartial judgment of each, as we see them in pictures ; and, cer- tainly, with the exception of the hoop, the fashions before the French Revolution were more dignified, decorous, and graceful, than those which immediately succeeded it. Those of the present day appear to me to hit the happy medium between both, and to unite the best part of each. If our ladies w^ould cease to compress the waist as much as they now do, and abate something in the size of their sleeves, they need not fear the criticisms of posterity. English ladies have never adopted the fash- ions of France so implicitly as the American. They always modify them in a greater or less degree, to suit themselves, and the climate of the country. A first-rate London dress-maker goes to Paris tw^ice a year for her fashions ; ENGLISH AND FRENCH FASHIONS. 99 but there she sees some things which she li:novvs will not accord with English notions, and there- fore she passes them by, and only brings over what she thinks will suit her more sober coun- trywomen. At this distance from the fountain of taste, our dress-makers cannot exercise the same discretion ; they, therefore, are obliged to trust to agents, and to rely on prints repre- senting the fashions. The Parisians, who fur- nish garments made to order for the Americans, are known to send out such extravagant speci- mens, as ladies of bon ton * would not wear there; yet these are implicitly adopted here, as the reigning mode. There is some con- venience in having a standard of fashion that all may conform to ; the eye soon becomes reconciled to whatever is universally w^orn ; but we ought to mistrust all extravagant French models, and, by modifying our copies of them, escape being made ridiculous, at the will and pleasure of 2i marchand dcs modes or a Parisian dress-maker. The ladies of Phila- delphia are the best dressed in the United States ; and may not this be attributable to the influence of the Quaker and the French population of that city ? the one tending to moderation from principle, the other from taste. * This word means good taste, and fashion, and gen tility, all united. 100 DRESS. There is one thing which is never sufficient- ly taken into account in the fashions of this country, and that is climate. Receiving our models from the more equable temperature of France, they are often unsuited to the scorch- ing suns of our summers, and the severe frosts of our winters. The English ladies set us a good example in this respect ; they always accommodate their fashions to the dripping skies of their moist climate, and the chilliness produced by it ; accordingly there never has been a winter for thirty years^ when muffs were not generally worn. Broadcloth suits their drizzling weather particularly well, and therefore habits made of it, and coats and cloaks to wear in carriages, are always in use. Beaver hats, for riding on horseback, are al- ways in fashion for the same reason ; and so are coarse straw bonnets, particularly in the country, for an undress, and thick leather shoes for walking through the mud. The most deli- cately bred fine lady in the land puts on cotton stockings and thick shoes to walk out for ex- ercise, and would think it very unlady-like not to be so provided ; and on more dressy occa- sions, when she wears silk hose, she would on no account go out in cold weather without warm shoes, either kid lined with fur, or quilt- ed silk shoes foxed with leather. To walk out, as our young ladies do, in cold and wet weather, STANDARD OF BEAUTY. 101 with thin-soled prunella or kid shoes, would seem to them very vulgar ; as betraying a want of suitableness, only to be accounted for by supposing the individual to be unable to provide herself with better. The influence of fashion is so strong in cor- rupting the eye, and perverting the taste, that it has led some persons to doubt the existence of any true standard of beauty, as applicable to costume ; but as long as some forms of dress, when out of fashion, look better to us than others, w^e may fairly conclude that there are some immutable principles of taste con- nected with the subject, and that those articles which we admire, after they have ceased to be the reigning mode, conform in some degree to true taste. Such, for instance, is the simple cap, called after the most beautiful and most unfortunate of Queens. When the prevailing fashions are most opposed to the flat shape of the Mary-Queen-of-Scots cap, it still appears to us beautiful; and when adopted by a modern fine lady, as her costume in a portrait, or her dress at a masquerade ball, it is pronounced highly becoming. Now this is not the case with the monstrous constructions of gauze, ribbon, and w4re, that w^ere called caps fifty years ago ; nor with any of those head-dresses, which outrage common sense, and set all pro- portion at defiance. As soon as the enormous 102 DRESS. horse-hair cushions, over which the locks were combed and plastered with powder and poma- tum, went out of fashion, that style of head- dress was condemned as hideous. The occasional triumph of good taste over fashion, is shown by the frequent return of pretty shapes into fashion. Every few years, the Scottish Queen's cap is brought into vogue; and, were it not for the insatiable love of novelty, it would never be wholly laid aside. The surplice waist and Grecian boddice have an inherent beauty in them, which has caused their frequent revival, and has now kept them in fashion for several years. Now if there are principles of true taste in- volved in the mysteries of a lady's toilette, is not the study of them worthy of a refined and intellectual being; and would not her time and thoughts be better spent, in conforming her style of dress to them, than in eagerly follow- ing every change of the mode, dictated by the love of novelty, apart from real beauty ? I do not mean by this to recommend singu- larity of dress, and a wide departure from the prevailing mode ; far from it, singularity is to be avoided, and she is best dressed whose costume presents an agreeable whole, without anything that can be remarked. Dr. Johnson once praised a lady's appearance by saying she was so perfectly well dressed, he could not EFFECTS OF GOOD TASTE. 103 recollect anything she had on. I would have young people of cultivated minds, look at every- thing with an eye of taste, and, judging of the merits of a certain form of garment, apart from the charm of fashion, so modify their compli- ance with the reigning mode as not to sacrifice to it their sense of beauty. Mere fashion should never be allowed to triumph over com- mon sense, or good taste, but be kept in check by both. Thus, when your dress-maker recom- mends you to have your skirt so long as nearly to touch the floor, let common sense interfere, and prevent your compliance with a fashion so evidently inconvenient; and when, a few months afterwards, you are urged to let her make it so short, as not to reach the ankle- bone, let good taste arrest her scissors, and plead for a few inches more, for the love of grace, if not of modesty. When, at midsummer, your milliner shows you the last Paris fashion in a bonnet, and you see that what ought to shelter the face from the sun, is so formed as to leave it entirely exposed, do not lend your countenance to any- thing so irrational ; but call up your ingenuity to invent a modification of it, which shall com- bine shelter with beauty. In this country, where there are no dashing duchesses and elegant countesses to lead the ton, any lady of sense and taste may set a 104 DRESS. pretty fashion, and thus do her friends and neighbours an acceptable service. A pure taste in dress may be gratified at a small expense; for it does not depend on the costliness of the materials employed, but on the just proportions observed in the forms, and an harmonious arrangement of colors. Dr. Spurzheim observed, that the American ladies were deficient in the organ of color, and said, that, on landing in New York, he was shocked to see ladies wearing indiscriminately all the colors of the rainbow, without regard to their complexions, or the season of the year, and often with pink, blue, and yellow on at the same time. In nothing is the taste of Parisian dames more conspicuous, than in the skilful selection of colors ; and when a taste for the fine arts is more diffused in this country, we shall not see our belles with pink ribbons on their bonnets, and blue shawls on their shoulders, while their hands display yellow gloves and green bogs. Nor shall we witness sallow complex- ions contrasted with sky-blue, nor flushed cheeks surrounded by the hues of the rose, nor pale ones made to appear more colorless by green linings. All these things will, in time, be better understood, when the cultivated and refined portion of society shall have learned to regard dress less as a matter to be taken on A CURIOUS COMPARISON. 105 trust from foreign dealers in finery, than as an individual accomplishment, and to consider, that their appearance in the world depends more on their own good taste, than the length of their fathers' purses. I have seen two young ladies, of equal pre- tensions to personal beauty, one arrayed in a French embroidered pelerine that cost twenty- five dollars, the other with one made of plain cambric, edged with embroidery, that cost two dollars ; and any person, who had an eye for beautiful forms, would have preferred the ap- pearance of the latter, because the proportions of this lady's cape and figure were suited to each other ; whereas, the other had chosen a cape so much too wide for her shoulders, that it hung down in a dowdy style, and she seemed encumbered by her finery. Conversing one evening, at a brilliant party, in one of our southern cities, with an in- genious gentleman, who had devoted much time to the fine arts, having studied architec- ture and practised modelling, and was also a great observer of female attire, I was amused to hear him compare the different modes of dress to the different styles of architecture. When he saw a lady dressed with great simplicity and her hair naturally arranged, he called that style of dress Grecian. One, more elaborately attired, but still in good taste, reminded him 106 DRESS. of the ancient Roman style. A greater profu- sion of ornament, and less exact proportions, were compared to the Roman architecture of later times, when a spurious taste prevailed. Anything cumbrous, however rich in material, or grand in its form, was called Gothic. And when a lady approached us, covered with finery, that looked as if it had been showered upon her from a band-box held over her head, and had stuck just where it could, he exclaimed, " Here is a specimen of the florid Gothic." He never could bear to see bows that tied nothing, rows of buttons that fastened nothing, and little appendages that had no real or ap- parent use. He insisted that, in dress, as in architecture, all beauty ivas founded in utility, and asked me if I did not think that columns which supported nothing would look very badly. He said he liked to see borders to room-paper, because it hid the terminating edge, and he liked to see ladies' gowns trimm.ed round the bottom of the skirt, because it hid the hem, and was a handsome finish to the figure ; " but," he continued, " inasmuch as I should condemn the taste that made a paper bordering so wide as to cover.- half the walls, so do I denounce the fash%n of trimmings which extend half way up the skirt. It has no longer the effect of a border ; it is an overload A CURIOUS COMPARISON. 107 of ornament, cuts up the figure, and spoils any- dress." At the time this conversation occurred, full shoulder-caps over long tight sleeves, and moderately full short sleeves, were worn ; on being asked if he approved of them, he said he did. " The play of the shoulder requires room in the sleeve, and, there being that reason for some fulness, there is no objection to its being increased, so as to form an ornament." So much for the criticisms of a man of taste on the fashions of fourteen years ago ! If he had lived to see the exaggerations of the pres- ent day, even his command of language would have been taxed, to find terms of reprobation sufficiently strong for a leg of mutton or a balloon sleeve. The sight of a woman, carry- ing a projection on each side of her, bigger than her body, would certainly look as pre- posterous to him, as an edifice in which the wrings were larger than the main building. Having said so much to recommend the cultivation of a good taste in dress, it may be thought by some, that I have laid too much stress upon the subject, and that young women should be taught to view it as a matter of in- difference. But I consider the desire of mak- ing an agreeable impression upon others by our personal appearance, as too natural a feel- ing to be violently rooted out of the female 108 DRESS. heart; I would only guard against its being allowed too much space there, and show how the desired end may be attained without any sacrifice of higher good. It is in vain that some religionists have en- deavoured to produce in the minds of young people a perfect indifference to dress, and that some sects have thought, by establishing a standard of plainness, to prevent them from dwelling on the subject of their outward ap- pearance. To the initiated eye, even the uni- form garb of the Quakers presents variations of fashion, and I have seen a young lady of that society, as much distressed, by her new bonnet having a few plaits too many in the crown, as any fashionable belle could be, at being obliged to appear in the mode of the previous year. Those who are restricted in form and color, generally indemnify themselves by an overweening anxiety and particularity about texture and material. The cap in which all superfluity is so retrenched, that it sits close to the head, and is allowed no fulness even in the border, is often made of muslin that costs five dollars a yard ! The sad-colored silks are of the richest manufacture, and every shop in a large city is often ransacked, for the exact shade of drab that is desired. Nothing therefore is gained to the character of young women by these outward restrictions ; MODERATION NECESSARY. 109 but if they can be taught to give to dress no more importance than it reasonably demands, and to make it an occasion of exercising good sense and good taste, their natural desire to appear well in the eyes of others, may be gratified, and their characters improved at the same time. There is too much individual character shown in dress, and it is too generally taken as an indication, on which to form our opinions of people, for it to be treated as a matter of no consequence. To be sure it shrinks into insignificance, compared with the inward adornment of the mind ; but a proper regard to it will not interfere with any weightier matter. Whenever dress occupies too much time, engrosses too much thought, costs too much money, it becomes, like any other excess, a serious evil. Personal beauty we cannot command; but there is a degree of compensation for the want of it, in the advantages of dress, which all suppose to be within their reach ; and it is for this very reason, that we so often see the most elaborate and ornamental attire on the most homely persons. Their aim is good, but they mistake the means of reaching it. Allow- ing, therefore, that, to the most rational and intellectual young lady, dress must naturally be a matter of some consequence, it is very J 110 DRESS. important that her mind should be so enlight- ened upon the subject, and her taste so culti- vated, that she may attain the desired end of being always well dressed, with the smallest possible sacrifice of time, mind, and money. Now there are some rules, which, being based on first principles, are of universal application ; and one of these belongs to our present subject, namely, nothing can be truly beautiful which is not appropriate ; nature and the fine arts teach us this. All styles of dress, therefore, which impede the motions of the wearer, which do not sufficiently protect the person, which add unnecessarily to the heat of summer, or to the cold of winter, which do not suit the age and occupations of the wearer, or which indicate an expenditure unsuited to her means, are inappropriate y and therefore destitute of one of the essential elements of beauty. Propriety, or fitness, lies at the foundation of all good taste in dressing ; and to this test should be brought a variety of particulars, too numerous to be mentioned, but which may be thus illus- trated. The dress that would be very proper on occasion of a morning visit in a city, would be so out of place, if worn by the same person, when making preserves or pastry, or when scrambling through the bushes in a country walk, that it would cease to look well ; a clean calico gown and white apron would be so APPROPRIATENESS ESSENTIAL TO BEAUTY. Ill much more convenient and suitable, that the wearer would actually look better in them. The rich dress and costly ornaments, that be- come maturer life, and ceremonious parties in large cities, are unsuited to the very young, who need no such " foreign aid," and especially at the more simple assemblies of a country town. Some persons toil early and late, and strain every nerve, to procure an expensive garment, and think, that once arrayed in it, they shall look as well as some richer neighbour, whose style of dress they wish to imitate ; but they forget, that, if it does not accord with their general style of living, if it is out of har- mony with other things, it will so strike every- body, and this want of fitness will prevent its looking well on them. Let a true sense of propriety, of the fitness of things, regulate all your habits of living and dressing, and it will produce such a beautiful harmony and consistency of character, as will throw a charm around you that all will feel, though few may comprehend. Always consider well whether the articles of dress, which you wish to purchase, are suited to your age, your condition, your means ; to the climate, to the particular use to which you mean to put them ; and then let the principles of good taste keep you from the extremes of the fashion, and regulate the form, so as to combine utility and 112 DRESS. beauty, whilst the known rules of harmony in colors, saves you from shocking the eye of the artist by incongruous mixtures. The agreeable effect that all wish to pro- duce in the eyes of others, depends much more on just proportions in the parts, thus forming a pleasing whole, than on little ornamental additions, which, though pretty in themselves, add nothing to the general effect. Thus in making a pelisse, it is all-important that the cape should be of the right size and shape, to agree well with the sleeves and back, and that the collar should be well proportioned to the cape ; but it matters very little w^hether it have one or two rouleaus of satin or velvet round it, or whether it have none ; and so it is with a thousand other little particulars, which take much time in the making and add much to the expense, without really adding anything to the general good appearance. It is a happy thing for the diffusion of good taste, that it may, in many things, be cultivated without any peculiar expense. The price of colored muslin, or printed calico, is the same, whether the figure be pretty or ugly; the ribbon that is tastefully disposed upon the bonnet, costs no more than the one that is ill arranged. The shawl is the same in value whether it is dragged round the shoulders like an Indian's blanket, or worn in graceful folds. TASTE FAVORABLE TO ECONOMY. 113 It costs no more to buy colors that harmonize, than those that do not. Indeed, true taste will generally be found on the side of economy, because simplicity is ; the first cost is thus lessened, and garments, that are really well shaped, are longer in favor. The exercise of good taste, therefore, need not be considered as the privilege of the few ; it may regulate the toilet of her who earns what she expends upon it, as well as of her whose bills are paid by a rich father ; the more it is studied, the more good sense and simplicity will be con- sulted, because these are included in the prin- ciples of true taste. Whilst taste may be made to regulate the dress of all, even of the working classes, wealth, unaccompanied by it, cannot command its beautiful results. Your clothes may be ordered of the best dress-maker and every- thing you wear may be of the most costly materials, and in the latest Paris fashion ; and yet you may spoil your appearance by your manner of putting them on, and by wearing those articles together which do not accord. The most expensive dresses at a ball are seldom those that produce the best effect ; and nothing so effectually defeats its object, as an excess of ornament. Some persons seem to have an inherent love of finery, and adhere to it pertinaciously, T* 8 114 DRESS. even when their understandings are convinced that it is repugnant to the feelings of refined minds, and that it is a trait common to all barbarous tribes ; they cannot reason upon their preferences, they can only say, that what others condemn as tawdry, looks pretty to them. This perversion generally takes place very early, and is much to be regretted, as it pre- vents the growth of purer principles. I have often thought, that the very bad taste, in which dolls are usually dressed, may have something to do with this early love of finery. Children have often a real affection for their puppets; and when they are bedizened in all the colors of the rainbow, and decked in all the odds and ends of finery that can be stuck upon them, the little dears learn, by this association, to love this tawdry ornament ; whereas a well-dressed doll would have an important influence in establishing a correct taste in the mind of a child. I once knew a family where the dolls w^ere all very neatly dressed, like babies and little children, and not as fine ladies, on pur- pose to make them a more rational and useful source of amusement j and I would beg all young ladies who dress dolls for little girls, to do it in such a manner as not to foster a love of finery. I have heard of a mother who guarded her LOVE OF FINERY. 116 daughters against this bad taste by making it one of their childish punishments to wear a very tawdry cap full of feathers, and flowers, and bows of ribbons of all colors. Judging by what we sometimes see worn by grown people, we might suppose that such a cap had been their reward in childhood, rather than their punishment, and was thus recommended to their best affections. The love of finery is rarely cured, and forms an insurmountable obstacle to the cultivation of a pure taste. Whosoever is conscious of possessing it, ought to mistrust her own judgment in matters of taste, and be willing to take the advice of others. No plainness of dress can ever be construed to your disadvantage ; but ornamental addi- tions, which in their best state are a very doubtful good, become a positive evil when defaced, or soiled, or tumbled. Shabby feath- ers, and crushed or faded artificial flowers, are an absolute disgrace to a lady's appearance ; whereas their total absence would never be remarked. Next to soiled stockings, soiled bonnet-caps are the most off'ensive things in a young lady's dress ; and the latter are but too common. Whatever approaches the face should be particularly clean ; and it is better always to wear those materials which will wash, than to use silk net after it is at all 1 16 DRESS. sullied by wear. Colored gauze handkerchiefs that are worn till they are faded, or sullied, or the color changed by perspiration, are a dis- agreeable sight, and will spoil the neat ap- pearance of a person, however well dressed otherwise; cleanliness being the first requisite in a lady's dress. Such various qualities of mind are called into action in connexion with dress, that we cannot wonder at its having great influence on the opinions that are formed of us ; and the more Christian principles prevail, the more just will be those opinions, and the more truly will dress be an indication of the character. Who, that sees a young lady very carefully arrayed at a ball, and finds her when at home, and not expecting company, in a torn or soiled dress, can fail to draw conclusions unfavorable to the character of the individual ? If you have a friend who has lately become insolvent, and you see his daughters appear, soon after, in new and costly garments, what are your feelings ? Is not all admiration of their costume lost, in the sense of its betraying a want of common honesty, thus to spend the money that belongs to their father's creditors ; and does not this exhibition of lax principles, do them more harm, than any personal decora- tion can do them good ? Dress is a very fair index of a young woman's neatness, indus- DRESS A TEST OF CHARACTER. 117 try, economy, good sense, modesty, and good taste; and she, who is at all times, in her private as well as public hours, perfectly well dressed, according to all that I include in that term, must have many of the substantial quali- ties that constitute a good character and are essential to domestic comfort. The character is much more shown in the style of dress that is worn every day, than in that which is designed for great occasions ; and Avhen I see a young girl come down to the family breakfast in an untidy wrapper, with her hair in papers, her feet slip-shod, and an old silk handkerchief round her neck, I know that she cannot be the neat, industrious, and refined person whom I should like for an in- mate. I feel equally certain too, that her chamber is not kept in good order, and that she does not set a proper value upon time. However well a lady has appeared at a party, I would recommend to a young gentleman, before he makes up his mind as to her domes- tic qualities, to observe her appearance at the breakfast-table, when she expects to see only her own family, and, if it be such as I have just described, to beware how he prosecutes the acquaintance. To begin the day well, it is necessary to rise early enough to perform all the ablutions neces- sary to health and cleanliness, and to be neatly 1 18 DRESS. and completely dressed before breakfast. Your morning dress should always be such as you would not be ashamed to be seen in, by any accidental visitor; and a clean muslin collar, or ruffle, of the plainest materials, gives an im- pression of far greater neatness, than a colored handkerchief. If you are suitably dressed for the business of the morning, you are ready to enter upon it at once, and much time is saved ; you are not discomposed by unexpect- ed guests ; and, if particularly engaged, you can wear the same dress all day. Very young girls are apt to think, that the most important item in their dress is the material of which their frocks are made, whe'reas that is really of the least consequence. Clean stockings, neat shoes and strings, smooth, well-brushed hair, and delicately clean hands, nails, and teeth, would make them look more lady-like, and better dressed, in a nine-penny calico, than they would be, in the finest merino, or most costly French print, without these accom- paniments. Those things which are most essential to a neat appearance are most within the reach of everybody, and therefore the neglect of them is not to be excused. Everybody can mend stockings and gloves, however old they may be ; everybody can avoid breaking shoe- strings by wearing them too tight, or having UNDER CLOTHES. 119 them become untied by tying them in false knots. Clean hands and nails, and well brush- ed hair and teeth, it is in everybody's power to possess ; and, without constant attention to these particulars, the most expensive garments will fail to produce the effect you desire. The same honesty and self-respect, which should keep you from making a saving that you are ashamed of, should prevent your wear- ing anything, even out of sight, that you would be ashamed to have seen, if sudden indispo- sition caused it to be exposed before stran- gers. It is to be feared, that the care which is bestowed upon the fashion of outer garments is greatly disproportioned to that which is given to the under clothes ; and yet a fair- minded person, and one who is true to herself, would not sacrifice the inside to the outside, and would not choose to have a great disparity between the seen and the unseen. All sorts of cotton fabrics are now so cheap, that there is no excuse for any person's not being well provided ; and though some still use linen, as being more genteel, the extremes of our climate render it very unwholesome, whilst health, convenience, and economy are all in favor of the use of cotton. Too large a supply of clothes is an encum- brance ; and, as there are improvements made, 120 DRESS. from time to time, in every sort of garment, it is undesirable to have a great number made at once. If your clothes are washed every week, you only want changes enough to last two weeks ; that allows you time to mend your clothes after they come out of the w^ash. If you are liable to go from home suddenly, it is well to have some under garments, besides those in constant wear, and they should be always ready for use at a minute's notice. It is well to have a place of deposit for such articles of clothing, and keep there the newest and best of everything, whilst you use con- stantly those partly w^orn and defaced. The sooner a garment is mended, after it begins to require it, the better. Fine muslins and laces are ruined by being Vv^ashed with holes in them; and I should think very little of the notableness, or neatness, of a young lady who wore an embroidered cape with holes in it, that had evidently been there before it was done up. Silk stockings, too, are spoiled if not mended before they are washed; but cotton or woollen hose maybe repaired afterwards. Soiled clothes should be kept in a bag through the week, and carefully looked over before they are given out to be washed. Some neat persons make a point of marking every grease-spot by running a thread round it, that it may not be overlooked by the washer; others NEEDLE-WORK. 121 rub soap on the place themselves, to insure its being done. There is good reason for being particular to have your clothes washed clean, and made of a good color. If your washing is done out of the house, and you pay for it by the dozen pieces, or by the quarter, do not be satis- fied with counting the number of articles only, but make an exact list of them; so that if one is missing you may know what it is, and so help the washer to find it; also, that if an article belonging to another is brought to you, by mistake, you can return it immediately to the washer, that she may restore it to its owner. We should gladly adopt every contrivance for saving time and abridging the labor neces- sarily bestowed upon dress. Those who know how to use the needle after the best fashion of our grandmothers' days, may next acquire the art of slighting certain parts of their work, where it will not interfere with durability, and so save some thousand superfluous stitches in a week. But if you cannot make a fine shirt in the neatest and best manner, you need not at- tempt the art of slighting, as that can only be safely done by a really good needlewoman; your best endeavours will be slighting enough, no doubt. If it has been the misfortune of any of my readers to have grown up without being made good needlewomen, the sooner they undertake K 122 DRESS. to supply this deficiency the better. A woman who does not know how to sew is as deficient in her education as a man who cannot write. Let her condition in life be what it may, she cannot be ignorant of the use of her needle, without incommoding herself and others, and without neglecting some important duties. Be- sides this, there is, in this truly feminine em- ployment, a moral power which is useful to the sex. There is a soothing and sedative eflfect in needle-work ; it composes the nerves, and furnishes a corrective for many of the little irri- tations of domestic life. Let no woman think herself exempt from the duty of " plying the polished shaft." In every situation of life, she will find herself the better for an early and thorough acquaintance with plain sewing. Among other good consequences, I will men- tion that of its enabling her to revv^ard ade- quately the services of others, and preventing her from being unreasonable in her requisitions of them. The ignorant are always the hardest task-masters. In case too of a reverse of fortune, it is always a resource against want. Where it is the custom of a family to read aloud during the long evenings of winter, there will always be ample opportunity for the young ladies to do their plain sewing ; and this kind of occupation for the fingers is more favorable to listening attentively to what is read than NEEDLE-WORK. 123 any embroidery or ornamental work, as that necessarily divides the attention. In order to reap the full benefit of this delightful mode of passing an evening, you must have your work well prepared before the hour of reading comes, and your work-box properly furnished with the implements and materials you may need ; for it spoils the pleasure of all, for one to be obliged to leave the circle in search of anything. Avoid all whispering about your work, all borrowing of scissors -and spools of cotton. Each one should be properly supplied, and all debatable points be settled, before the reading begins; and then the mind should be fixed on the book whilst the fingers move mechanically. A want of attention to these little details w411 convert what ought to be a most agreeable and instructive occupation, into an occasion of vexation and disappointment. There are few things more trying to the temper than reading aloud to inattentive per- sons, or more discouraging than frequent inter- ruptions ; the father or brother, who has been thus annoyed, will rarely be found willing to repeat the experiment. If, therefore, you would secure the pleasure of being read to, come to it well prepared ; and, if you find yourself other- wise, you had better sacrifice your w^ork, or your share in the reading, than disturb the whole party by moving to and fro after what 124 DRESS. you want. Where most of the winter even- ings are thus spent, a young lady will find it easy to do all her own mending and plain sew- ing, as well as to help her mother with the shirts and stockings of her father and brothers. Most girls consider it a settled thing, that darning stockings is the worst of drudgery, and, without entering at all into the merits of the case, they cultivate an unreasonable dislike to it. This prejudice is often handed down from mother to daughter; and, as it is a busi- ness which quickly accumulates on being ne- glected, the basket of unmended stockings is the dread of all the household. But as there is nothing in the whole economy of dress that turns to such good account as good darning, it is unwise to make it a bugbear by your man- ner of regarding it, or of doing it. The stitch used in darning stockings is the same as that for working lace, which was a favorite em- ployment a little while ago ; there can there- fore be nothing peculiarly unpleasant in the stitch. There is nothing intricate and difficult in the art; when you have chosen a needle and thread of the proper size for the texture of your hose, and have only to darn thin places, it is the easiest and prettiest of stitchery, and has this advantage over lace-work, that it claims much less of your attention whilst do- ing, and, when done, it will add much more to DARNING STOCKINGS. 125 your appearance and comfort, than yards of lace would do. Neat-looking stockings are so indispensable to a lady, and they so soon look shabby, if not taken good care of and well re- paired, that your time cannot be better bestow- ed on any article of dress, than on your hose. This is so well understood in the old countries, that ladies who do no other plain work, mendr their own stockings. If you look with con- tempt upon this branch of female industry, and darn your stockings in a great hurry, just when you want to put them on, it will always be an irksome task; but take a pair of stockings in hand, when nothing presses you for time, and darn them whilst listening to reading or con- versation, and you will find it one of the most agreeable of mechanical employments. If you are not hurried, you will seek out all the thin places and feel a satisfaction in guarding them from becoming holes ; thus securing a neat stocking, and preventing accidents of the most mortifying kind. For the very reason that stockings are so often badly mended, suffered to become full of holes, and then hastily cob- bled up, the art of repairing them has fallen into disrepute ; girls take it to be a matter of course that they must hate darning stockings. I have seen a lady as much stared and won- dered at for saying that she liked to darn, as if she had expressed a fondness for the tooth-ache. 126 DRESS. If any one wishes to overcome this imaginary- evil, let her begin with a new set of stockings, take the whole care of them herself, and mend them at a stated time every week. If you are so situated in life, that you can hire others to do your needle-work for you, you had bet- ter let a seamstress do any other thing than darn your stockings. That sort of work is so easily slighted, or done clumsily, that it re- quires the owner's interest in the matter to secure its being well done. Persons differ very widely in their standard of neatness with regard to stockings ; and as the darning should be adapted to the texture of the hose, and the fastidiousness of the wearer, each one is best able to suit herself. If you would save your- self innumerable stitches, always line the heels of stockings and run the thin places. The tops of old hose make the best linings, and, if put in slightly, and changed as soon as worn out, will save the stocking from holes for a long while. There is a great difference in the manner of wearing our apparel, so as to make it look well for a longer or shorter time. Some girls destroy their clothes in a very heedless way, and their parents, from a false delicacy or generosity, say nothing about it, but pay the cost and bear the inconvenience. Many arti- cles of dress are more injured by want of care CARE TO BE TAKEN OF CLOTHES. 127 in the disposal of them, when off the person, than when in wear ; capes, collars, and bows of ribbon are of this description. If not put away properly, they are rumpled and made to look worse than when worn carefully for a week. Smoothing such things with a hot iron turns them yellow, and, if the least sullied, it makes it difficult to wash them clean. Mrs. Willard, in her amusing book of Travels, has a great deal to say on the care which French ladies take of their clothes when not in wear. She describes how they fold up their dresses, and pin them up in towels, and place them carefully on a shelf. It seems to have struck her very forcibly, because it was so differ- ent from the habits she had observed in her own country. The French certainly under- stand the whole art of making the best ap- pearance upon the smallest means ; and, as every one can do something better with her money, than spend it unnecessarily upon her own dress, it is well to learn the lesson which they can teach. Other good habits will help you in this ; if you are orderly, and have a place for everything, and put everything in its place the moment you take it off, this will be a great means of preserving your clothes in nice order. The practice of coming into the parlour with your walking-dress on and taking it off there, throwing your bonnet down on one 128 DKh;s&. chair and your cloak on another, letting your boa sweep the floor, and the collar that is pinned to your cloak be all tumbled up with it ; and then, when at last you must carry them away, gathering them up any how, and holding your bonnet by one string, or with a gripe of the front that bends it ; all these little things will in three months greatly deface your clothes, and make them look much more shab- by than those which are always carried up stairs at once on the person of the wearer, and put away as they are taken off. Bonnets are very much injured by lying about ; they should be put into their proper box the very moment they are taken off the head, unless they are dusty or damp. In the former case, blow or wipe off the dust ; in the latter, adjust the bows whilst you dry them ; for a bonnet should always be put away in proper order to be worn again at a minute's notice. Veils should be taken off and folded up, not left tied to the bonnet and crumpled up in the band-box. All shawls should be folded up, square and even, in the same folds, every time they are laid by ; and if much rumpled in wear- ing, it is well to put them under some weight, to be pressed smooth before they are worn again. Gloves look well much longer, if, in- stead of turning one in the other, all in a crump, you pull out the fingers and stretch CARE TO BE TAKEN OF CLOTHES. 129 the glove lengthwise, and, laying one on the other, put them by without any folding. Belts should be kept smooth, care being taken in putting them away. Shoes are made shabby by standing about your chamber, or being kept under beds and bureaus. The dust gets into them and makes them look irrecoverably dingy and worn before their proper time. Have a box or a covered shelf in a closet appropriated to shoes, and make a point of keeping them in their place. Very nice dresses, which are only worn occasionally, should not be left hanging up in closets for weeks and months to gather dust, unless they are turned wrong side out, and hung up by the belt hooked together, and have the waist turned down within the skirt. But if you have enough drawers or shelves, they had better be folded and pinned up in towels, and put away from dust and air. Dresses in every-day wear may very well be hung in closets, and should be placed there the moment they are taken off. Night-clothes should be hung up to air through the day, in- stead of being placed under the pillow. Some young ladies, who put their chambers in good order every morning, are content to go to bed at night leaving them in the utmost confusion. They do not consider how liable every one is to sudden indisposition, or to an 9 130 DRESS. alarm of fire, or to some contingency that would introduce their family and even strangers into the apartment, nor how mortified they would feel to see a gentleman stumbling over their petticoats, dropped in a ring in the middle of the floor, or kicking a stray shoe or stocking before him. It is best to be always prepared for any exposure, by an undeviating practice of neatness and order. Every article taken off the person at night, should have an appropri- ate place ; under-garments, especially, should be so arranged, near your bed, as to be well aired without exposure in full view, and to be easily seized and put on, in case of an alarm. Shoes should have a fixed place, w^here you can always find them in the dark. Stockings should be drawn one w^ithin the other, and include the garters, that they may not be miss- ing when wanted in haste. Chairs should be set in their places, and all things so arranged as not to be stumbled over in the dark, should you have occasion to rise in the night. Those who sleep in short cotton gowns, gen- erally use the same article as a dressing gown, over which they comb and brush their hair ; but this is untidy, as loose hairs and dandruff will lodge in the folds, and so be carried to bed with you. Have a separate gown for this purpose, or else pin a napkin round your neck that will cover your shoulders, and receive NEAT HABITS. 131 every thing that comes from your hair. It aids a person in being very thorough in performing the duties of the toilet, morning and evening, to have a comfortable and seemly dressing- gown, double in winter and single in summer, and long as your skirts are, in which you would not mind being seen by any of your family. With such a garment on, you will be more likely to give the proper time and attention to combing and brushing your hair, cleaning your teeth and nails, &c. ; and, being made very large and loose, it allows you the free use of your arms in shaking up your bed. Such a garment should never be worn about the house ; but in your own chamber, it favors neatness and refinement. The chief brushing and combing you give your hair is best done at night when you are mistress of your time, and can bestow as much as is necessary to make your head perfectly clean. I would not recommend a hundred strokes of the brush every night, which is what a celebrated lady nightly bestov^^ed on her raven locks ; for some heads require much less than others ; but I would say, brush till your locks are free from every speck and in perfect order for dressing in the morning. If your hair is of the dry kind, that requires oil, beware of using what is rancid, as the odor of it is very disagreeable. If you curl your hair at night, 132 DRESS. use clean light-brown paper, not news-paper, for that is dirty stuff; and make your night- cap cover your curl-papers, for there is no more frightful appendage to a woman than they are. But to return to the proper care of clothes. As a general rule those things which are in- jured by washing should never be worn next the skin. Such as woollen and silk shawls, the sleeves of silk dresses, &c. Be not shocked to be told that it will grease them, for the fairest and most delicately clean skin is so constituted, as to be kept soft and healthy by a lubrication of oil, insensible to the eye, un- less allowed to accumulate on something that will not bear washing, but sufficiently evident w^here this is the case. The slightest texture of muslin interposed, and frequently changed and washed, will prevent this unsightly accu- mulation. I have seen the back of a high- necked dress that was not lined, so changed, where it came in contact with the skin, as to mark distinctly the outline between that and the part which had other clothing under it. This is a disgusting sight, and might subject a young lady to the imputation of having a peculiarly greasy skin, when that was not really the case. A refined person, who would not like to have such marks seen on any part of her attire, should always have a material, that will wash, next to her skin, and submit, even CARE TO BE TAKEN OF CLOTHES. 133 in summer, to the additional heat of muslin sleeves under silk ones These are better than linings, as they can be washed more easily. New gloves are often sacrificed by being drawn on too hastily ; and if this is done just as you are leaving the house for a party, you must either keep your friends waiting whilst you change them, or appear in torn gloves. It is better to fit them to your hand deliberately before they are worn. This leads me to recommend the practice of laying out the things to be worn on any par- ticular occasion, some hours before you dress. In this way you ascertain whether everything is in order, in time to supply a deficiency, or make any necessary repairs. By deciding be- forehand what you will wear, you are more like- ly to do it wisely than if it is left to the time of dressing, and more likely to be ready punctu- ally. By having your clothes laid out in readi- ness, you avoid confusion and that mislaying of things which so often occasions delays. If you are in the habit of putting away each arti- cle as you take it off, your room will not get into that state of disorder, in which what you most want has disappeared, and cannot be found without much loss of time. Whenever this does happen, the best way to find the missing article, is to begin patting away every- thing that is lying about. When you take up 134 . DRESS. anything to look under it, you may as well re- store it to its proper place, as lay it down again in the same spot, and so put your room in order and search for what is lost at the same time. Although it is a great pity to devote more time to dressing than is actually requisite, it is necessary to punctuality that you should allow yourself as much as it will take. If you cannot learn to quicken your movements, or save time by due preparation beforehand, you must begin earlier; for, by not being ready at the hour appointed, you are guilty of a breach of politeness to all concerned, and you rob them of two most valuable possessions, time and patience. Unpunctual people generally live under a delusion as to the time that it takes them to do things ; they wilfully shut their minds to the conviction, that if it took them a whole hour to dress for a party last week, it v»'ill probably take as long this. They seem to have a dread of being ready before the time, as if it would do them some harm to be dressed, and in the parlour, ten minutes before the appointed hour ; but no dilatory person can become punctual, unless she over- come that repugnance, and make an effort to be ready before the time. The want of punctuality is such a flagrant violation of the rights of others, that it will be CONDUCT TO DRESS-MAKERS. 135 more fully treated of elsewhere; but it is so often occasioned by delays in dressing, that it naturally connects itself with the subject of this chapter. There is another topic intimately connected with dress, which involves very serious conse- quences to a suffering portion of the community. I allude to unreasonable exactions upon dress- makers, milliners, and seamstresses. The young belle, who is very desirous of having a dress made, in order to wear it on a particular occa- sion, near at hand, urges her dress-maker to get it done at a certain time, little thinking of the aching sides, and throbbing temples, and smarting eyes, and toil-worn fingers, that must be overtasked and deprived of proper natural rest, in order to gratify her in this particular. She converses about it with the flourishing head of a fashionable establishment, and thinks not of the pale and lean girls who are to do the work, and lose a night's sleep to accom- plish it. A peep behind the scenes would so touch the sympathies of a generous nature as to make the new dress lose all its importance, when viewed in connexion with the sufferings of those who are to make it. When you are promised an article on Satur- day night, and it does not come till Sunday morning, you may be sure that wholesome rest, if not a portion of the Sabbath, has been sacri- 136 DRESS. ficed to its completion. Who that has a heart to feel would not rather wear the old bonnet another Sunday, than be the means of over- working a fellow being ? These things, once known and borne in mind, must influence the conduct of gentle natures towards those they employ to work for them ; and each one that shows an interest in their welfare does some- thing towards ameliorating their condition. Let no one try to satisfy her conscience by saying, " If these work-women do not toil for me, they will for some one else, and I may as well reap the benefit as my neighbour." Each one is bound to do right for herself, whether any good results from it to others or not. But there is such power in goodness, that we cannot doubt the importance to others of any one per- son's acting conscientiously in such matters, whilst to the individual herself it is of vital consequence. Borrowing clothes is a practice that can hardly be indulged in, even among sisters, without an unjustifiable infringement of the rights of others. It is generally those who are the most careless and improvident that wish to borrow, and they are least to be trusted with what is not their own. To wish to make an appearance beyond your own resources by borrowing the ornaments and rich clothing of others, is mean in the extreme. Friends or BORROWING. 137 sisters may occasionally accommodate each other by the loan of a small article ; but the favor should be reciprocal, never on one side only, or it becomes a burden to the lender, and an indulgence of selfishness in the borrower. I have known sisters so mean and exacting, as to make a practice of supplying their own deficiencies by borrowing constantly of one more provident than the rest. The clean bonnet-cap was hardly prepared before it was borrowed, and the prettiest belt or cape was oftener worn by these harpies, than by the rightful owner. It is very allowable to borrow a shawl or cloak, where you would otherwise suffer for the want of one; but, in that case, beg for the least valuable one your friend has ; wear it more carefully than you would your own ; fold it up as soon as you take it off, and put it in a safe place till returned, which it should be as early as possible, carefully \vrapt up and directed, lest it should be injured or lost on its way back. If, at a party, you accidentally exchange some article of dress, and find, on returning home, that you have another person's hood, or shawl, or over-shoes, lose no time in sending them back the next day, to the house of enter- tainment, with a note describing your owni ar- 138 DRESS. tide, and requesting that inquiry may be made for it when the article sent is called for. If this were a general practice, such mistakes would be easily rectified ; but if you do not make the house where the exchange took place a point of meeting, to set things right, you may never find your own, or restore what you have taken of another ; and, whether you are a gainer or loser by the mistake, you should be equally anxious to correct it. I have known a very valuable boa exchanged at a party for a miserable little string of coarse fur; and if the person, who made the advantageous exchange, had taken half the pains to restore what did not belong to her, that the loser did to regain her own, it would have been forthcoming ; but, from some obliquity or inefficiency, the valuable boa was lost for ever to its rightful owner. I have heard girls triumph in an ad- vantageous exchange of this sort, considering it only a good joke, instead of a piece of dis- honesty, and it certainly is nothing less to retain an article belonging to another without an effort to find the owner. I must not dismiss the subject of dress with- out reminding those ladies, who are deeply interested in their studies, and are pursuing knowledge with an eagerness that leaves them little time or inclination for the duties of the toilet, that they are responsible to their sex. DUTY OF CULTIVATED WOMEN. 139 for not bringing literary pursuits into disrepute by neglecting their personal appearance. Let them simplify their dress as much as they can, but at the same time they should be even more careful than others, to be always neatly equip- ped, and sufficiently in the fashion to avoid singularity. Let them consider that, for many years, it was a standing argument against giving daughters a liberal education, that if they became learned or literary, they would inevitably be slatterns in their dress, and in their conduct of household affairs. The connexion, in many minds, is still very close between hlue stockings and dirty stockings ; let nothing be done to strengthen it ; but let ladies of the present day, who have highly cul- tivated minds, make a point of showing the world that their attainments are not incompati- ble with due attention to domestic affairs and personal neatness; let them follow the example of those distinguished female writers of the last half century, who have done so much to destroy the prejudice of the other sex against learned ladies. I can assure my young friends, from personal observation, that the classic lore of Mrs. Bar- bauld never interfered with the most exact attention to personal neatness and propriety of dress ; that the poetic inspiration of Mrs. Joanna Baillie never prevents her from being 140 DRESS. a notable house-wife, a very good dresser, and the best of neighbours to the sick and the af- flicted. Neither do the scientific researches and high mathematical attainments of Mrs. Somerville interfere with other pursuits more common to her sex, such as botany, mineralo- gy, music, and painting, whilst the peculiar grace and beauty of her toilet would lead a stranger to suppose, that more than common attention had been bestowed upon it. MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. 141 CHAPTER VII. Means of Preserving Health. Importance of the Subject. — Objections anticipated, — The Laws of our Being are fixed. — Extract from Dr. Combe. — Advantages of the Study of Physiology. — Structure of the Skin. — Insensible Perspiration. — Animal Heat. — Absorb- ents. — Sensation. — Cleanliness. — Warm and Cold Bath- ing. — Mutual Dependence of the Skin and the Lungs. — Circulation of the Blood. — Exercise. — Cold Extremities. — The Lungs. — Digestion. — Food. — Drink. — Fasting the Best Cure. — Constipation. — Tight Lacing. — Tight Shoes. Were this chapter headed with, " The Means of Preserving Beauty," how many eyes, that will now turn away from it with indifference, would then be riveted to it ; and yet a bet- ter understanding of the subject would make those, who are most anxious to preserve their good looks, seek most eagerly to know how to preserve their health, for without that, no one can long be beautiful, and with it, the plainest person is sure of one kind of comeliness. We think with horror of that sort of suicide, which is committed by hanging, drowning, or poisoning; but take no note of the more nu- merous, and more responsible cases that are to be found among those who destroy their health by inattention to the laws which a wise Creator has affixed to the human constitution. Igno- rance, a blamable ignorance, of the structure 142 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. and functions of those organs on which life depends, has occasioned the death of thou- sands. Women study all the arts and sciences which are fitted to embellish life, whilst they fail to become acquainted with that one sub- ject, on which depends the exercise and full enjoyment of all else that they know. They spend years in learning to sing, without devot- ing one hour's attention to the construction of that wonderful instrument, the lungs. They pursue all other kinds of knowledge, and neglect that which is necessary to the due observance of the laws of their being ; and, by ignorantly transgressing those laws, they bring on disease, and are prematurely cut off in the very bloom of life. On no other subject, connected with their temporal well-being, are persons so blind to their own interests. Suppose, for instance, that you inherited from your parents a valuable piece of mechanism, by means of which the most curious and complicated movements of puppets were performed, the finest music was produced, and a succession of landscapes was presented, in which motion was given to the trees, as if waving in the wind, brooks ran and bubbled, and clouds appeared floating in the air ; suppose that the machinery which pro- duced these curious results was all concealed IMPORTANCE OF THE SUBJECT. 143 in a closely shut box, which could not be open- ed without destroying the instrument for ever. You received with the box, a few directions about winding it up, and pulling certain strings and touching certain springs, at stated times, without knowing the connexion between these, and the hidden movements within. This ig- norance would inevitably lead to mistakes in its management^ and if by chance any part were out of order, your attempts to rectify it would be made at random, and be as likely to do harm, as good. Would you not, in such a case, be very desirous to learn something of the internal structure of this curious and valu- able machine, more especially if by a spell your enjoyment of life, and life itself, were made to depend on its being kept in good order ? If a friend should come to you and say, " I have seen many such boxes before, I have seen them opened, and know exactly how they are constructed, and why touching this spring pro- duces one effect, and touching that, another ; I know too what ails your box, and makes its music imperfect, and its movements incom- plete; shall I explain it to you ?" Would you not eagerly receive the proffered information ? And yet your own bodies are full of machin- ery far more curious than was ever imagined by man, performing far more complicated move- ments than we can number or describe, and on 144 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. your right understanding of their proper use and treatment depend not only the prolonga- tion of your life, but the power of enjoyment, activity, and usefulness, while it lasts. What avails it, that you have every luxury which wealth can procure, or that you possess the kindest friends, and the finest powers ? Without health, you can neither enjoy the one, nor exercise the other. Look back upon your childhood, and see how many of your early schoolmates are num- bered with the dead, how many have grown up pale and feeble, how many are habitual in- valids ; look at those who are among your mother's friends, and see who of them arc possessed of good health, and can perform all the duties of life without hinderance from bod- ily infirmity ; and then consider, whether, for the sake of preserving this rare and valuable possession from the evils occasioned by igno- rance, you are not willing to take a little pains to inform yourself upon the subject. Perhaps you are weary of hearing it said, that bathing, and friction, and exercise, are neces- sary to health, that breathing the air of hot rooms and crowded theatres is hurtful to it, that certain kinds of food are good for the digestion and other kinds are bad; but will it not interest you to know hoiv bathing affects the skin, and, by understanding its curious OBJECTIONS ANTICIPATEP. 145 Structure, see for yourself what is necessary to its being in a healthy condition ? Would you not like to hear how your lively feelings de- pend on your circulations, and how these are quickened by the motions of the muscles, which we call exercise ? Will it not interest you to know how that important organ, the lungs, is rendered liable to become the seat of the most incurable of diseases, and how its functions can best be kept in a healthy state ? Will you not be willing to learn how the stomach oper- ates on the food, and why eating between meals is unwholesome, why suppers disturb the sleep, and why pound-cake gives you the head- ache. " Let it not be said, that knowledge of this description is superfluous to the unprofessional reader ; for society groans under the load of suffering inflicted by causes susceptible of re- moval, but left in operation in consequence of our unacquaintance with our own structure, and with the relations of the different parts of the system to each other and to external ob- jects." How few persons understand the uses of the skin, or how to preserve its freshness and health ! Yet it is an organ, on which the com- fort of the whole body depends. " No one can be happy who does not perspire," said an old lady to me one day, and greatly was T amused M 10 146 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. at the putting together of two things which I had never before thought of, as having any connexion ; but, on reflection, I found the old lady was right I have since seen, in Dr. Combe's admirable little work* on the means of preserving health, ample reason for the correctness of the remark. Our bodies are constituted according to cer- tain laws, which are as fixed as those which regulate the planets in their orbits ; but with this difference, that, whilst the heavenly bodies have no power to deviate from their appointed path, to man is given that free agency which leaves him at liberty to maltreat his own body, though he cannot do it without incurring a penalty, that of introducing disease into his system. The law is just as absolute in the one case as in the other ; and it is the prerog- ative, as well as the duty, of man to acquaint himself with it and obey it. Some of these laws we easily understand and readily obey. All admit that we cannot live without food, and sleep, and fresh air. It * Entitled, " The Principles of Physiology, applied to the Preservation of Health, by Andrew Combe, M. D.," republished in New York, as the sixty-first volume of Harpers' "Family Library." — This work is written with- out any technical phrases, is adapted to the comprehension of the unlearned, and describes some of the principal or- gans of the body and their functions in the most perspicu- ous and familiar manner. LAWS OF OUR BEING FIXED. 147 is equally certain, but not equally obvious, that we cannot enjoy full health unless our food be of a proper quality, taken in proper quantities, and at proper times ; and that, to answer its full purpose of refreshment, sleep must be taken in the right quantity, and at the right time. Because the consequences of breaking these laws do not immediately appear, we expect to escape them altogether. Some persons igno- rantly boast that they are just as well without exercise as others are with it. Some say they have learned to do with only four hours' sleep, and others insist upon it that ten or twelve hours do not injure them. One young lady will tell you that dissipation agrees with her, and her lungs are proof against the vitiated atmosphere of crowded rooms ; another will gravely assure you, that rising early gives her the headache, and strong coffee never does her any harm. But, sooner or later, nature wrill vindicate her rights, and the violator of her laws will find, that there are few exceptions to her rules. The elasticity of youth may re- sist such maltreatment for a while ; but at last, and often without warning, the health fails, a long train of diseases follows, the physician catechizes his patient, and finds in her ac- knowledged way of living abundant reason for the complaints that have been induced. 148 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. " Happy would it be for suffering man," says Dr. Combe, " could he see beforehand the great amount of punishment which his multi- plied aberrations from the laws of physiology are sure to bring upon him. But as, in the great majority of instances, the breach of the law is limited in extent, and becomes serious by the frequency of its repetition, rather than by a single act ; so is the punishment gradual in its infliction, and slow in manifesting its accumulated effect ; and this very gradation, and the distance of time at which the full effect is produced, are the reasons why man, in his ignorance, so often fails to trace the connexion between his conduct in life and his broken health. But the connexion subsists although he does not regard it, and the accumulated consequences come upon him when he least ex- pects them. "Thus pure air is essential to the full enjoy- ment of health ; and reason says, that every degree of vitiation must necessarily be propor- tionally hurtful, till we arrive at that degree which destroys life. When we state this fact to a delicately constituted female, who is fond of frequenting heated rooms and crowded as- semblies, and call her attention to the hurtful consequences of inhaling such vitiated air, her answer invariably is, that the closeness and heat are very disagreeable, but that they rarely EXTRACT FROM DR. COMBE. 149 injure her ; by which she can only mean, that a single exposure to them does not always cause an illness serious enough to send her to her bed, or excite acute pain ; although she admits that such results have sometimes fol- lowed. An intelligent observer, however, has no difficulty in perceiving that they do hurt her ; and that, although the effect of each ex- posure is so gradual as not to arrest attention, it is not the less certainly the cause of that general delicacy of health by which she is char- acterized, and from which no medical treat- ment can relieve her, so long as she pursues the same course." Witness the inroads made on the health and beauty of young girls that have been all winter engaged in the fashionable amusements of a large city. You may read, in those pallid cheeks and hollow eyes, in that languid air and shrunk form, a lesson on the evil influences they have been under. Instead of having been braced by winter frosts, and strong out-door exercise, to bear the east winds and variable temperature of spring, they are so enfeebled as to become the ready victims of disease. If not fatally attacked, the more active out-door habits of summer restore a portion of their lost vigor ; and happy would it be for those of delicate constitutions, if they would profit by this practical lesson, and learn in future to M* 150 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. avoid such fruitful causes of disease and death But, instead of this, the health and strength, acquired in the journeys and rambles of sum- mer, are often lavished on the round of fash- ionable amusements in winter. If I could hope that my readers would avail themselves of Dr. Combe's book, here recom- mended, or any other similar work, I might save myself the trouble of entering further upon those subjects of which he has treated so fully and so ably ; but, knowing the prevailing in- difference upon those topics, I cannot feel ex- cused from giving some brief notice of them, though I hope none, who take any interest in what is here said, will fail to prosecute the inquiry further. I am aware that, in doing this, you would have to encounter some prejudices, particularly among your elderly friends, who, having passed the meridian of life without any such knowledge as you are seeking, are apt to discourage others from the pursuit. They are liable also to confound a knowledge of the structure and functions of the different organs with the study of professional treatises on dis- ease, which are not to be recommended to a young reader. It is the means of preventing, not of curing disease, that you should study. The general acquaintance with the structure and functions of the different organs essential to life, which I would urge upon you, would STRUCTURE OF THE SKIN. 151 make you less liable to be imposed upon by the nostrums of quacks who pretend to have discovered a specific for every form of disease ; it would enable you to discover the earlier symptoms of derangement, and so prevent much serious illness ; it would render you a more intelligent listener to the directions of the physician, either in your own case, or that of a friend ; it would prevent your ignorantly ruining your own health ; and, if properly im- pressed with the importance of the subject, it would make you so arrange your plans of life, as to secure you from a wanton sacrifice of one of its greatest blessings. If my limits w^ould admit of my entering into a full description of the structure of the skin, you would find that, simple and uniform as it appears, "it is a compound of many elements, and the seat of as great a variety of functions; and that, like every other part of the animal frame, it displays the most striking proofs of the transcendent wisdom and beneficence of its great Creator." In order to understand anything of its uses, it is necessary to bear in mind that the skin is composed of three layers, each of which answers a purpose peculiar to itself. The outermost layer, that which is visible, is called the epidermis, cuticle, or scarf- skin. It is very thin, as Ave may see when il is raised in blisters. It has no blood-vessels 152 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. or nerves ; it does not bleed when punctured, nor feel any pain, or school-girls would not be so fond of running pins and needles into it for amusement. Immediately beneath the scarf-skin, and be- tween it and the true skin, is a thin soft cover- ing called the mucous coat, which protects the nerves and vessels of the latter, and gives them their requisite softness and pliancy. It is the seat of the coloring matter of the skin, and determines the complexion, from that of the negro, to the fairest lady in the land. " The third and most important layer is the dermis or true skin. It is of considerable thick- ness, full of nerves and blood-vessels, very delicately organized, and endowed with the principle of life in a high degree. Besides being the beautiful and efficacious protector of the parts beneath it, it is the instrument of four important functions ; first, as an exhalant of the waste matter from the system ; second, as a joint regulator of the heat of the body ; third, as an agent of absorption ; and fourth, as the seat of sensation and touch. This true skin, or, as we shall now call it, the skin, is a dense, firm tissue of nerves and blood-vessels, as may be shown by the fact, that you cannot puncture it anywhere with the finest needle, without drawing blood and causing pain, that INSENSIBLE PERSPIRATION. 153 is, without opening a blood-vessel and trans- fixing a nerve." The whole animal system is in a state of constant decay and renovation. Of the food we take, a part goes to supply the waste, and that which is not nutritive passes off by the bowels ; but, besides this excretion, there is a large quantity of old, altered, useless parti- cles perpetually thrown out from the body, by means of visible and invisible excretions, and the skin is one of the principal outlets for this waste matter. This perpetual exhalation, being in the form of vapor, is invisible under ordinary circum- stances, and is called the insensible pers])iration. It is of the same nature as that which is sensi- ble, and which, when it shows itself in drops, is called sweat. " Taking even the lowest esti- mate of Lavoisier, we find the skin endowed with the important charge of removing from the system about twenty ounces of waste mat- ter every twenty-four hours ; and when we consider that this large quantity of vapor is sent forth in so divided a state as to be in- visible, and that it is given out by the very minute blood-vessels of the true slan, we per- ceive at once why these are so extremely numerous that a pin's point cannot touch any spot without piercing them ; and we see a suf- ficient reason why checked perspiration should 164 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. prove so detrimental to health, because, for every twenty-four hours, during which such a state continues, we must either have twenty ounces of useless and hurtful matter accumu- lating in the body, or have some of the other organs of excretion grievously overtasked, which obviously cannot happen without dis- turbing their regularity and well-being. Peo- ple know the fact, and wonder that it should be so, that cold applied to the skin, or con- tinued exposure in a cold day, often produces a bowel complaint, a severe cold in the head or chest, or inflammation of some internal organ ; but were they taught as they ought to be, the structure and uses of their own bodies, they would rather wonder that it did not always produce one of those effects." Dr. Combe traces, in the most interesting way, the connexion between suppressed per- spiration, and the production of individual diseases ; and shows the sympathy which ex- ists between the skin, the bowels, the lungs, the liver, and the kidneys, because they have all one common office to perform, that of throw- ing waste matter out of the system, each in a way peculiar to its own structure ; and I ear- nestly recommend my readers to pursue the subject in his little treatise, if they would learn how to guard themselves from the numer- ous diseases that arise from checked perspira- USE OF PERSPIRATION. 155 tion, and if they would avoid doing from ignorance that which may entail upon them consumption and early death. The second important use of the skin is that of regulating its temperature. Animal heat is constantly generated and constantly expended by our bodies, and it is necessary to life and health that the proper balance should be main- tained between these two processes. During repose, or passive exercise, the surplus heat is carried off by the insensible perspiration from the lungs and skin, and by contact w^ith the colder air ; but when the amount of heat is increased by active exercise or otherwise, an increased expenditure becomes necessary This is effected by the skin and lungs being excited to a higher action, by the latter send- ing out breath loaded with vapor, and the former exhaling its fluid so rapidly as to form sweat. Every one has experienced the sensa- tion of relief from heat, when we pass from a burning, dry skin to a copious perspiration, either in a fever, or in a warm day in summer. Women who do not easily perspire, lose their health when they do the work of a cook in summer ; whilst those who do, can bear the heat of the fire without injury. Franklin first discovered the use of perspiration in carrying off the superfluous heat of the body. 156 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. " The skin exhales most in a warm, dry- atmosphere, because the air then dissolves and carries off the secretion as fast as it is produced ; " and for this reason we can sup- port the heats of summer best when unattended by moisture in the air. The third use of the skin is that of absorb- ing small particles from the air or any other substance in contact with it. The power of absorption is made use of where we rub oint- ment or liniments on the body of a patient, or where, by inoculation, a small portion of infectious matter, inserted under the cuticle, affects the whole system. The process of ab- sorption is carried on by a separate set of exceedingly small and numerous vessels in the skin ; these are always most active in a moist atmosphere, which is the reason why night air is often unwholesome, and why miasma or bad air is peculiarly hurtful in marshy districts, and why warm woollen clothing is more needed in damp weather than dry, even though the temperature should be higher. The insensible perspiration, or animal efflu- via, when it does not pass off into the air, but is fixed and concentrated upon the skin, be- comes an energetic poison, and acts upon the system as such, by means of the absorbent vessels ; hence the danger to the health from want of cleanliness, and the fatal consequences STRUCTURE OF THE SKIN. 157 which have frequently followed the use of water-proof dresses by sportsmen and others. The last of the four uses of the skin which I propose to consider, is that of its being the seat of sensation and touch. If we had no nerves on the surface of our bodies to warn us, by pain, of external injuries, we might serious- ly hurt them without being aware of it. Every part of the true skin is therefore provided with innumerable little filaments from the nerves of sensation, which convey to the mind accurate intelligence of the impressions made upon the body. These sensations would be too acute, if the cuticle were not interposed between the nerves and external objects, as we may observe when any accident removes a portion of the epidermis or scarf-skin ; but, through this insensible outside wrapper, a degree of sen- sibility is preserved which is both useful and agreeable. It is the nervous tissue of the skin, which informs us of the temperature of the bodies around us, and imparts to the mind the sensa- tion of warmth or coldness. In a healthy state, this sensation is a correct index of the real temperature ; but in disease, we often complain of cold and shivering when the skin is positively warmer than usual. In this way, those whose digestion is weak, and whose cir- culation is feeble, complain habitually of cold N 158 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. hands and feet, where others, differently con- stituted, experience no such sensations. Exer- cise dissipates this feeling and increases heat, by exciting the circulation of the blood, throw- ing more of it to the surface, and thereby in- creasing the action of the vessels and nerves of the skin. Some mental emotions operate on the skin, and impair its functions, much in the same way as cold. Grief, fear, and the depressing- passions, by diminishing the afflux of arterial blood, lower the temperature of the skin, ren- der it pale, and at the same time diminish per- spiration and nervous action ; while rage, and other violent passions, by augmenting the af- flux of blood, elevate the temperature of the skin, and give rise to the red flush so charac- teristic of excitement. Facts like these establish a connexion be- tween the brain, and the nervous system, and the skin, which is of great importance in dis- covering the causes of disease, and the means of preserving health ; but the limits of this chapter prevent my pursuing this part of the subject any further. One more remark, however, on the structure of the skin, is necessary to the full under- standing of the means proper to be employed for preserving it in health. In addition to the parts already noticed, there are numerous STRUCTURE OF THE SKIN. 159 small follicles contained in its substance, and opening by orifices at the external surface of the skin, which are filled with an oily matter, this easily concretes and becomes \'isible, in the shape of dust or scales on the skin, and roughness on the hairs of the body. This oily matter is necessary to preserve the skin from being penetrated and relaxed in its fibre by water ; but it is also necessary that it should be removed as fast as it has done its office, and not suffered to accumulate on the skin or clothing. These follicles exist in all parts of the body, except the palms of the hands and soles of the feet, but they are most abundant where hairs are implanted. It is this oil which renders the tresses of some ladies so soft and shining. In some persons it is so redundant on the hair as to require careful removal; in others it is only sufficient to keep it in good order; whilst a deficiency is the cause of that coarse, rough look which prevents some heads from ever appearing well-dressed and smooth. From this sketch of the nature and uses of the skin, slight and imperfect as it is, you can- not fail to perceive that much of your comfort depends upon its being preserved in a healthy state, and that one indispensable condition of its health is perfect cleanliness. When we consider the great extent of surface presented 160 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. by the human body, and the large quantity of matter which it excretes, some of which passes off in the form of vapor whilst other parts are deposited on the skin, we shall see the impor- tance of thorough and oft repeated ablutions. Once at least, in twenty-four hours, the whole surface of the body should be washed in soap and water, and receive the friction of a coarse towel, or flesh-brush, or crash mitten. This may be done by warm or cold bathing ; by a plunging or shower bath ; by means of a com- mon wash-tub, and even without further ac- commodation than an ordinary wash-bowl and sponge. By washing a small part of the person at a time, rubbing it w^ell, and then covering up what is done, the whole may be washed in cold water, even in winter time, and a glow may be produced after it, in a young and healthy person. Let none suppose that because they cannot see any dirt on the skin, it must be perfectly clean. The deposit upon it of the w^aste matter, carried out of the system by in- sensible perspiration, is not easily discovered upon the surface; but if, w^hen you have not bathed for a week, you w^ill rub yourself brisk- ly with a flesh-brush, and then pass your hand over the brush, you will see a quantity of white powder escape from it, and that is noth- ing but the very deposit in question, which ought to be daily removed. INSENSIBLE PERSPIRATION. 161 It may shock the feelings of a young lady, to be told that this large quantity of matter, in the shape of insensible perspiration, which is constantly passing off through the skin, has an individual odor, more or less disagreeable in different persons ; but it is nevertheless true ; and it is by this individuality, that dogs know their owners, and whatever they have touched. Now, each person is so accustomed to his own atmosphere, that he is no judge of its odor ; but since most persons can recollect some one of their friends who affects them disagreeably in this way, all should bear in mind the possi- bility of so offending others ; and though none of us can change the nature of the atmosphere which w^e are always creating around us, we can prevent its becoming a nuisance by the accumulation of excreted matter on the skin or in the clothing ; we can, by washing every part of the skin once in twenty-four hours, be sure of sending ofi' only fresh exhalations. Some parts of the person send off a stronger effluvia than others, and no one can be quite certain of never offending any one's delicate olfactory nerves, whose arm-pits are not sub- jected to a thorough washing with soap and water every day. There the excretions abound , and, being confined from the air by the clothes, they concrete and accumulate very quickly. In warm, moist climates, the whole person N* 11 162 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. should be washed twice in twenty-four hours ; but in cold, dry weather, once will suffice. Some persons avoid the use of soap as perni- cious to the skin ; but good white soap, in mod- erate quantity, and with soft water, can never do any harm to a healthy skin ; and there is no surer way to preserve the complexion from pimples, and roughness, and blotches, than by keeping the whole surface of the body free from the deposits daily made upon it by the insensible perspiration. This may be done by washing in cold water with soap once a day, and a warm hath once a week. Warm bathing is highly useful to the health, and, if properly indulged in, has no debilitating effect. Dr. Combe says, " When it is not too warm, and not prolonged beyond fifteen or twenty min- utes, the tepid bath may be used daily, with perfect safety and advantage, by persons in health." It is common for persons who are in the hab- it of sponging themselves over with cold water every morning, or of taking the shower or plunging bath, to omit it when they have a slight cold, or sore throat, or a touch of rheu- matism ; whereas, if it were properly done, so as to produce a glow all over the skin, their habitual ablutions would be the best remedy for those beginnings of evil. Since checked per- spiration produces such ailments, whatever WARM AND COLD BATHING. 163 tends to open the pores and to increase the action of the skin, will be likely to remove them. If not sure in such a case of producing a glow after the use of cold water, it will be better to use the warm bath, in order to make the skin do its office freely. But to cease your customary bathing at such times, is to in- crease all your difficulties. After this explanation of the nature and uses of the skin, you will more readily un- derstand why, in the chapter on Nursing the Sick, so much is said about cleanliness and ventilation, and in the chapter on Dress, so much stress is laid upon not wearing any thing next the skin that will not wash. In the most civilized nations of Europe, great attention is paid to the health of the skin, and all the arrangements of domestic life include the means of copious and constant bathing. There, it is thought more essential to happi- ness to have a warm and cold bath at com- mand, than to own spacious apartments and costly furniture. Large provision is made for washing in the sleeping-rooms of the English; and travellers are not thought unreasonable if they require more than a quart of water for their morning toilet. The primitive manners of our forefathers (and of the back country at the present day), which required that every one should wash at the pump in the yard, or at 164 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. the sink in the kitchen, were not favorable to cleanliness and health. Those who labor hard with their hands, and lead rugged, out-door lives, can better dispense with daily ablutions of the whole body than the children of ease and luxury ; and yet it is to be feared, that many a young lady who treads on Brussels carpeting, and wipes her hands on damask towelling, does no more daily washing in her china wash-bowl, than does the farmer's daughter at the sink; and the scanty sup- plies of water and towels at the best hotels in the country show, that the travellers who frequent them do not usually require more. If every town and village were well supplied with warm baths at a cheap rate, this defi- ciency in the sleeping-apartments would be of less consequence, as is the case in France; but since this is not the fact, it is to be hoped that travellers will, by calling for tubs and water in abundance, teach the people what is necessary to health and cleanliness. When persons boast how few minutes they require to make their morning toilet, they little think what an unfavorable inference may be drawn from it with regard to their cleanli- ness. It is not possible for persons to wash themselves thoroughly, and attend properly to their hair, teeth, and nails, and put on the simplest dress, in less than half an hour; WARM AND COLD BATHING. 165 and most women will need an hour. There is no merit in making a short and hasty toilet in the morning. An hour is not too much to devote to it ; but, if you have to dress a second and a third time, in the course of the day the less time you give to this the better. Those who spend an hour on their persons in the morning, can dress for a ball in half, or a quarter, of that time ; whereas those who take but ten minutes to dress before breakfast, often waste two or three hours over the eve- ning toilet, doing then, as an extra affair, what ought to be done, as a matter of course, every day. From not attaching sufficient consequence to daily ablutions, the arrangements of a family are often such as to make it very difficult for the grown-up daughters to command the pri- vacy necessary for complete and sufficient washing. Where two or three occupy the same room, without any dressing-room, or closet, large enough to wash in, it is impossible for the toilet to be properly made. A person must be alone and safe from intrusion for a quarter of an hour, every morning, in order to wash thoroughly ; and the heads of families ought to afford every member of them the opportunity of being thus alone. If you are so situated as not to have any privacy in the morning, you 166 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. may perhaps command it at night, when the eyes of younger sisters are closed in sleep, or by retiring a quarter of an hour earlier than an elder sister, in which case you can make your chief ablutions at night instead of morning. The whole surface of your body may be gone over with one large wash-bowl full of water ; and by practice you will become so expert as not to make any slop on the carpet, and thus avoid bringing your ablutions into disrepute with the higher powers. Many think it impossible to make this thorough washing when the weather is very cold and they must do it in rooms never warmed by a fire. But, in healthy and vigo- rous young persons, the glow after washing w^ould be so great as to more than compensate for the momentary chill ; and a warm double- gowm, lined with flannel, would make them comfortable whilst doing up the hair and fin- ishing the rest of the toilet. The bad effects of sleeping in warm rooms is generally allowed; and in avoiding this, parents are apt to refuse their daughters, who are otherwise delicately brought up, the neces- sary accommodation for the performance of a careful toilet in winter. When the house is generally warmed by a furnace or entry-stove, this difficulty is obviated; and w^here it is not, there should be some arrangement by which a THE SKIN CONNECTED WITH THE LUNGS. 167 person, who has taken a cold bath, may dress comfortably after it, and have warmth enough in the fingers to comb and brush her hair properly. If cold bathing is not followed by a glow, it will be prejudicial, and should be changed for the tepid or warm bath. When the skin is in a healthy state, there is an agreeable sensation of warmth throughout the surface of the body ; and, in order to pre- serve it in this state, we must add to perfect cleanliness and daily friction, sufficient and suitable clothing. All the organs of the body have a mutual dependence on each other ; and the connexion between the skin and the lungs is so intimate, that, whenever there is a de- ficient circulation and vitality in the skin, the blood retires from the surface, and becomes too abundant in the lungs, and other organs are overtasked, causing irritation and laying the foundation of incurable diseases. When there- fore, you are habitually troubled with cold feet and hands, or an abiding sense of chilliness, you should attend to it as a w^arning of nature, not to be neglected with impunity. Either the skin requires bathing and friction, or your clothing is insufficient, or you need muscular exertion to raise the temperature of your body. If my limits would allow of my entering as fully into the subject of the uses of the muscles, 168 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. as I have done with regard to the skin, you would see the immense importance of exercise to promote the health of your body and the vigor of your mind. If I could acquaint you with the curious arrangement and distribu- tion of the nerves throughout the body, and show how directly they are affected by the motions of the muscles, in which they are im- bedded, you would know why a walk, taken on compulsion, along a dusty road, or crowded street, without any agreeable aim, does you less good, than exercise combined with pleas- ure. All this is perfectly well explained in Dr. Combe's work already referred to. As girls pass from childhood to womanhood, they are apt to lose their relish for bodily ex- ercise ; and the sedentary habits acquired at school are often continued when they could find time and opportunity for exerciee, if they knew how essential it is to life and health. In hopes of adding something to the convic- tions of the young on this subject, I will briefly describe the grand process of the circulation of the blood, which is going on every moment within us, with a rapidity and precision almost beyond the belief of the unlearned. Will it not surprise you to be told, that the blood in your little finger is changed four thousand five hundred times in every hour ? Can you be- lieve that a quantity of blood, equal to the CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD. 169 whole amount contained in the body, passes twice through the heart every three minutes 1 Yet these are well ascertained facts. That little heart whose pulsations never at- tract your attention, except when accidentally quickened, is carrying on, all unperceived by us, this rapid and extensive circulation, on the regularity of which depend health and life. At each beat, it sends forward two ounces of blood, and there are about seventy-five pulsa- tions in a minute ; it is easy therefore to see that thirty or thirty-five pounds, which is the amount of blood in a common-sized adult, may pass through the heart twice in about three minutes ; that is, once on each side, as it passes to and from the lungs. But the process of cir- culation must be explained a little further in order to understand this. Every part of the body derives its nourish- ment from the blood ; the same portion of blood answers its purpose but a single mo- ment, it must be immediately replaced by a fresh portion, or the organs will want the re- quisite energy to carry them forward in their tasks ; a rapid circulation is therefore neces- sary to supply this food of life. The blood is carried all over the body by innumerable little vessels called arteries, and on its way certain portions of it are expended in the production of various necessary secretions, such as perspi- o 170 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. ration, saliva, bile, the wax in the ear, &c. ; also in promoting the growth of the young, and supplying materials for the growth of par- ticular parts, such as the hair and nails of the adult. All the evacuations of the body are maintained at the expense of a certain amount of blood. This waste in the blood is supplied by the food we take. After passing once through the body, the blood is so changed and deteriorated as to be unfit for further use ; it is therefore returned to the heart, by a separate set of vessels, called veins, and poured in at the right side. Just before this venous blood reaches the heart, the fresh supply of matter called chyle, and formed from the food we eat, is forced into it. The heart then sends this mixture of new and old blood into the lungs, where it is exposed to the action of the air we breathe, and under- goes a chemical change, which again fits the whole mass for circulation. It then returns to the left side of the heart, fit for distribution through the arteries to every part of the body. " Thus the heart carries on two sets of circula- tions by separate systems of vessels, the one from the left side of the heart to every part of the body and back to the right side, and the other from the right side to the lungs and back to the left ; the former having for its object the nutrition of every part and the maintenance of CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD. 171 life; and the latter the restoration of the de- teriorated blood and the change of chyle into blood. '•' As the food cannot become a part of the living animal, or the venous blood regain its lost properties, until they have undergone a change, produced by the air in the lungs, the action of breathing, by which this change is effected, is one of preeminent importance ; and grievous indeed is the ignorance and folly which, for the sake of a fancied beauty of form, lead a young girl so to compress her waist as to prevent the free play of the parts necessary to perfect respiration ; or, for the sake of fash- ionable amusements, to fill the lungs with vi- tiated air, which is not fit to revivify the blood, sent there to meet a fresh and pure atmo- sphere. " The quantity and quaJity of the blood have a most direct and material influence upon the condition of every part of the body. If the quantity sent to the arm, for example, be dimin- ished by tying the artery through which it is conveyed, the arm, being then imperfectly nourished, wastes away. In like manner, when the quality of that fluid is impaired by deficien- cy of food, bad digestion, impure air, or im- perfect change of the blood in the lungs, the whole body becomes more or less disorder- ed. Thus, in consumption, death takes place 172 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. chiefly in consequence of respiration not being sufficiently perfect to admit of the formation of proper blood in the lungs. It has been said that the pressure, occasioned by corsets and tight belts, has so diminished the powers of young females to inhale air, that the quan- tity taken in at one respiration is only about half what young men of the same age are capable of; and we all know how many more women than men die of consumption. As we were intended by our Creator for a life of ac- tivity, all the functions of the body are con- trived to fit us for this object ; and they never go on well, for any length of time, unless there is a regular exercise of all our organs. It is accordingly curious to observe the admirable manner in which each is linked in its action and sympathies with the rest. The principal blood-vessels in all parts of the body lie im- bedded among muscles for both the protection and aid which the latter afford them. Every contraction of the muscles compresses the di- ameter of the vessels, and as the blood in them cannot go back, it is propelled in the arteries from the heart towards the extremities, and in the veins from the extreme parts to the heart ; this quickens the circulation of the blood and enables the parts to which it is sent, to act with greater energy and effect, and the aug- mented action is attended by correspondent CIRCULATION OF THE BLOOD. 173 waste and exhalation. To replenish the blood thus exhausted of its nutritive parts, a greater quantity of food is required ; and to prompt us to attend to this condition, the appetite be- comes keener, and the powers of digestion pro- portionally vigorous. The food taken, is more speedily converted into chyle, and added to the great current of blood pouring into the heart on its way to the lungs ; that this mixed current may be there more speedily animalized, respir- ation becomes deeper and more frequent, thus admitting a larger quantity of air and freer circulation through them than before; and the blood thus renewed and reendowed with the principle of life, imparts new vigor and fresh nutriment to all the organs of the body, and fits them for that active exertion which the proper discharge of all the duties of life re- quires from every member of the human race. " We may now see the use of that hurried breathing, and quicker palpitation of the heart, which we are apt to complain of as evils, when we climb a hill, or run up many steps, or make any unusual muscular exer- tion. Without the increased action of the heart and lungs, the blood would not be suf- ficient, or of the proper quality, to support the muscular action. " Seeing, therefore, how the whole econo- my of our bodies is calculated for constant o* 174 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. muscular exertion, we may judge better of the evil consequences likely to ensue from a deficiency of such exercise. The circulation, from want of stimulus, becomes languid, espe- cially in the vessels of the extremities, (pro- ducing cold hands and feet 5) this feebleness of action occasions little waste of materials, the appetite and digestion consequently be- come weak, respiration heavy and imperfect, and the blood in such a bad state, that, when distributed through the body, it cannot give the requisite stimulus for healthy, vigorous action, and disease shows itself in some of those forms common to persons of sedentary habits." Among those who are convinced of the importance of exercise, some consider the time which it requires a serious objection to it ; but if such would narrowly observe their own feelings, they would find that the in- creased vigor obtained by exercise, more than compensated for the loss of time, by enabling them to accomplish more in what is left. Others think that they can do without regular exercise in the open air, because for a time they can neglect it with impunity ; but let such persons study the structure of their own bodies, only so far as it is ex- plained in these pages, and they must see that nature will not be cheated out of her EXERCISE. 176 rights. When some accidental cause of in- disposition arises, there will, in such subjects, be a general feebleness of body sufficient to convert it into serious disease. Many a cold, which would be thrown off easily by a per- son in the daily habit of walking and bath- ing, becomes the source of consumption and early deaih, where the patient has led a se- dentary life, and neglected to preserve the skin in an active and healthy state. Dr. Combe says, that " to render exercise as beneficial as possible, it ought always to be taken in the open air, and to be of a nature to occupy the mind as well as body. Social play and active sports are infinitely preferable to regular and unmeaning walks, and tend in a much higher degree to develope and strengthen the bodily frame, and to se- cure a straight spine, and an erect, firm, easy, and graceful carriage. A formal walk is odious and useless to many girls who would be delighted as well as benefited by spending two or three hours a day in spirited exer- cise." There are some games which might be played in the open air by grown-up young ladies with great propriety, if arrangements were made for the purpose ; and it is to be hoped that the time will come when every gentleman's seat in the country will be fur- 176 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH nished with the means of out-door exercise for ladies, such as bowling-alleys with lighter and smaller balls to suit their little hands, troco-grounds, quoits, bows and arrows for ar- chery, bowls, &c. In stormy weather, the first of these games might be played un- der cover with a free admission of air, and prove an excellent substitute for out-door exercise. Battledoor, the graces, and skip- ping-rope, are also very useful, as, by bring- ing the arms into play, they exercise the lungs. If, instead of sitting a whole morn- ing over your books and work, you would jump up at the end of every hour or two and play the graces, or skip the rope, for five or ten minutes, it would greatly help to keep your circulation brisk and healthy, and with daily walks might prove sufficient exercise. Riding on horseback is a very beneficial mode of exercising ; and, where the lungs are weak, it is much better than walking, as it does not hurry the breathing. Besides this, it calls into play a greater number of mus- cles, and is very exhilarating to the spirits. Rowing a light boat with small oars is ex- cellent sport and exercise too, for the young and healthy, and may be indulged in very properly on a safe and retired piece of water. Fishing is often recommended as good for calling into play the muscles of the arms and EXERCISE. 177 chest, as well as those of the lower limbs ; but it ought to be so repugnant to the feelings of a humane and delicate young woman, to make a pleasure of torturing and killing those pretty, harmless creatures, that I cannot tol- erate the practice, much less recommend it. Walking is, after all, the kind of exercise most easily practised, and the easiest mode of preserving health. It agrees with almost everybody, and, if combined with some daily exercise of the muscles of the arms and chest, and some agreeable object, will answer the purpose very well. Those who live in cities and large villages can generally unite some pleasant visit, or some necessary business, with their daily walks ; and the sense of ac- complishing some little affair that was on the mind, as a thing to be done, adds much to the pleasure, and consequently to the benefit of a walk. In the country, where such objects are wanting, the study of mineralogy or bot- any will add an interest to your walks, that will render them highly salubrious, and beguile you into spending many more hours in the open air than you would otherwise do. Your walking-dress should be such as will allow free play of the arms. All exercise, to be useful, should be habit- ual ; and after it has been, from any cause, in- terrupted for a time, the return to active habits, 12 178 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. should be gradual. Great evils have ensued from a disregard to this rule. When the fine weather of spring bursts upon young persons, who have led a sedentary life all winter, and been confined a great deal in warm rooms, it tempts them to take long walks and rides on horseback, to which they are wholly unfitted by their previous habits ; and not a season passes, in which health is not more or less impaired by this injudicious treatment of the body. All changes in diet and clothing, also, ought to be gradual. Some persons are made ill by the fresh fruits and vegetables of spring, only because they partake too largely of them at first ; some believe that walking or riding does not agree with them, because, when in- dulged in rashly and without previous train- ing, it has caused them serious indisposition. But there are few persons who, by beginning with walking half a mile out and back again, and adding a quarter of a mile every day, could not in a fortnight walk six or eight miles without inconvenience. Any who will fairly try this gradual increase of exercise, will be astonished at the power it developes. The time at which exercise is taken, is another point of great importance. Persons in perfect health may venture to take it at any time, except after a hearty meal ; but how EXERCISE. 179 few there are, who can flatter themselves that they belong to that class. All who do not, had better take their walks in the forenoon, about two hours after breakfast, and be- fore there is any exhaustion felt from want of the next meal. It requires considerable vigor to walk with advantage before break- fast ; and those who wish to inure themselves to it, should begin very gradually, and not let their first experiment be some very long ex- cursion on May morning. Your daily w^alk should not be so prolonged or delayed as to bring you home tired, just before dinner. When you are tired, your stomach will be so too, and your food will oppress you. And when you are not fatigued by your exercise, it is better to allow an hour to repose before eating. This rule is observed with respect to horses ; they are never allowed to feed imme- diately after work ; and shall we take less care of our own health than of theirs ? Exercise immediately after a full meal is equally to be avoided, and for the same reason, namely, muscular action causes an afflux of blood and nervous energy to the surface of the body, and w^ithdraws it from the stomach; if, therefore, you eat directly after w^alking, you tax the stomach when it is not prepared for action ; time should be allowed for a change in the distribution of the vital powers to take 180 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. place ; when also you walk after a full meal, you withdraw those powers from the stomach, and leave it unfit for the process of digestion. Where circumstances oblige you to exercise directly after a meal, you should make it a light one. It is on this account, that abstemiousness is so necessary to travellers. Invalids travel much more comfortably on a low diet, than on a full one, when obliged to keep continually in motion. Some persons think to economize time, by going out for a walk at the close of day, when they can no longer see to employ them- selves in-doops ; but this is a great mistake ; the air is less salubrious, and you lose the beneficial stimulus from solar light j besides which yoQ have had less vigor of mind and body all day for not taking your exercise early. If walking does not produce a general glow, and warm your hands and feet, it fails in a great measure of its intended effect, and the cause of this failure should be carefully sought. It may be that you do not wear sufficiently warm clothing, or your skin may not be in a healthy condition, or your corset may be so tight as to impede your breathing deep inspir- ations; your arm-holes may be so small, as to prevent the free motion of the arms, and your shoes may cramp your feet ; in all which cases COLD EXTREMfTlES. 181 you can hardly escape cold extremities. But if you suffer this inconvenience when warmly clad, w4th all your clothes comfortably loose, walking fast and breathing freely, you had better try some stronger exercise, such as dancing or riding on horseback. Never be satisfied with your plan of life, until you are capable of a daily glow to your fingers' ends from moderate exercise. No one can be per- fectly well, whose feet and hands are habitually cold. Months may elapse without your finding out that any thing ails you; but the day of reckoning will come at last, and you will pay the forfeit due to nature, for breaking her laws. In very cold weather, it is well to accumu- late a little heat by sitting a few minutes in a warm room with your wrappings on before going out ; but on returning from your walk, in a fine glow, it is better not to enter a warm room, until you have taken off your extra clothing. Exercise of the arms is particularly useful to the lungs, and may be taken daily to great ad- vantage, in the way of hoase-work. But the lungs ought to be directly exercised also by means of the voice. Reading aloud in a clear tone, with proper emphasis and cadence, re- quires the varied activity of most of the mus- cles of the trunk to a degree, of wliirh few p 182 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. are conscious, till their attention is turned to it. The fatigue of reading aloud and reciting is much lessened by learning to manage the voice properly, and by never exhausting the lungs, but taking breath frequently. Singing, too, when indulged in moderately and regularly, is likely to strengthen rather than injure healthy lungs j where there are symptoms of disease in that organ, the use of the voice should be reg- ulated by your medical adviser. Laughter is a very useful exercise of the lungs, and may be freely indulged, in proper place and time. Having taken a brief survey of the uses of the skin, the heart, and the lungs, it now re- mains to notice the stomach and its office of digestion, on which depends that supply of nutriment, which is to make up for the per- petual waste that is going on in every part of the system. To reasoning man is given the dangerous privilege of choosing his food, unaided by those instincts which direct the lower orders of animals ; and in this, as in other things, he has often abused his freedom, and made his ingenuity an instrument of destruction. In the progress of society, from the life of the savage hunter to that of the pampered gour- mand, cookery has become a very complicated process, and the science of srastronomy has DIGESTION. 183 been pursued till it has changed the natural and wholesome uses of things to that which is most unnatural and noxious ; it has destroyed the health of thousands, and caused it to be said, that "men dig their graves with their teeth." It is to be hoped that a still further advance in civilization will correct these evils, and that the science of cookery will become the means of our finding, on every table, the most wholesome as well as palatable dishes. The circumstance of a learned physician and philosopher having written a book on cookery * is a favorable indication ; his work is intended to correct many prevalent errors, and, though written for a state of society to be found only in the most luxurious countries of the old world, it contains many good hints suited to republi- can America, and is written with so much spirit and humor, particularly the Preface and Intro- duction, as to be highly amusing as well as in- structive. All sorts of comparisons have been insti- tuted, to illustrate the nature and uses of the stomach ; some have likened it to a grist-mill, others to a stew-pan j it has been called a fermenting vat, and a laboratory. But the stomach is like none of those things ; it is a most curious and delicate organ, carrying on a * « The Cook's Oracle " by Dr. Kitchener. 184 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. hidden process by mechanical, chemical, and living means, and " so susceptible of impres- sions made upon it by substances that are put into it, that it seems more like a nervous ex- pansion from the brain, than a mere receptacle for food." To make a proper use of this deli- cate organ, and derive the full benefit of what we eat, we must have our meals at regular in- tervals, they must be composed of light and nourishing materials, three-fourths vegetables, and these must be cooked in the best manner, and eaten slowly ; every mouthful must be well chewed before it is sw^allowed ; no liquid must be taken till we have nearly done eating, and then in a very small quantity, such as half the contents of a common-sized tumbler, or, in warm weather, somewhat more. After each meal we should remain quiet for a while, and nothing should be eaten between meals. Now, in order to understand the reason why these rules are necessary to the preservation of health, I must explain what is known of the process of digestion. There is formed in the stomach a liquid, called gastric juice, which has a solvent power, and acts upon the food in such a manner as to convert it into a pulp called chyme, and give it new properties, which fit it to be applied to the purposes of nutrition. But, in order to prepare the food for being thus operated upon, it must DIGESTION. 185 be triturated by the teeth, and mixed with saliva, which is made to flow freely into the mouth by the act of chewing ; when this is neglected, tasks are imposed upon the stomach which do not belong properly to it, and which often delay and derange its functions. Besides this chemical and life-giving change, produced by the gastric juice, there is a mechanical ac- tion going on in the stomach, by which the food is arranged in a particular manner ; that which is first prepared is lifted up and pushed out of the orifice at the top of the stomach, into what are called the smaller intestines, where it is mixed with fluids, poured out upon it by two neighbouring organs, the liver and pancreas. Soon after its mingling with these, a separation takes place between that part which is capable of nourishing the body, and that which is not. The former, under the name of chyle, is absorb- ed by certain vessels, called lacteals, which col- lect and transfer the chyle into a common trunk, by which it is carried up to the top of the chest, and poured into the vein w^hich passes near the left shoulder and enters the heart on the left side, as already described ; there the chyle mingles with the blood, on its return from the extremities, and becomes an- imalized with it, by a passage through the air vessels of the lungs. The residue of the chyme, which is not nutritious, remains in the canal. 186 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH is carried downward, changes its character, and is at length discharged from the body. As the average time required for the digest- ing of a moderate meal is four hours, and it takes two more for it to pass the smaller intes- tines and be ready for absorption, it is neces- sary that there should be an interval of six hours, at least, between our meals, in order that the stomach may be emptied and rested, before its powers are again called into use. Eating in the intervals between regular meals disturbs and delays the process of digestion ; and, in weak stomachs, it will stop it altogether. Whenever, therefore, your food oppresses you, and you have a long and labored digestion, you should omit the next meal, and so give the stomach time to recover itself. It is an old maxim that the sick and feeble should eat little and often; *' this maxim," says a distinguished physician, " has killed more than the sword." This may be too strongly stated ; but all med- ical men agree, that eating at too short inter- vals is one of the most fruitful sources of disease, and should be especially avoided by those in feeble health. Nothing can be more contrary to common sense, than the practice of swallowing large draughts at the beginning of a meal ; to drink at all, before eating, is peculiar to our country In Europe the business of helping to, and eat FOOD. 187 ing solid food, goes on for a considerable time, before any one thinks of drinking ; and the last fashion in England is to omit tumblers altogeth- er, and have only wine-glasses on the table, which, as a symptom of diminished draught, may be considered an improvement ; and if the wine-glasses were used for water only, it would be a still greater progress in civilization. Persons who do not chew their food proper- ly, and thereby obtain saliva enough to moisten the mouthful, are very much given to drinking frequently at dinne»r, as it is only by wetting the morsel with their beverage that they can bolt it unchewed. But it makes the greatest difference to the stomach, whether the food comes into it, reduced to a pulp, and properly mixed with saliva, or whether it comes un- broken, and wet with some foreign liquid. In the first case, the gastric juice takes hold of it readily ; in the latter, it is forced into a task not intended for it by its Creator. To begin with drinking is at once to dilute the gastric juice, and render it less fit to take hold of the solid food. To drink copiously, either before or after eating, makes the con- tents of the stomach too moist, and the busi- ness of digestion is necessarily delayed till all the superfluous liquid is removed from the stomach; and thus a double task is imposed upon that organ. 188 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. Eating too fast, is another cause of indiges- tion. It operates in two ways ; first, by send- ing the food down imperfectly chewed ; and secondly, by causing us to eat more than we really want. The sensation of hunger is produced by the presence of gastric juice in the stomach with- out any thing to operate upon ; it is appeased by giving that solvent fluid something to do ; but, as it requires a little time for it to take hold of the food, if you hurry down the whole contents of your plate in ton minutes, you may take more than enough to satisfy the natural appetite, and so overload your stomach before you are aware of it ; whereas, by eating very slowly, chewing your food well, and pausing between whiles, you give the gastric juice time to act upon the food already swallowed, and can better judge when you have taken enough. People often complain of the rules given by physicians as too strict, too artificial, and think the natural appetite may be safely taken as a guide. And so it might, if your food was al- ways of the most wholesome kind, and cooked in the plainest manner; if you confined your- self to one kind of meat, and one of vegetables, for your dinner, and to plain bread for the other meals ; provided too, that you ate very slowly, and at sufficiently long intervals for FOOD. 189 your stomach to be entirely emptied and rest- ed, before you tasked it afresh. It is the artificial manner in which food is prepared, tempting the palate to overload the stomach, that makes so many rules necessary, and so much self-command requisite. Every luxurious table is a scene of temptation, which it requires fixed principles and an enlightened mind to withstand. One w^ould suppose that the mistresses of families and their cooks were in league to destroy the health of those for whom they provide. First comes the plain- er kinds of food, as meat and vegetables at dinner, and bread and toast at other meals; with the former are given certain condiments, in the way of sauces, mustard, pepper, &c., in order to tempt you beyond your appetite for sim- ple flavors ; then follows a succession of more delicate viands, such as pies, custards, tarts, jellies, and all the tempting dishes used in second courses, with perhaps a desert of dried fruits, which are the hardest of all to digest. At the tea-table, hot cakes are followed by preserves and sweet cakes of various flavors, and these are pressed upon you by the mistress of the feast, as if she thought your well-being depended upon your eating of every delicacy on her table; whereas, a truer regard for your good would prevent her urging these things 190 MEANS OF TRESERVLXG HEALTH. upon you, if custom obliged her to provide them. Nothing can be more seducing to the appe- tite, than this arrangement of the viands which compose a feast ; as the stomach is filled, and the natural desire for food subsides, the palate is tickled by more delicate and relishing dish- es, till it is betrayed into excess ; the stomach is overloaded, digestion goes on laboriously, and the whole system sympathizes in the hard task. Heaviness of mind, languor of body, headaches, feverish and restless nights, gener- ally follow such deviations from the laws of our being ; and, when frequently repeated, they produce the long catalogue of diseases which are so prevalent among the luxurious classes of society. It would be better for the health, if this order were reversed, and we partook of the dainties first ; the stomach would deal better with them when empty, and we should be in far less danger of eating too much, if the plainest food were served last. The most approved mode of treating children now, is to give them their piece of cake first, and then, to let them satisfy their appetites with bread; and the same arrangement would be equally salutary for those of a larger growth. Happy is it for those w^hose childhood has been guided by enlightened parents, and who then formed a habit of simple living Happy DRINK. 191 they, who are used to drink nothing stronger than water w^ith their dinner, and that in very- moderate quantities; who have a fixed habit of dining on one dish of meat, and one or two of vegetables ; whose stomachs are never filled wath trash between meals ; and who can deny their palates what they know to be unfit for the stomach. As they grow older and wiser, they will appreciate such a bringing up; but it is to be feared, that, in this day of un- limited indulgence, there are few who have to thank their parents for any such habits. For those, then, who have grown up without any such aid from others, it is extremely im- portant that they should learn to understand the laws w^hich govern their bodies, and form rules for themselves which shall enable them to preserve their health from injury, amid all those petty temptations, w-hich become for- midable from their frequent recurrence, and w^hich are perpetually pressed upon them by the example and precept of those, who, though suf- fering themselves from similar indulgence, are wholly unaw^are of the cause. Most young persons in this country drink water at various times through the day, partic- ularly in the summer season; and would think it very unreasonable in any one to wish them to abstain from it. Yet the best judges w^ill tell you it is altogether superfluous, and really 192 MEANS 01 PRESERVING HEALTH. injurious. The habit is generally formed at school, where the restlessness produced by long confinement makes any excuse for moving de- sirable, and therefore the scholars leave their seats frequently to get a draught from the ves- sel of water, kept ready for them at one end of the school-room. This habit, once formed, ap- pears like a necessity of nature, and persons go through life, slaves to this superfluous want. In an academy of New England, the precep- tor happened to be wise enough to see the folly of this practice, and he began his adminis- tration by refusing to have any water in the school-room. Such an unheard-of innovation nearly caused a rebellion in the school ; but, as the same w^isdom which forbade the water, made unusual provision for the restlessness of the children, and granted them many new in- dulgences, the master's whim about drinking was submitted to ; and, at the end of a week, the pupils allowed that they no longer felt any thirst, and did as well without drinking any water, as when gallons were consumed in a day. Thirst is a dryness in the throat, occa- sioned by the secretions there not being as abundant as usual, and this would be more surely corrected by a little warm liquid, sipped slowly, or by chewing a piece of hard biscuit, than by pouring down cold water, which, if it relieves you for a moment, increases the feel- DRINK. 193 ing of dryness afterward, and rather hinders than promotes the sensation which would ef- fectually remove the thirst. I have it under the hand of one of the first physicians of our day, that " man is one of those animals which require very little drink. His ordinary food contains nearly liquid enough to supply the necessities of his system, whilst the function of digestion is impeded and interrupted by copious draughts, either at or between meals." Even a little drink, taken frequently, has the same disturbing influence that a little food has, taken out of season, and should be avoided as an idle and pernicious habit. The laboring man, who sweats profusely, may be allowed to drink more freely ; but ladies, who undergo no hard toil, or exposure to a hot sun, are better with- out those frequent draughts. Some delicate girls are oppressed by the third meal in the day, who get over the two first very well; and they vary their solid food, to ascertain what it is that disagrees with them ; when if they would only omit their second cup of tea, all would be well with them. The too common practice of visiting confec- tioners' shops in the morning-walk, and eating there a variety of sweet-meats and pastry, has ruined the health of thousands. If ever you are tempted to such an indiscretion, let Q 13 194 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. your luncheon of sweets serve you instead of a dinner, and eat no more that day, till your stomach is entirely emptied of those contents w^hich are so difficult of digestion. A person whose general health is good, can cure any slight derangement of the stomach by total abstinence; and it is much better to re- frain from food than to take medicine. The habit of dosing yourself with soda and pepper- mint, when you have eaten imprudently ; or with bitters, to procure an appetite ; or Ro- chelle powders to assist the bowels, is all bad for the health, very bad. A well-regulated diet and proper exercise will prevent the necessity of any of these nostrums ; and when an excess has been accidentally committed, omit the next meal, and that will generally cure you. It seems almost superfluous, in these days of temperance, to say any thing to the softer sex against the use of ardent spirits and fer- mented liquors ; but, as the subject of preserv- ing the health would be incomplete without it, and as the delicate frames of women have their peculiar temptations, I cannot dismiss the topic of diet without saying that it is the opinion of the wisest and best physicians, that all young persons are better without any stimulating li- quors, and that it is a great mistake to resort to them, as a cure for those nervous and debilitat- DRINK. 195 ing diseases, which have their origin in seden- tary habits, hot rooms, tight lacing, late hours, improper diet, want of bathing, &c. The tem- porary relief, gained by a glass of wine, or cordial, is dearly paid for, by increased debility after the first effect passes off; and the most refined and intellectual women are not safe, if they pursue this course, from becoming a bur- den to themselves, and the shame of all con- nected with them. It is therefore best to form a habit of drinking no fermented liquors, unless recommended by a physician, and to take no tonics, unless so prescribed. Having said so much about the stomach, I fear you may suppose, that I wish you to be continually watching its functions, and thinking after every meal how you are digesting it; but nothing can be farther from my intention. In order to judge rightly, we must know a great many facts. Some of these I have here pre- sented to you, in order that you may draw^ your own conclusions, and lay down general rules for the government of your appetite ; when you have made your plan and formed your habits on enlightened principles, I would have you dismiss all thoughts of your stomach and its functions from your mind, and never think of it again, till some accidental disturbance obliges you to do so, and then your rule of abstinence will come to your aid. 196 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. No one can make rules for another as to the articles of diet which will agree with her. To the healthy, all things naturally eaten are whole- some, if taken at proper times, and in mode- rate quantities ; those who are oppressed by their food, must find out for themselves what agrees best with them and what causes disturb- ance. When once you have ascertained clearly that a certain kind of food disagrees w4th you, avoid it resolutely ; for there is no more despi- cable folly, than that of indulging your palate at the expense of your health. Do not even suffer your politeness to betray you into an in- discretion of this sort ; but let your reasonable self-denial be proof against the unreasonable importunity of those, who show their hospital- ity by making war upon the health of their friends. I cannot dismiss this part of my subject, without a few observations on the importance of a daily evacuation of the bowels. The practice of taking medicine to effect this should be avoided ; but no pains should be spared in regulating the diet and exercise, so as to obtain it. If all mothers made a point of establishing regular habits in childhood, it would not be necessary to notice the subject here ; but, knowing how carelessly most young persons treat the subject, and that some even consider it a piece of refinement and a privi- CONSTIPATION. 197 lege not to pay daily attention to this func- tion of the body, I feel it incumbent upon me to point out the evil consequences of such a course. It may startle some who thus neglect them- selves, to know that they carry in their face the proof of their bad habits ; and that a med- ical man has said, he could distinguish, in a large company, all those girls who were inat- tentive to their health in this particular. He says he knows them by the state of their com- plexions, and he longs to remonstrate with them on the impolicy, if not the sin, of so mal- treating their systems and spoiling their good looks. To those who have right views of the subject, there is something the very reverse of refinement in such conduct ; and young ladies would certainly avoid it, if they were aware of all the consequences. Besides the indirect injury to the health, and consequently to the beauty, of all, it has a direct effect unfavorable to the complexion; it also makes the breath offensive, and sometimes affects the whole at- mosphere of a person ; it is, moreover, a frequent cause of eruptions of the skin. If this be not already your mortifying experience, let me persuade you to comply with the laws of your being, before you find it is too late, before you have felt the (hastening which will sooner or later follow their infringement. 198 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. A great deal has been said and written, by medical men, against the unhealthy practice of tight lacings but, it is to be feared, with very little effect. So long as gentlemen admire small waists, and praise those figures the most, which approach the nearest to the shape of a wasp, or an hour-glass, it is in vain to tell young ladies, that the practice is destructive of health, and that there is no real beauty in the small dimensions at which they are aiming. The taste of the lords of creation must be rec- tified, and then the evil w^ill correct itself. Let medical men, let painters and sculptors teach young men that all such unnatural compression of the body is deformity ; let Grecian models of beauty be studied, till the shape of a mod- ern belle shall no longer command admiration. Let mothers, too, make a stand against this general perversion of the uses of the body; let them keep their daughters without corsets, until they have attained their full develope- ment of figure, and then it would be impossible for half the mischief to be done that now is ; for, by beginning whilst the bones are soft and pliable, the lower ribs can be compressed into half their natural dimensions. I have been assured by a girl, shaped like an hour-glass, that she did not lace tight ; and have been called to witness, that she was of the same size without, as with, her corset. The TIGHT LACING. 199 case is plain, nature has been completely overruled, early tight lacing has produced a permanent deformity, and the space in which the lungs play has been reduced for ever to those narrow bounds. Few girls are aware of the force they employ when they lace their corsets; the mode of doing it deceives them; it is so easy to gain inch by inch of that treacherous silken cord, that they are not conscious of the effect they are producing ; whereas if they were obliged to fasten their corsets by buttoning them in front, they would soon find out how tight they are. Let me beg my young friends to mistrust themselves on this subject, and to refrain from tightening their laces even as much as they can with ease. Another fruitful source of pain and distor- tion is wearing tight shoes. A celebrated sur- geon of the present day has said, that it is the rarest thing to find a foot, the bones of which have not been injured by this practice. He says, the foot is constructed on the princi- ple of a double arch, one lengthwise and the other crosswise ; when the foot is raised, the ends of the arches contract ; when it is on the ground, and the weight of the body rests upon it, they expand, and the arches become nearly flat ; and unless there is, in the shoe, ample room for this expansion, some part of the deU- 200 MEANS OF PRESERVING HEALTH. cate structure must be injured. The frequent complaints we hear of inflammation and pain in the joints, are occasioned by shoes made too tight to allow this necessary play of the foot; all the misery of corns is produced in the same way ; and much of the bad walking we see, is referable to the same cause. Now this practice is doubly foolish, because it not only produces much bodily suffering, but it misses of the object for which that severe penalty is incurred. However pretty we may think little feet, there is no beauty in a large one cram- med into a shoe too small for it. The moment a shoe looks stuffed, and the instep seems to be running over it, the size of the foot is more apparent than it would be in a larger shoe ; the aim of the wearer is defeated, and the tor- ture is borne in vain. Shoes that are too narrow, make the foot look like something rolled up and stuffed into them; they destroy all form and comeliness, and render the step tottering, as if the soles of the feet were round instead of flat. Young ladies think every- thing of size, and nothing of form, in dressing their feet ; but this is a great mistake. If a person has a large foot, it may be well shaped, and will look better in a shoe that contains it comfortably, than when pressed out of all shape, and showing that it is -crowded into one too small for it. What so disfigures a foot, as TIGHT SHOES. 201 a large toe-joint growing out ? And yet this deformity is constantly produced by wearing shoes too short. When disease and distortion have been induced by tight shoes, the beauty of a foot is gone; and the bad style of walking, occasioned by suffering, continues long after the wearer has been obliged to abandon the practice of cramping her feet. Now, if, in addition to all these reasons against wearing tight shoes, a more correct taste prevailed as to the dimensions of feet, we might hope to see the practice abandoned. Our predilections in this particular savour a little of the barbarism of the Chinese. The roasters of Grecian art did not so regard the subject; their models of beauty prove that free scope was allowed to the foot, and that its perfection depended on its shape and propor- tion to the rest of the figure, and not on its absolute smallness. The foot of the Venus de Medicis is much larger than any modern belle would approve ; it is about double the width of the sole of a French slipper; and distorted indeed would be any statue, modelled after the proportions allowed to the feet of the fair ladies that parade Broadway. 202 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. CHAPTER VIII. Behaviour to Parents and their Friends. Irreverence common. — Beauty of Reverence. — Sympathy with Parents. — Treatment of Elderly Friends. — Anecdote. Having premised, that I write this little volume for those who have been morally and religiously brought up, it will be thought need- less here to insist on the grave duties which belong to the filial relation ; it may be said that exhortations to these are learned in the Bible, conned in the spelling-book, set forth in every work addressed to youth, and heard so frequently from the pulpit and the elbow-chair, that no one can err from want of knowledge. o Whence comes it, then, that there is so little demonstration of respect, in the manners of the rising generation, toward the authors of their being ? Wha^- can the state oi feeling be, when the language to a parent is such, as would be scarcely tolerable when addressed to a young companion ? Is it compatible with fil- ial reverence, flatly to contradict a father, to laugh at a mother's ways, to reply to a grave question jocosely, without giving the informa- tion required, to interrupt parents in the midst of speaking, to oppose their opinions in a tone IRREVERENCE COMMON. 203 of self-confidence, implying that your judg- ment is quite as good as theirs, or to leave the room whilst they are still addressing you ? Yet all these things are continually done by girls, who, if questioned on the state of their feelings towards their father or mother, would say, they loved and respected them, and would not do anything to give them pain. Is the defect, then, one of manners merely ? Is this only a vibration to the opposite extreme of that formality, which, two generations back, prevented young persons from opening their lips, unnecessarily, in the presence of their pa- rents, and made them rise and courtesy every time their fathers entered the room ? It is to be hoped it is so, and that, the two extremes having now been fully tried, a just medium may ere long be established, and that the rude familiarity, now so conspicuous, will be laid aside and become as obsolete as the sense- less formality of the last century. The present state of manners, though not the best possible, has one advantage over that which preceded it; it is more favorable to a confidential intercourse between children and parents than was the starched demeanor of our forefathers ; but there might be a much greater infusion of respect, without any dimi- nution of confidence ; indeed filial love can never exist, in perfection, unless it be founded 204 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. on a deep sentiment of reverence; and where that has not been well cultivated in childhood, it is soon frittered entirely away, by habitual indulgence in the disrespect, flippancy, and rude familiarity, already noticed. The sentiment of reverence is one of the noblest attributes of the human mind ; to its exercise, God has affixed an exquisite sense of enjoyment; it operates, in a thousand ways, to elevate and embellish the character. Its first developement is in the feelings of a child for its parents, and this is the natural preparation of the mind for its rise to a higher object, even to the Father in heaven. As the understand- ing ripens, and this sentiment is cultivated, it embraces all that is great and good among men, all that is vast and magnificent in nature and in art; shedding over the character of its possessor an indescribable grace, softening the very tones of the voice, and rendering it im- possible for the manners to be wanting in deference and courtesy towards parents, or teachers, or the aged of any description. Where the sentiment of reverence is defi- cient, a foundation is wanting for many grace- ful superstructures ; and the defect shows itself in various ways, of which the irreverent are little aware, or they would endeavour to supply the deficiency, as a mere matter of taste, if not of principle. Such persons will have unpJeas- BEAUTY OF REVERENCE. 205 ant manners which no rules of good breeding will correct ; and as the irreverent state of feel- ing grows by indulgence in disrespectful de- meanor, they are in danger of becoming bold, reckless, and even impious. You whom I address are yet young ; what- ever may have been your education, you are yet young enough to reeducate yourselves ; you have hearts capable of being touched by the beautiful, the true, the sublime; you fee' reverence for God and the things that belong to religion ; but you have not perhaps consid- ered how the same sentiment is connected with other relations in life. In all the great moral authors whom you have read, you have found filial piety, and reverence for the aged, treated as indispensable qualities in a virtuous charac- ter, whether heathen or Christian ; but you may never have reflected on the indications which you give of the want of it in your own If then your conscience tells you that you are guilty of those faults of manner, which I have described as but too common in our society, you may be sure that your feelings of reverence need quickening and cultivating ; and if you would escape becoming the harsh, ungraceful character which grows out of such delinquency, you must reform your manners. It is to be feared, that some young ladies think themselves excused from the duty of filial 206 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. reverence, because they are more highly edu- cated than their parents ; they have more knowledge, more refinement, and therefore they may dictate, contradict, and set up their judgments in opposition to their fathers' and mothers'. But this is a great mistake ; no superiority of culture can change the relation of child and parent, or annul the duties that grow out of it. The better your education has been, the more cause for gratitude to those who have procured for you this blessing ; the higher the culture, the more you are bound to per- form well all the duties of life ; the greater your refinement, the more perfect should be your manners towards your parent; the more your influence is needed in the family, the more important it is, that you should not impair it, by such faults as the uneducated can judge of, as w^ell as the most cultivated. There is besides a great meanness in turning against your parents the weapons which their kind- ness has put in your hands. The acquirements of their children often make parents feel their own deficiencies very painfully ; and nothing but the most respectful behaviour, on the part of the offspring, can lessen the mortification, and convince them that, apart from all such adventitious circumstances, they have undenia- ble claims to the love and reverence of their children. SYMPATHY WITH PARENTS. 207 Nothing can justify the want of respect in the manners of children to parents, of pupils to teachers, of the young to the aged ; not even faiills of character in the individuals claiming ,• li deference and regard. It is due to your- >*if to treat the relation with respect, and the iiiore perfectly proper your manners are, the gnattr will be your influence. "inhere is nothing in the whole circle of do- mestic relations so lovely, so pure, so honorable to both parties, as the respectful, affectionate, and confidential intercourse of some young women with their parents. So much of safety and happiness is gained by being open and confidential with the natural guardians of your youth, that it is worth while to make some sacrifices to it of momentary repugnance and fastidiousness of taste. A young lady of my acquaintance, kept her parents ignorant of a marriage engagement she had entered into, because she was afraid her mother would shock her refinement by talking to her about being courted; and I fear there are many concealments made from mothers for no better reason. Parents are generally more ready to sympa- thize with their daughters, than their young hearts imac^ine. The shrinking timidity whi( h accompanies youthful feeling, often renders you unnecessarily afraid to open your minds to 208 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. them ; but let the effort once be made, and however it may be received, you will find your- self relieved from all the additional perplexity which belongs to concealment, sustained by the sense of well-doing. The degree of con- fidence, however, which subsists, must depend upon the characters of the individuals; and where it is not very great, you may be justified in not communicating such matrimonial over- tures as you are resolved to reject ; but I can- not imagine a case, in which you are not bound to inform your parents of such offers as you incline to accept, and to consult them before you engage yourselves. It may not always be in your power to pre- vent your feelings being known, before you seek their advice ; but it should be an avowed principle of your life, that you will never marry without the consent of your parents, nor merely to please them. Never marry a person because you are indifferent to him, and your parents urge it upon you as a desirable match ; this is a breach of integrity, and the penalty will be yours not theirs. The sympathy you will so often need from affectionate parents, you must abundantly re- pay, or you will become selfish and exacting. If you would be the friend and companion of your father, as every daughter should endeav- our to be, you must enter into his feelings and SYMPATHY WITH PARENTS. 209 views, yoii must take an interest in his con- cerns, talk of the subjects that he talks of, read or listen to the news of the day, be some- what acquainted with his politics, and learn of him the |)nnci{)les, on which business is con- hu ted, and of wliich women are generally too Ignorant. With your mother, you are called upon to sympathize most tenderly, in all the daily are s and perplexities of life ; and when her seli-sacrificing spirit would fain save you from partaking in her anxieties, and strives to pre- serve your young spirit free from care, let it not be so. You will be all the better for shar- ing her labors, and relieving her of some of her cares, and when you have done your utmost, great are the burdens that still must rest on the mother of a large family ; let your feelings, therefore, be ever on the alert, to sympathize where you cannot relieve. Let her over-tasked frame and exhausted spirit revive, if possible, under the soothing influence of a daughter's watchful sympathy and cheerful cooperation ; for there are no such unpitied martyrs as the mothers of large families, who perform faith- fully their duties, and are worn out in the ser- vice. Daughters may do something to delay the sacrifice, and it justly behoves them to see that they do not hasten it, by their careless 14 210 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. self-indulgence, by inattention to their mother's feelings, and to the true state of her case. Daughters are apt to think that their mothers lay too great stress upon trifles, and perhaps they do; but this you cannot prevent; and since that is important to them, v^hich appears a trifle to you, is it not better to please them in it, than to add the weight of a feather to their over-burdened minds'? Nothing should be considered a trifle which adds to a mother's cares. Even setting up your chair is a duty, if it saves her the trouble of doing it. If your heart and your manners are right to- wards your parents, you will behave with proper respect and consideration towards their guests, paying them those little attentions which be- come your age and theirs, never appearing im- patient of their presence, but deriving all the good you can from their experience of life. However uninteresting some of your mother's guests may be to you, never sit apart and read in their presence, as that is a breach of good manners, but occupy yourself with your needle, and be ready to wait upon them as occasion arises. If you have brothers, or sisters, or young companions, in the same room, be very careful that your conversation does not interrupt that of your elders; speak in an under tone, and do not indulge in laughter, as that is disrespect- TREATMENT OF ELDERLY FRIENDS. 211 ful to your mother's guests, and might be mis- taken for laughing at them, which would be the grossest rudeness. If they join in your youthful talk, do not become silent, or in any way give the impression that they have spoiled your conversation ; but, even if that should be the case, receive their advances politely, and be assured you will gain more by this self- government, than you can lose by the interrup- tion of the most agreeable conversation. If you happen to be alone in your mother's parlour when a friend of hers enters, who is a stranger to you, you should rise to receive her, as if you were the mistress of the house; place a chair for her, and enter into conversation with her, till your mother appears, when you may quietly withdraw, unless she so introduces you, as to indicate her wish that you should stay and make the acquaintance. In meeting your elderly friends in the street, look at them enough to give them the opportu- nity of recognising you; and if they do so, re- turn their salutation respectfully, not with the familiar nod that you would give to one of your own age. Never remain sitting, whilst your elder is standing before you and talking to you. Nothing is a greater mark of disre- spect and ill manners. Never lounge on a sofa or rocking-chair, whilst there are those in the 212 BEHAVIOUR TO PARENTS. room whose years give them a better claim to that sort of indulgence. There is something so graceful and appropri- ate in the deference which youth pays to age. that if it were not a Christian duty, it shoul( be insisted upon as a matter of good taste. I asked a gentleman once, if he did not think Miss C very pretty and lady-like ; — " I used to think so," was his reply, " but I saw her treat an old gentleman rudely, and she has never looked pretty to me since." I often think of this, when I see young girls just com- ing out into society, pushing themselves before their elders, elbowing their way to the supper- table before wives and matrons, accepting the attentions of elderly gentlemen as if they were conferring, instead of receiving favors, and treating the first dignitaries of the land as carelessly, as they would their own school- mates HOW TO RECEIVE A MASTER. 213 CHAPTER IX. Conduct to Teachers. How to receive a Master. — The Claims of Female Teachers. - Uncertainty of Riches. The more enlightened our country becomes, and the more we are disencumbered of those false notions of gentility which we inherited from the land of our fathers, the more will those be honored, and the better will they be paid, who make a business of teaching. In the fluc- tuating state of our society, persons will be so employed for a short time, who afterwards fill high stations in the land ; whilst those also who have figured in the foremost ranks of life will, at a later period, be found earning their living by teaching a language, or giving les- s-ons in music. Well-educated foreigners, also, whose souls have been refined by suffering for conscience' sake, are often engaged in this mode of earning a living. This being the case, language and music masters do not form a class by themselves, as in the old countries of Europe; they belong here to all well-educated circles, and should be treated with no less politeness, and a little more respect, than you show to other gentlemen of your acquaintance. When a master comes to give you a lesson, you should receive him as your particular guest, 214 CONDUCT TO TEACHERS. with a serious, polite, and deferential manner, readily entering into conversation with hiiu- till he chooses to begin the lesson. Then de- vote your whole attention to the business in hand, remembering that the labor of teachino the best scholar is irksome enough, and thar you must reward your masters by your pro- gress, no less than by your money. Th( greatest delicacy is required in consulting tht interests of a teacher without hurting his feel- ings ; but you should never forget that time is money to him, and if you keep him waiting, let the loss be yours not his, and never over- run the allotted hour, to make it up. A scrupulous attention to politeness is not only useful to prevent hurting the feelings of others, but it is the best shield to your own delicacy; and as there are all sorts of masters, as well as the refined and dignified beings I have alluded to, (and some are very young and indiscreet,) it is best to maintain a strict re- serve, never talking of your private concerns, never speaking freely of persons, never indulg- ing in jokes and laughter, because that leads to familiarity which may be unpleasant. Serious politeness is the best shield a young lady can have, and a shield you may need in a tete-a- tete with a youthful instructor; this sort of defence protects you, without offending others. When the ofhce of teacher is filled by one of CLAIMS OF FEMALE TEACHERS. 215 your own sex, all your kindest sympathies should be enlisted in her favor, and you should endeavour, by every means in your power, to render her task agreeable, and to sustain her in that position in society to which her man- ners and acquirements entitle her. Nothing can be meaner than the false pride exhib- ited by some girls towards the ladies who give them lessons in music, drawing, or lan- guages. Some have even been known to pass their instructresses in the street, without ac- knowledging the acquaintance even by a pass- ing bow ; others salute in passing, but would on no account invite the lady to their house as a guest ; and she, whose cultivation and refine- ment may far exceed that of her pupils, is con- sidered by them of inferior rank, because she has added to her other merits, that of render- ing herself independent by the exercise of her talents. Now all this is wrong, entirely wrong, and in this country it has no meaning but one of excessive folly, in those who practise it. Where there are no hereditary distinctions, and no long-established division of society into castes or ranks, the only mode of classifi- cation is that of wealth, or individual merit, comprising refinement of manners and cultiva- tion of mind. If wealth is to be the standard of gentility or importance, in a country where fortunes 216 CONDUCT TO TEACHERS. are often suddenly acquired by persons without any education, or any native refinement, and where the fluctuating nature of property often deprives those, who have been the most luxuri- ously brought up, of the means of living, we may expect to see the grossest manners prevail and civilization decline. But, much as riches are valued, there is an instinctive homage paid to mental culture and refined manners, beyond what wealth can command ; and those who pass by their female teacher in the street, without bowing to her, would yet hesitate to acknowledge that they did so because she had fewer dollars at her disposal, than they had. They probably avoid all scrutiny of their mo- tives, and try to make themselves believe there is a propriety in so doing, which cannot be easily explained. They are right there, it can- not be explained on any principle of justice or sound reason. If a female teacher of unblem- ished reputation, has a refined and cultivated mind; if she has good manners, and the habits of society which belong to the circle in which she teaches ; what should hinder her being re- ceived into it on a footing of perfect equality ? Certainly not the simple circumstance of her turning her talents to account, in a commu- nity of shop-keepers and merchants, lawyers and doctors, bankers, and manufacturers. Why should the lady who makes her living by im- UNCERTAINTY OF RICHES. 217 parting to others, one of her accomplishments, be less regarded than the man who gains his livelihood by selling goods or manufacturing them ? and can there be any sense in the half- educated daughter of a lawyer or merchant, treating her more mature, and more accom- plished teacher as an inferior ? That such a thing can take place, in a republic like ours, shows how many generations it requires to re- move the taint of aristocracy, derived from the mother country. It is to be hoped that the day of its utter extinction is at hand. If policy, if propriety, if Christianity fail to give you the right tone of feeling towards your teachers, let the reflection that the gayest and richest belle among you, is continually liable to such a reverse of fortune, as may place her in the very condition of life which she now contemns. The uncertainty of riches has been the theme of the moralist in every age, and in no country in the world are the fluctuations of fortune more frequent, or more sudden, than in this republic. So common is it for young Vv^o- men, who have been brought up in easy circum- stances, to find themselves, on their father's decease, obliged to provide for themselves, that one of the best arguments in favor of learning certain accomplishments is, that they may, on a change of fortune, furnish the means of obtaining an honest livelihood. s 218 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS- CHAPTER X, The Relation of Brothers and Sisters. Influence of Sisters on Brothers. — Confidence won and kept — Happy Evenings at Home. — Mutual Aid in Choosing- Friends. — Fraternal Love a Safeguard. — Little Annoy- ances between Sisters. — Politeness in the Family Circle. — Duties of Elder Sisters to the Younger Children. — Works on Education recommended. The important relation which sisters bear to brothers cannot be fully appreciated, without a greater knowledge of the world and its temptations to young men, than girls in their teens can be supposed to possess ; and there- fore I would beg you to profit by my experi- ence in this matter, and to believe me when I assure you, that your companionship and influ- ence may be powerful agents in preserving your brothers from dissipation, in saving them from dangerous intimacies, and maintaining in their minds a high standard of female excel- lence. If your brothers are younger than you, en- courage them to be perfectly confidential with you; win their friendship by your sympathy in all their concerns, and let them see that their interests and their pleasures are liberally pro- vided for in the family arrangements. Never dis- close their little secrets however unimportant CONFIDENCE WON AND KEPT. 219 they may seem to you ; never pain them by an ill-timed joke, never repress their feelings by ridicule ; but be their tenderest friend, and then you may become their ablest adviser. If separated from them by the course of school or college education, make a point of keeping up your intimacy by full, free, and affectionate correspondence ; and when they return to the paternal roof, at that awkward age between youth and manhood, when reserve creeps over the mind, like an impenetrable veil, suffer it not to interpose between you and your brothers. Cultivate their friendship and intimacy with all the address and tenderness you possess ; for it is of unspeakable importance to them that their sisters should be their confidential friends. Consider the loss of a ball or party, for the sake of making the evening pass pleas- antly to your brothers at home, as a small sacrifice; one you should unhesitatingly make. If they go into company with you, see that they are introduced to the most desirable acquaint- ances, and show them that you are interested in their acquitting themselves well. If you are so happy as to have elder broth- ers, you should be equally assiduous in culti- vating their friendship, though the advances must of course be differently made. As they have long been accustomed to treat you as a child, you may meet with some repulses when 220 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. you aspire to become a companion and friend; but do not be discouraged by this. The ear- lier maturity of girls, will soon render you their equal in sentiment, if not in knowledge, and your ready sympathy will soon convince them of it. They will be agreeably surprised, when they find their former plaything and mes- senger become their quick-sighted and intel- ligent companion, understanding at a glance what is passing in their hearts ; and love and confidence on your part will soon be repaid in kind. Young men often feel the want of a confidential friend of the softer sex, to sympa- thize with them in their little affairs of senti- ment, and happy are those who find one in a sister. Once possessed of an elder brother's confi- dence, spare no pains to preserve it ; convince him, by the little sacrifices of personal conven- ience and pleasure which you are willing to make for him, that wdien you do oppose his wishes, it is on principle and for conscience' sake ; then will 3^ou be a blessing to him, and, even w^hen differing from you, he will love and respect you the more for your adherence to a high standard. So many temptations beset young men, of which young women know nothing, that it is of the utmost importance that your brothers' evenings should be happily passed at home, that HAPPY EVENINGS AT HOME. 221 their friends should be your friends, that their engagements should be the same as yours, and that various innocent amusements should be provided for them in the family circle. Music is an accomplishment, chiefly valuable as a home enjoyment, as rallying round the piano the various members of a family, and harmonizing their hearts as well as voices, particularly in devotional strains. I know no more agreeable and interesting spectacle, than that of brothers and sisters playing and singing together those elevated compositions in music and poetry which gratify the taste and purify the heart, whilst their fond parents sit delighted by. I have seen and heard an elder sister thus leading the family choir, who was the soul of harmony to the whole household, and whose life was a perfect example of those virtues which I am here endeavouring to inculcate. Let no one say, in reading this chapter, that too much is here required of sisters, that no one can be expected to lead such a self-sacrificing life; for the sainted one to whom I refer, was all that I would ask any sister to be, and a happier person never lived. " To do good and make others happy," was her rule of life, and in this she found the art of making herself so. Sisters should be always willing to walk, ride, visit with their brothers, and esteem it a 222 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. privilege to be their companions. It is worth while to learn innocent games for the sake of furnishing brothers with amusement and mak- ing home the most agreeable place to them. If your brothers take an interest in your personal appearance and dress, you should encourage the feeling by consulting their taste, and sacrificing any little fancy of your own to a decided dislike of theirs. Brothers will gen- erally be found strongly opposed to the slight- est indecorum in sisters ; even those who are ready enough to take advantage of freedom of manners in other girls, have very strict notions with regard to their own sisters. Their inter- course with all sorts of men enables them to judge of the construction put upon certain actions, and modes of dress and speech, much better than women can ; and you will do well to take their advice on all such points. Brothers and sisters may greatly aid each other in judging of their friends of the opposite sex. Brothers can throw important light upon the character and merits of young men, be- cause they see them when acting out their natures before their comrades, and relieved from the restraints of the drawing-room ; and you can in return, greatly assist your brothers in coming to wise and just conclusions con- cerning their female friends. Your brothers may be very much indebted to the quicker pen- FRATERNAL LOVE A SAFEGUARD. 223 etration of women into each others' characters, and saved by your discernment from being fascinated by qualities that are not of sterling value ; but, in order to have the influence ne- cessary to such important ends, you must be habitually free from a spirit of detraction, can- did in all your judgments, and ever ready to admire whatever is lovely and good in your own sex. If, when you dissent from your brother's too favorable opinion of a lady, he can with any justice charge you with a preju- dice against her family, or a capricious dislike of her, your judgment, however correct, will have no weight, and he will be very likely to become not only the lady's champion, but her lover. If your brothers have received a classical education and are studiously inclined, you may derive great assistance from them in the culti- vation of your own mind, and bind them still closer to you in the delightful companionship of literary pursuits. I have been told by men, who had passed unharmed through the temptations of youth, that they owed their escape from many dan- gers to the intimate companionship of affec- tionate and pure-minded sisters. They have been saved from a hazardous meeting with idle company by some home engagement, of which their sisters were the charm j they have refrain- 224 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS ed from mixing with the impure, because they would not bring home thoughts and feelings which they could not share with those trusting and loving friends ; they have put aside the wine-cup and abstained from stronger pota- tions, because they would not profane with their fumes the holy kiss, with which they were accustomed to bid their sisters good night. The duties of sisters to each other are so obvious and well understood, that it will be needless to enter fully upon them here. If your heart is right towards God, and you feel that the great business of life is the education of your immortal spirits for eternity, you will easily bear with the infirmities of others, be- cause you will be fully impressed with a sense of your own ; and, when you can amicably bear and forbear, love will come in, to soften every asperity, heal every little wound, and make a band of sisters " helpers of each other's joy." A few cases may arise, in the most harmo- nious families, wherein sisters may not fully understand each other's rights, and may there- fore ignorantly trespass upon them ; such, for instance, as where one of the family is very fond of reading, and wishes to have a certain portion of her time uninterruptedly given to that employment, and a sister keeps interrupt- LITTLE ANNOYANCES BETWEEN SISTERS. 225 ing her by conversation, or appeals to her for aid in some lesson or piece of work. Some- times a great reader is made the butt of the rest of the family for that very valuable pro- pensity, and half her pleasure in it destroyed by its being made a standing joke among her brothers and sisters. Sisters should as scrupulously regard each other's rights of property, as they w^ould those of a guest staying in the house ; never helping themselves without leave to the working ma- terials, writing implements, drawing apparatus, books, or clothing of each other. It is a mis- take to suppose that the nearness of the rela- tionship makes it allow^able ; the more intimate our connexion with any one, the more neces- sary it is to guard ourselves against taking unwarrantable liberties. For the very reason that you are obliged to be so much together, you should take care to do nothing disagreea- ble to each other. Love is a plant of delicate grov/th, and, though it sometimes springs up spontaneously, it will never flourish long and well, without careful culture ; and when I see how it is treated in some families, the wonder is, not that it does not spread so as to overshadow the whole circle, but that any sprig of it should survive the rude treatment it meets with. Genuine politeness is a great fosterer of 15 226 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. family love ; it allays accidental irritation, by preventing harsh retorts and rude contradic- tions ; it softens the boisterous, stimulates the indolent, suppresses selfishness, and, by form- ing a habit of consideration for others, harmo- nizes the whole. Politeness begets politeness, and brothers may be easily won by it to leave off the rude ways they bring home from school or college. Never receive any little attention without thanking them for it, never ask a favor of them but in cautious terms, never reply to their questions in monosyllables, and they will soon be ashamed to do such things themselves. You should labor, by precept and example, to convince them, that no ane can have really good manners abroad, who is not habitually polite at home. Elder sisters exert a very great influence over the young children of a family, either for good or for evil. If you are impatient, unfair in your judgments, or assume too much author- ity, you injure the tempers of these little ones, make them jealous of their rights, and render your own position a very unpleasant one; whereas, if you are patient and kind, and found your pretensions to dictate, not on your age, but on truth and justice, the younger chil- dren will readily allow your claims. Young children are excellent judges of the motives and feelings of those who attempt DUTIES OF ELDER SISTERS. 227 to control them ; and, if you would win their love, and dispose them to comply with your reasonable requests, you must treat them with perfect candor and uprightness. Never at- tempt to cheat, even the youngest, into a com- pliance with your wishes ; for, though you suc- ceed at the time, you lessen your influence, by the loss of confidence which follows detection. With every disposition to treat the younger ones kindly, elder sisters are often discouraged and discomforted by what they consider the over indulgence of their parents towards the younger members of the family; but where this complaint is well founded, much is still in their power. They can, by judicious conduct, do a great deal to counteract the bad effects of this parental fondness, and make the little ones ashamed to take a mean advantage of it. The very indulgent are seldom just -, now children value justice and strict adherence to promises more than indulgence, and you may mould them to your will by the exercise of those higher qualities. It is the duty of elder sisters to take a lively interest in the education of the younger children, and to use all the advantages which they have received, for the benefit of those that are coming forward in the same line. They should aid their parents in the choice of schools, and ascertain what is actually learnt 228 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. at them. Where circumstances render it ne- cessary that the elder children should assist in teaching the younger ones, it should be done cheerfully ; not as a duty merely, but as a useful discipline. Some writers upon edu- cation consider teaching others as the best and most effectual way of learning one's self. When Madame de Genlis described what she considered as a perfect system of education, she represented her models as taking younger children to teach as a part of their own in- struction. It has been said, that we are never sure that we know a thing thoroughly, until we have taught it to another. If the duty of teaching has its advantages, it has also its dangers ; it is a very fatiguing occupation, and ought not to occupy too much of a young person's time. Where this is re- quired of a daughter, other home-duties should be remitted, and her day should be so appor- tioned as to leave her ample time for exercise and recreation, or the labor may prove injuri- ous to her health. It is very seldom that one, who has never attempted to teach others, can duly appreciate the labor of it ; and a father, so circumstanced, will sometimes think that as many hours may be given to it as he gives to his business; but this is a great mistake; nothing is so heavy a tax on mind and body, as the act of communicating knowledge to DJTIES OF ELDER SISTERS. 229 other minds ; and the more intelligently and lovingly it is done, the greater is the fatigue. This duty should not be allowed to inter- fere with the further progress of the young teacher, for though it may be useful to go over old ground, with those who are learning, she should still be careful not to narrow^ her mind down to the standard of their habits; but re- fresh and invigorate it, at the same time, by exploring new fields of literature. Those who are not called upon to teach younger brothers and sisters, may yet do them great good by exercising their minds in con- versation, and by communicating useful infor- mation to them in their daily intercourse. The reverse of this I have sometimes observed with sorrow. I have seen amiable and well inform- ed girls act towards these little ones, as if they were not at all responsible for the impressions they made on their tender minds. They would mislead a young inquirer by false information, and consider it a good joke ; or they would harrow up young and susceptible minds by frightful stories, w^hich, though amusing at the time, could not fail to send the little dears trembling to bed, afraid of the dark, and un- able to sleep for terror. Where, however, the elder children have been properly trained by the parents, such mistakes cannot occur, and T 230 RELATION OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS. where they have not, it would require a volume to do justice to the subject. It is as necessary for those who are much with children, to have right notions about the manner of treating them, as for the parents themselves ; it is therefore very desirable that elder sisters should read some of the excellent works which have been written on education. Among these, I would particularly recommend, Edgeworth's " Practical Education," Mrs Hamilton's " Letters on the Elementary Prin- ciples of Education," " Hints on Nursery Dis- cipline," a valuable little book, republished in Salem a few years ago, and a late French work of great merit, entitled " L'Education Progres- sive," by Madame Necker de Saussure. These works are as entertaining as they are instruc- tive, and great pleasure might be found, in testing some of the theories and maxims, which they contain, by the living experience of a family circle. By studying the subject of edu- cation, elder sisters would learn to regard the children around them, not merely as necessary interruptions and occasional playthings, but as moral and intellectual problems, which they may find profit in solving. MAKING DOMESTIC SERVICE DESIRABLE. 231 CHAPTER XL Treatment of Domestics and Work-women, How to make the Service of Domestics desirable. — Some of their Trials mentioned. — Anecdote. — Blame. — Praise. — Politeness. — Asking Favors. — Moral and Intellectual Im- provement of Domestics. — Care of those who work by the Day. — Hint to those who employ Help. The unexampled prosperity of this great re- public makes it so easy for young women to find lucrative employment in the way of trades and manufactures, that the service of private families is less sought than formerly, by the active and industrious ; hence arises the scar- city of domestics, and the numerous complaints which we hear from the mistresses of families, whose burdens are much increased by this state of things. Since, however, it is a proof of the flourishing condition of the people at large, let us not groan over it as an unmixed evil, but try to meet it by changes in our domestic arrangements, and by that moral power which goodness and intelligence must ever give. Let us try to make the service of private families more desirable, not by extravagant wages, but by justice and kindness, and a liberal consider- ation of the convenience and pleasure of those who do the drudgery of our houses. Let us attach them to us by a sincere sympathy in 232 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. their feelings, interests, and concerns ; if we make them see that we are not selfishly bent on getting all the service we can for our wages, but that their happiness is a large item in the account, they will in return consult our interest and convenience, and we shall have the willing labor of love, instead of reluctant eye-service. In much of the fault-finding that is heard about domestics, may be traced the influence of aristocratic feeling, and that spirit of domina- tion which invariably accompanies a state of society, in which domestics are numerous, and labor can be commanded at a cheap rate ; and though it is long since this was the state of things in the northern and eastern States of America, the feeling is transmitted, and ladies often talk as if they were living in olden times and had a right to govern with absolute sway those whom they hire. They talk of the con- tracts made with house servants, as if the obli- gations were all on one side, and as if, in con- sideration of the wages paid, the hired persons were to lose all free agency; to hold every moment at the command of their employers ; to have no will but theirs; to perform the same round of duties, month after month, without relief or variety ; to seek no amusements ; to gain no further knowledge ; but be content to drudge on thus to the end of their days. TRIALS OF DOMESTICS. 233 Some ladies frown upon all lovers, and con- sider the indulgence of a matrimonial project in the kitchen, as a wrong done to them. All gay dressing, too, is a sin in their eyes, and all visiting a waste of time. Now^, when I hear such unreasonable task-mistresses talk of the difficulty of getting good domestics, I cannot help rejoicing, that, in this happy land, there is not a surplus population which makes it neces- sary for any class of beings to submit unresist- ingly to this system of domestic tyranny. The lesson of justice, which housekeepers are so slow to learn from the teachings of re- ligion, is brought home to them by necessity. Those who have long maintained the strict dis- cipline of their grandmothers, find, that unless they relax, they cannot get any one to serve them ; and, though they grumble, and reluct, and discourse much of the degeneracy of the times, they are obliged to let their domestics dress, visit, have lovers, and do their work in their own time, or not have it done at all Thus the scarcity of servants is ameliorating their condition ; and when it is made sufficient- ly desirable, we shall have more respectable young women willing to work in private fami- lies instead of factories. Even now, there are persons who never find any difficulty in being well served ; yet it is not because they give extravagant wages, or 234 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. allow their domestics unwarrantable liberties ; that is not the way ; it is by following that simple rule, given by our Saviour to his disci- ples, and which is of universal application, though many do not seem to see its bearing upon this particular social relation ; it is by " doing unto others as you would that they should do unto you." In families where this broad Christian ground is taken, the domestics feel that their rights are respected and their happiness is cared for ; that though they are expected to do the work, and are to be well paid for it, their labors are to be rendered as easy as possible, and to be relieved by all the recreation and improvement compatible with their performance of it. When they find their comfort provided for in the family arrangements, and that their em- ployers are willing to make occasional sacri- fices of convenience to their special enjoyment, they become considerate and generous in their turn ; and, instead of encroaching upon this kindness, they avail themselves of it very scru- pulously. A chambermaid has been known to refuse the most tempting invitation, because she thou(yht her absence would be an incon- venience, and to keep it a secret from her em- ployers lest they should insist on her going ; yet the same person, when certain she could be spared, would announce her intention of REFORM MUST BEGIN WITH THE YOUNG. 235 going out, like an equal, not asking leave, as a dependent. And I pity those who would not prefer this friendly understanding to the mere exercise of authority. Yet some there are, who would rather forego the valuable services of such a woman, than not have their love of power gratified by more subordination on her part. Where domestics are selfish and deceitful, they have frequently been rendered so by the exactions and the domineering spirit of those whom they have served ; and it yet remains to be shown how much the characters of both may be improved, when the bond of Christian broth- erhood shall be fully acknowledged and acted upon in this relation of life. My young reader will perhaps exclaim, " All this about domestics is well enough for our parents, but what have we to do with it ? " Much, very much, I assure you. It is very im- portant to the happiness of all concerned, that the prevalent errors upon this topic should be corrected; and if you would not add to the numbers of complaining and care-worn mis- tresses of families, you must avoid their errors, and practise, in your father's house, the vir- tues that will lighten the cares, which may at some future time devolve upon you. If the spirit of domination is hard to be borne with in the heads of families, it is ten 236 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. times harder to put up with it in the younger members ; and, without a thorough understand- ing of the rights and feelings of hired persons, young ladies will be apt to trespass upon them, without knowing that they do so. Numerous unreasonable requisitions are made from mere thoughtlessness, which are not the less irk- some for that. It is your duty seriously to consider the nature of your demands upon the time and attention of others, and to appreciate their feelings by imagining what yours would be in their place. So far from indulging the idea, that their situation in life makes such a wide distinction between you, that you cannot sympathize with them, you should consider all your superior advantages of education as so many calls upon you to a more scrupulous ful- filment of your duties towards them ; and the more enlightened you :re, the more perfectly ought you to sympathize in their feelings. It often happens that those who wait upon young ladies are many years their seniors, and have much more practical wisdom than they ; imagine, then, how irksome it must be to them, to be called off from their work, twenty times a day for some trifling want of yours. Perhaps the business they are about is hindered or spoil- ed by these interruptions, and they are blamed for what they could not help. Your attendant may be very much tired, and your bell may call TRIALS OF DOMESTICS. 237 her up many flights of stairs, and when she gets up, she may find that you have summoned her to do something for you, which you might just as well have done for yourself. Her judg- ment may be better than yours ; she may know what you ought to do, better than you do your- self; and yet she is expected to be subservient to your will ; now if you were in her place, would you not be inclined to rebel ? Suppose, however, that her patience and good-nature are equal to the occasion, and that you speak to her so pleasantly, that your wants, though trifling, are cheerfully supplied ; having done what you wish, she hurries back to her more important labors below stairs. Now imagine her feelings, when your bell rings again in five minutes, and up she is obliged to go for something you forgot to say when she came up before. Can you wonder if her brow is clouded and her answer short 1 Yet such are the trials, to which women are continually subject, who do the work of private families, and all for want of proper consideration on the part of their employers. Interruption at meals is another great an- noyance to domestics, and ought to be avoided if possible After waiting upon others through their meals, they ought to be allowed to eat their own in peace and quietness. But so far from this being usually the case, they no sooner 238 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. seat themselves at table, than ring, ring, goes the parlour bell, and they must leave the meat untasted on their plates, to do something which might just as well be done half an hour af- terwards. I have been in some families, w^here the com- fort of those who eat in the kitchen is as scru- pulously guarded as that of those who eat in the parlour, and no one is permitted to ring the bell, till the domestics have had a quiet half hour for their meal, and children are for- bidden to open the kitchen door during that time. This privilege is of far more importance to those who have been running about all day, than it is to their employers ; and yet you would think it a great hardship to be called away from table two or three times in the course of your dinner or tea. Think then of the comfort of those who serve you, and pro- vide for it in this particular. In accomplishing the work of a large family, much depends upon the order in which it is done ; a task is rendered doubly burdensome by being done at an inconvenient time, and of that no one can judge so well as the person who does it ; and therefore it is best for your interests as well as theirs, that they should know beforehand what you wish done, and then they can make their arrangements, so as to do it in the best time. If you wish to have TRIALS OF DOMESTICS. 239 a dress smoothed with a warm iron to wear at dinner, do not call upon the chamber-maid to do it, just before you put it on, when they are taking up dinner in the kitchen, and it is incon- venient to heat an iron or use it ; but tell her of it in the morning, and let her do it in her own time. In like manner, when you have a commission for the man-servant to do, tell him of it beforehand, and let him take the most convenient opportunity of doing it, instead of calling him off from his regular business and giving him extra trouble. When people find that their convenience is thus considered, they take more pleasure in their business, do it better, and are more wil- ling to exert themselves when a pressing emer- gency comes, in which their ease cannot be consulted. The ringing of a bell is the most imperative command that can be given, and young per- sons should be very scrupulous about the man- ner of using it, lest they call the domestics from some important business to answer a trifling demand of theirs. It is well to be in the habit of thinking twice, before you ring once, instead of ringing twice, as some do, before they think once ; and when you must ring, do it gently, and think of every thing that you wish to say, that you may not have occasion to ring again soon. It is often much better for young persons to 240 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. go to the kitchen to see how the domestics are occupied before they make their wishes known, than to sit in the parlour and ring the bell at the risk of doing it at the most inopportune moment ; this will often save the feelings of both parties. Persons who have been brought up in the country, and have worked only in houses where they are treated as equals and where the sound of a bell was never heard, are very much averse to being summoned by that iron-tongued mon- itor ; it affects them very unpleasantly. A certain family moved into the country and had their house fitted up with bells, which conven- ience they had always been accustomed to ; and when they began to use the parlour bell one evening, they rang several times without any notice being taken of it ; at last, one of the girls from the kitchen opened the door a little way, and putting her nose in, said, " The more you ring the more we won't come." Instead of being angry as some silly persons would have been, the lady of the house went out to the kitchen and told them in a pleasant way, that they mistook the meaning of a bell, that it was contrived for the mutual convenience of parlour and kitchen, and to save calling and screaming about the house. " Now," said the lady, " if you want me at any time, you may ring such a bell, and I will oro to you, and if ANECDOTE. 241 I want you, I will ring the parlour bell, and ex- pect you to come to me." To prove her words, the domestics rang for their employer once; she attended the summons and gave out some little article that was wanting; after that they never rang again, but always attended the bells willingly and cheerfully. As an instance of kind consideration for do- mestics in the old country, where they abound, and where, consequently, they cannot bargain for their rights as they can here, I may cite a fact that came to my knowledge lately. A distinguished female writer, living with her mother in London, was asked by her whether the bell in her room was in order, as she liked to be sure it was so, in case of her daughter's being taken ill in the night. The daughter said she would try it and see if it was, but she could not tell then, as she had not rang it for years. Her room was so far from the kitchen, that she conscientiously forbore to call the servant girl up there by the bell ; she alw^ays contrived to tell her, when in the parlour, all that she wanted her to do, and so saved her many weary steps. In a country where labor is scarce, it is right and proper to wait upon ourselves as much as possible ; and those who have always been used to have the best of domestics, and to keep them a long while, will generally be found in u \6 242 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. that habit. Whereas those who have but re- cently attained to a situation that allo^\JS of being waited upon, are the most tenacious of their dignity in that respect, and use the bell in the most unsparing manner. Keeping your domestics up late at night, and expecting them to rise early too, is very unreasonable, and is often thoughtlessly done, when it adds nothing to your comfort, but proceeds merely from forgetfulness of theirs. When you are out late at parties, you should so arrange matters at home, that only one person shall sit up for you, and she should be allowed to lie in bed as much later in the morning, as will make up her necessary sleep If one of your family sits up for you, do not keep a domestic up also, for the sake of her ren- dering you some petty service in undressing, which you can very well dispense w^ith ; for the sacrifice of rest to her is too great for any trifling accommodation it may be to you. When, at home, you choose to sit up late, be very careful not to keep any one sitting in the kitchen to wait your pleasure before she goes to bed. Those who work hard require more sleep than you do, and having to rise early and do their morning work before you come down stairs, they ought to be allowed to go to bed at ten o'clock. Think, for a moment, how heavily the hours must pass with a person BLAME 243 who is tired and sleepy, and who is sitting- alone and unoccupied in the kitchen, waiting another's pleasure to go to bed. The very idea of inflicting such a penance on any one would prevent a benevolent person from enjoy- ing any thing so dearly purchased ; and yet, from not considering the matter sufficiently, I have known persons of benevolent feelings, to keep their domestics up, unnecessarily, night after night. Whenever you have been obliged to inflict any hardship on others, the kind ex- pression of your regret will do much to re- concile them to it, and this should never be omitted. If you sufficiently consider the trials incident to a life of service, and judge of the feelings of others by your own, you will see abundant reason why you should be prompt to praise and slow to blame. Any extra service, any little attention that you receive should be cour- teously and heartily acknowledged ; nor should the regularity and exactness, with which the daily work is done, be suffered to pass unno- ticed, whilst the slightest omission is talked of and made of great importance. Think how you would like to do the same things, in the very same way, every day in the year, and allow for its irksomeness to them. Scolding has long been considered ungen- teel, and now, I believe, it is obsolete 3 for I 244 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. have not for years heard such a sound. It is to be hoped that harsh reproof, of all kinds, will become equally so. Finding fault in a severe or pettish tone, never does any good; it is the last whj in the world to make any one sorry for an omission, mistake, or accident. When any de- linquency must be noticed, it is better to begin by a gentle and kind inquiry, why it was so ; that affords the person an opportunity of justify- ing herself, when right ; and when in the wrong, she will be more likely to see and allow it, if- she is questioned instead of blamed. If you feel your temper raised by anything that has occurred, never open your lips to a domestic till it has entirely subsided ; for you may inflict a wound which you can never heal, and lose more respect than you can ever win back again. Politeness is as necessary to a happy inter- course with the inhabitants of the kitchen, as with those of the parlour ; it lessens the pains of service, promotes kind feelings on both sides, and checks unbecoming familiarity ; al- vv^ays thank them for what they do for you, and always ask rather than command their services. Whilst you are slow to notice those little faults which affect only your own convenience, you ought to deal promptly and strenuously with anything which shows a defect of princi- ple in those around you. Any disposition to falsify or backbite, any lightness of conduct or ASKING FAVORS. 245 conversation, should be seriously reprehended ; no gossipping should ever be listened to, nor should your confidence in their kind feelings ever lead you to make indiscreet disclosures of your own affairs. However respectable they may be, and entitled to constant, kind con- sideration, they are not proper confidants for young ladies, and should not be encouraged to talk to you of your beaux and conquests ; as that is a most unprofitable kind of inter- course for both you and them. When you have necessarily been so situated as to require much extra labor of those who at- tend upon you, you should always acknowledge it by a present in money, if you can aflford it, and they are saving of their wages ; if not, by consulting with your mother, you can gene- rally fix upon some articles of clothing which you can spare, and which will be useful to them. Be very careful to pay them every little debt you may chance to owe them ; for, if you forget it, they will not like to remind you of it, though a few cents may be more to them, than as many dollars to you. Never think them mercenary, because they value money more than you do ; remember what a serious thing it is to have nothing but what you can earn with your own hands, and to be dependent in sickness upon your own scanty savings. You 246 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. should encourage them to be economical, and to put every dollar they can spare, into a savings bank. Some persons oblige their friends at the ex- pense of their domestics, which is just as unfair, as if you were to make a present of something that does not belong to you. I have heard a young lady admire her friend's ruffled cape, saying she should like to have one, if she could get it plaited so beautifully, adding, " Whom do you get to do up yours so elegantly." The wearer of the cape replied, " It is done by our chambermaid ; she plaits ex- quisitely ; and if you would like to have one made like mine, I will get her to do it up for you." " 0, you are very kind," rejoins the other, '' I should like it of all things." Now, if the young lady had plaited her own ruffles, and chose to make a tender of her services to her friend, it would deserve the name of kindness ; but to offer the services of another, as if they were your own, is anything but kind or just. The chambermaid agreed with your mother to do the work of the family, but not that of her friends, and you have no right to require it of her. But perhaps you have treated her so well, and done her so many favors, that you are sure she has a disposition to do more for you, than she is bound to do by her contract ; if this is the case, you may ask her whether she is willing MORAL AND INTELLECTUAL IMPROVEMENT. 247 to oblige you by doing up your friend's cape, but never claim it as a matter of right ; and if she answers readily and cheerfully, that she will do it, be sure to thank her for it, and to receive it as a favor, for that will be some re- ward to her for the time and pains it will cost her. You cannot be too careful to keep in view the rights of others ; there being a constant tendency, in our selfish natures, to think only of our own, it requires a perpetual watchfulness to avoid infringing on those of others; indeed, it is so difficult to draw the line between them correctly, that it is much safer to ask than to command a service, and the habit of so word- ing your requirements, alleviates the evils of service, and produces a more agreeable inter- course than the habit of command; and when you ask a favor, acknowledge it as such. The moral and intellectual improvement of those who live with you, ought to be provided for, and the advantages which you have receiv- ed ought to contribute to their progress. Much useful knowledge may be communicated by the young ladies of a family to those who serve them, both by conversation and by the selection of proper books for them to read. The arrange- ments of the family on Sunday ought to be made with reference to their convenience and leisure ; and you should never suffer your en- 248 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. gagements to interfere with their attendance upon public worship or private instruction. You, who have so many sources of knowledge open to you, can scarcely appreciate the value to them, of the few w^hich they partake of. They should be allowed to attend Lyceum lec- tures, Temperance meetings. Peace societies, and to see sights that convey instruction. All such opportunities are of more importance to them than to you, and therefore, if one party must stay at home, it had better be you than they. Most of what has been said, concerning do- mestics, will apply with equal force to those who work for you by the day; but, as the lat- ter class often consists of persons in reduced circumstances, greater delicacy is required in consulting their feelings so as not to wound them. If not convenient to admit them to your table, see, yourself, that they have their meals sent to them in good order ; never trust to your domestics to wait properly on a dress- maker or seamstress, for there is often an unfriendly feeling produced in the former by the latter's not choosing to eat in the kitchen, which would interfere with her being well taken care of. If you have any feeling, any sympathy for your own sex, let this portion of the community share largely in it. Look at their emaciated KINDNESS TO DRESSMAKERS. 249 forms and pallid faces ; see how languid their circulations are, how frequently their heads and sides ache, how cold their feet are, and yet how steadily they pursue their tasks from morn till night, day after day, and week after week. Let your consideration for them show itself, not in giving them rich cake, or sweet- meats and wine, for luncheon, than which noth- ing can be worse for them; but in giving them an opportunity to take a walk in your garden, or do an errand for you at a shop ; in making them occasionally cease plying the needle, to look at something amusing or instructive ; in abridging their evening hours of toil, and so arranging your work, that their eyes shall, if possible, be saved from dark work at night. Let them do that by day-light, and work on white or light materials by lamp-light. You can sometimes cheer them in their labors by getting your younger brothers or sisters to read aloud to them, and you can lend them books to take home with them. You can also enlighten them on the subject of their health, and teach them how they can best obviate the evils incident to their way of life. You can exhort them to take exercise in the open air, and show them the danger of not doing so. You can tell them the mischiefs which arise from not being sufficiently clothed, and from eating cake, sweetmeats, and pastry, between 250 TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS. meals. If you have made yourself acquainted with the best means of preserving health, you will be able to lecture well on this impor- tant subject, and may do a great deal of good to a class of females, whose lives are now ren- dered burdensome by disease, or prematurely cut short by death. If you have a right appreciation of the toil- some life these people live, you will never fail to pay them promptly and liberally, and to watch over their interests, not suffering them to over- task themselves on your account ; you will endeavour, by every means in your power, to relieve the tedium of their lives, and to make a day spent in your service, one of the few remembered with pleasure long afterwards. Let it be a red-letter day in their calendar. I am aware that there is a large class of readers, to whom the foregoing observations on the treatment of domestics will not fully apply. Persons living in the interior of the country, on farms or in villages, where the population is thinly scattered over the land, generally share in all the labors of their house- hold, and will be under no temptation to com- mit many of the errors pointed out in this chapter. When the only assistance they re- ceive is from a person who is treated as an equal, and sits at the same table with the fami- ly, there will be no room for much of the incon- HINT TO THOSE WHO EMPLOY HELP. 251 siderateness here mentioned. To such I would only say, act courteously and gen-erously to- wards your help; and endeavour, by showing confidence and addressing the best feelings, to procure a willing service, and to excite an hon- orable desire to act up to the full spirit of the contract, instead of each construing the letter of it to her own advantage 252 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. CHAPTER XII. Female Companionship. Friendship. — The Treacherous Friend. — Intimacy. — Keep- ing Secrets. — Gossip. — Reading Societies. — Intermed- dling. — Taking Sides. — Quarrels. — Curiosity. — Anec- dotes. — Jealousy. — Dislike. — Tenaciousness. — Polite- ness. — Refinement. — Flattery. — Sins of Conversation. — Laughter. — Reserve. — Borrowing. — Presents. — Corre- spondence. — Care of Books. — Bad Tricks. — Rash Judg- ments. The instability of giriish friendship has be- come a by-word in society, in consequence of young persons having dignified with the name of friendship, the transient partialities that grow out of accidental circumstances. There are, however, few youthful intimacies, which deserve that sacred name, or which are sutfi- ciently well founded to be w^orth preserving. Whilst the judgment is unripe, the affections will often be misplaced ; the changes, too, which take place in the characters of girls, in the course of a few years, often destroy all ground of sympathy ; and in this case, it is better to drop the intimacy than to keep up any false professions and appearances. It is better to subject yourself to the charge of inconstancy, than to continue an unprofitable intercourse with a person whom you have ceased to esteem. Let not your heart be seduced by the beauty, the blandishments, or the accomplishments of FRIENDSHIP. 253 a young companion. Unless her principles are fixed, her aims are high, and she regards life as an education for eternity, unless you can sympathize with her in your serious moments, and talk with her of your immortal destiny, take her not to your bosom, give her not your confidence ; for her counsel will not strengthen your high and holy resolves, and when you most need her sympathy, she will fail you, and you w^ill find yourself to be leaning on a broken reed. None but the upright in heart are capa- ble of being true friends ; and none are upright, who do not make a conscience of all their ways, and learn wisdom by communion with the Father of spirits. Choose your friends from among these, and you will be saved many dis- appointments. So much has been written on the subject of friendship, and so much advice has been given to young girls on the choice of friends, that it is useless to expatiate on it here. If you wish to read some excellent remarks upon it, I would refer you to Mrs. Barbauld's "Essay on Friend- ship " ; and, though somewhat out of fashion, Mrs. Chapone's Letters contain much valuable matter, and, with a few allowances for the differ- ent state of society in which they were written, may be profitably consulted by young ladies at the present day. Mrs. Sigourney, too, has 254 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. a letter on friendship* which you will do well to peruse. My purpose is to exhibit the defective inter- course between inexperienced young girls, who fall into intimacies, which do not deserve the name of friendship, but which consume much time, and expose them to ill-natured observa- tion and misconstruction. As a specimen of what you may uncon- sciously subject yourself to, by unprofitable and uncongenial intimacies, I will here repeat a conversation from real life, just as it was told to me by one of the parties. " A young lady making me a visit, we hap- pened to speak of a pretty girl with whom I had observed that she passed a great deal of time, and whom she called her intimate friend,. I began as follows, ' Is Miss at school this afternoon ? ' 'Oh no, she does not go to school.' — ' She has a governess at home, I suppose ? ' — ' No, she is considered old enough to study by herself. They call it study, but I don't know how much she really does study. Nobody hears her lessons but her brother, and I fancy he is as ignorant as herself. They are none of them great geniuses.^ — ' 'Tis singular to let her go on so, at her age.' — ' 0, the rea- son for keeping her at home is, lest confine- * " Letters to young Ladies, by Mrs. L. H. Sigourney " published by William Watson, Hartford. THE TREACHEROUS FRIEND. 255 ment should hurt her ; you know her spine is diseased.' — ' No, I did not.' — ' What, when she is so crooked ! have you never observed how crooked she is. I thought everybody had observed that.' — ' I never have; it would be a pity for her form to be spoiled, she is such a pretty girl.' — ' Yes, most people call her pret- ty ; but I think her features are too small, and I have often heard it remarked, that she has absolutely no expression at all. My mother says she will not be pretty when she is growm up ; she has so little mind ; and her color is quite coarse, when you come near enough to examine it.' " " Ah, poor intimate friend ! " thought I. The speaker was reported to be a very amiable girl, for she said all these bitter things in a soft tone and with a sweet smile. A discrimin- ating listener would discover the Hack spot in her heart, in spite of her voice and smile ; and when youth is passed, it will no longer escape anybady's notice, and she will be know^n for what she really is. You can always judge better of a person's character by her manner of talking with others, than by what she addresses directly to you, and by what she says of others, than by what she says to them. A conversation like the above ought to put you on your guard against any intimacy with a girl capable of it. 256 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. The vivacity of youthful feelings is such, that it often hurries girls into intimacies, which soon after prove uncongenial and burdensome. You mistake an accidental agreement for a real sympathy, one agreeable interview for an insight into the whole character ; and thus, by judging too hastily, you judge wrong. Far be it from me to recommend a suspicious temper. I would rather see a young heart deceived again and again, than see it nourishing sus- picion as a habit of the mind; but I would have you make it a rule never to pledge your- self to any intimacy, until you have taken time to reconsider your first impressions, and to distinguish between the charm that really be- longs to a new acquaintance, and that which was thrown over your first interview by acci- dental circumstances and associations. Supposing, now, that your acquaintances are well chosen, and your intimate friends are wor- thy of your confidence ; what are the mistakes that you are most likely to commit in this re- lation ? Inadvertently betraying the secrets of one friend to another is a cruel injury and a fruit- ful source of difficulty. Do not suffer your- self to be easily bound to secrecy, for keeping a secret is a very troublesome and disagreeable thing ; but, when you are thus pledged, be scrupulously faithful. Many girls have a silly KEEPING SECRETS. 257 way of making a secret of something of no consequence whatever, and of telling it to each of their friends separately, and enjoining se- crecy on each. When you have been taken in once in this way, it is your own fault if you allow it a second time. Never encourage your young friends to tell their family secrets ; if they are indiscreet enough to wish to do it, you should repress their confidence. Never invite them, by direct or indirect questions, to tell you of the matri- monial overtures which they may have receiv- ed; respect their secrets, and love your friend the better for her reserve upon a point of such delicacy, and one in which the feelings of an- other are so deeply concerned. If you have been privy to any such affair, keep the secret strictly ; and let no impertinent questionings induce you to reveal it. Make it a rule to have nothing to do with any love affair that is carri- ed on without the knowledge and consent of parents. If you have inadvertently become a confidant of the beginning of any such affair, use all your influence to induce your friend to break it off, or to open her mind to her natural protectors ; if you cannot prevail upon her to do this, refuse any further confidence on the subject, and warn her in the most friendly way of her danger. In some cases, you would do right to inform her friends yourself of such a V* 17 258 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. clandestine affair, having previously given her notice that you intend to do it. There is generally something wrong, where there is much secrecy in the affairs of the young. If your aims are high, and your life is one of useful and honorable action, if you love mental cultivation, and live much in the com- pany of the great spirits of all ages, you will be lifted above the petty interests of gossiping girls; you will not care to know how much Miss such a-one gave for her new bonnet ; nor that Mr. A thinks Miss B ■— told some- thing to his disadvantage which broke off his match; nor any of the thousand things, as trifling as these, which are made the theme of so much whispering among young ladies. One of the great uses of reading is, that it furnishes you with interesting and safe topics of conversation with your young friends. To live with books is to inhabit a region far above the din and turmoil and petty vexa- tions which unnecessarily engross the minds of some who pretend to cultivation ; and you cannot turn your advantages of education to better account, than by inducing your female friends to read with you, and to exchange the frivolous gossip of the day for communion with the mighty spirits of the dead. It is very difficult, and requires all " the wisdom of the serpent and the harmlessness of READING SOCIETIES. 259 the dove," to talk of people, without violating the laws of charity or of truth ; it is therefore best to avoid it. By substituting books, and the vast variety of characters and opinions which they present, you give yourself and your companions ample scope for the expression of your thoughts and feelings, for the discus- sion of various questions, for sharpening each other's wits by collision of sentiment, correct- ing the judgment by comparison and discrim- ination, and strengthening the memory by re- petition and quotation. Stated meetings for reading are useful to fix the attention, and induce a habit of mental culture, where it is wanting ; but, where it exists, solitary reading turns to the best ac- count, especially if you have an intelligent friend with whom to talk over the ideas you have just acquired. Those who are beginning to educate themselves by the study of standard authors, and form reading societies for that purpose, would do well to seek some more cul- tivated person to preside over their meetings, and to rouse their minds to action by discours- ing w^ith them of what they read. Much good might be done to girls who have left school, if they could form classes and get highly culti- vated persons to read the English, French, and Italian classics with them, pointing out the 260 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. peculiar merits of each author, and lecturing upon them as they went along.* I have heard of reading parties among young ladies, where they meet to run through a few pages of a fashionable novel or modern poem, and, without having gained one idea from it, worth preserving, finish the evening in gos- sip, or flirtation, or perhaps a dance. Such are not the reading parties that I would recom- mend ; and yet the perusal of any moral work is better than a great deal of talk about noth- ing; and dancing is far better than gossiping; but, when a reading party might be made a high, intellectual treat, without any such ac- companiments, it is sad to see such opportuni- ties wasted. When you receive your young friends at your own house, you should consider yourself responsible for the direction w^hich the conver- sation takes; and, if it is becoming uncharit- able or unprofitable, you should feel bound to give it a safer and better impulse. The in- troduction of a beautiful annual, or portfolio of prints and drawings, will often answer the purpose; and the fashion of strewing centre tables with books of fine engravings has a moral use which makes it very valuable. I * This has been done by a gifted individual in Boston to largeclassos of ladies, and has been attended by the best results. DUTY OF A HOSTESS. 261 have seen the breath of scandal stopped, and an unpleasant topic changed, by the timely opening of one of these volumes. It must, of course, be done with expertness, and you must have something to say about the book, that will command the attention of the person whom you wish to divert from her own topic, or it will be only a rude interruption, and will not answer the desired end. When courteously and clev- erly done, it is a lawful use of your office as hostess. Intermeddling with the affairs of others is a sure way of getting into trouble. A real wish to do good, may sometimes lead you in- to it ; and therefore it is, that you need to be v/arned of its dangers by one old enough to have seen numerous instances, in which this good intention has failed, or resulted in noth- ing but harm. It is well to bear always in mind, that you can never know the merits of any case by hearing an account of it from one of the parties only. Let that party be ever so honest and truth-telling, her statement must be colored by her own peculiar views and feel- ings ; and this coloring, unconsciously given, may cause you to take a very incorrect view of the affair, and to think that your interference would do a great deal of good, when if you had heard the other side of the story, you would be convinced of the propriety of not intermed- 262 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. dling. When, however, you feel it to be your duty to become a mediator, you must be sure to hear both sides, before you make up your own judgment on the merits of either, and, in offering any mediation, be very careful to make yourself clearly understood, and be very exact in reporting the words of others. Avoid, if possible, taking sides in quarrels ; do not think it necessary, because you are in- timate with a person, to take part in all her differences with others. By keeping yourself aloof, you will be a more impartial judge of your friend's course than any partisan can be, and can better advise her what to do. Take especial care not to widen the breach by indis- creet repetition of what either says to the dis- advantage of the other. Beware lest you become a meddler, in the vain hope of being a peace-maker. If you have felt a real esteem and liking for a person, do not let a trifling offence separate you ; and, however strange her conduct may appear, do not judge it till you have given her an opportunity of explaining it to you. It often happens, that two persons think very hardly of each other's conduct, when ten min- utes' explanation would set it all right in the minds of each. When an intimacy is broken off, let the memory of former kindness keep your lips closed upon the subject; and let the CURIOSITY. 263 faith, pledged in days of confidence and love, be honorably maintained when these have pass- ed away. No conduct on the part of a former friend can excuse your betraying her secrets or exposing her faults. The indulgence of idle curiosity is a fault which equally torments its possessor and her friends. To desire vehemently to know things, which do not at all concern you, and are not in themselves interesting, is a disease of the mind, to which some persons are more liable than others ; it is also one which grows by indulgence, and ought therefore to be speedily checked. I know an instance in which a lady's happiness was disturbed for years by being un- able to find out how one of her friends dispos- ed of her cast-ofF clothes ; and another, in which the whole pleasure of a summer excur- sion was marred for one of the party, because there was a box among their baggage, the con- tents of which she could not find out. It is inconceivable to me, how any one can care for such things ; but, since some persons do, it is well to guard against the first symp- toms of such a disorder, or it may overgrow the mind, as in the following instance. Two old ladies lived in a small town on a great public road ; and, having secured a resi- dence directly opposite the only inn in the place, their chief employment and pleasure 264 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP consisted in watching the arrival of travellers, and sending their only domestic over to the public house, to ask where they came from, whither they were going, and what refresh- ment they had called for. Such idle curiosity as this argues a very weak and vacant mind ; but there are persons of considerable talent and some cultivation and refinement, who are nev- ertheless inordinately curious to know things which do not in any way concern them. To these I would say, give not the least entertain- ment to such a propensity; starve it, keep it down, till it is stifled. Fill up your time and your thoughts with pursuits worthy of a rational and immortal being, and there will be no room for impertinent and vagrant fancies. Of another kind of curiosity, an old writer has said, " As the first of all evils, as the source of calamity, as the beginning of pain, avoid, daughter of Eve, the bewitching charm of curiosity. Seek not to know what is improper for thee, thirst not after prohibited knowledge ; far happier is she who but know- eth a little, than she who is acquainted with too much." Never countenance, even by sitting in si- lence, any conversation that is meant to grat- ify the curiosity here alluded to. If there are any points in natural history that you have a reasonable desire to be enlightened upon, go to JEALOUSY. 265 your mother, and ask her in all soberness and simplicity to explain them to you ; and if she has wisely considered these things, or has read the excellent advice on this subject, given in " The Mother's Own Book," she will answer your inquiries with plainness and directness ; and you will acquire the knowledge you desire, without any sacrifice of modesty. Do not suppose that jealousy is a proof of love, as those say who wish to excuse it in themselves. It is a proof of a want of proper confidence either in yourself or your friends, and often produces the very coolness it fears. Jealousy is the offspring of a restless self-love, and should never be tolerated as an amiable weakness, or a proof of humility. Some girls are perpetually asking their young companions if they love them, and how much they love them, and if they are loved more than such and such persons, and think this solicitude a proof of an affectionate disposition; whereas it is, in reality, the sign of an overweening selfishness. I knew one case, where love was changed to hatred by this perpetual questioning about the degree in which it was felt. A true Christian humility makes us readily believe that we are loved as much as we de- serve to be, and, if we see others loved more, we are willing to admit that they may be more worthy of it. If we are accustomed to strict, w 266 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. impartial self-examination, we shall find so much evil in ourselves, as will excuse any want of love in those about us, and make us feel that we generally have more than we merit. God, in his goodness, has so constituted us, that the generous feelings of our nature not only tend to good, but are a good in them- selves, and produce their own reward, whilst the malevolent ones have an opposite nature and tendency. Thus love and admiration are agreeable sentiments j dislike and ill-will ren- der their possessors unhappy, and constitute their own punishment. If you feel dislike to- ward any of your companions, beware that it do not make you unjust ; do not foster it, or express it unnecessarily to others ; but learn this lesson from it, that others have a perfect right to dislike you, and that, too, without any very cogent reason, merely from distaste. In the private journal of that elegant scholar and accomplished man, Sir James Mackintosh, lately published with his Life, may be found this beautiful and candid statement. " has, I think, a distaste for me, which I believe to be natural to the family. I think the worse of nobody for such a feeling ; indeed I often feel a distaste for myself; I am sure I should not esteem my own character in anoth- er person. It is more likely that I should have disrespectable or disagreeable qualities, than TENACIOUSNESS. 267 that should have an unreasonable antipa- thy." From how many heart-burnings and unhappy feelings, would such a candor as this preserve us ! If we fully settle it in our own minds, that people have a right to dislike us, we shall feel no disposition to resent it ; and thus we shall be saved the pain of anger, and the sins to which it leads. A readiness to take offence is a sign of a narrow mind or a bad temper. The excuses which people make for noticing slight affronts will not stand a moment before the law of Christ, and are brought to nought even by the wisdom of this world ; for testy and tenacious persons are always defeating their own ends. 1 have seen a lady, who would otherwise have appeared very dignified and respectable, be- come the laughing-stock of a whole company, by tenaciously insisting on her rights. The various ceremonies observed in refined society are very useful in settling little points, on which there might otherwise be much doubt and perplexity ; but they should never be so strenuously insisted upon, as to make an acci- dental omission of them a ground of resent- ment, and an apology should always be accept- ed in their place. Without being ceremonious, you may always be polite ; and, as in the case of brothers and 268 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. sisters, the greatest possible intimacy should never induce you to dispense with politeness. This does not require that you should tell a young friend who calls on you at a very incon- venient time, that you are delighted to see her; but it requires that you should rise to receive her, and set a chair for her, and speak kindly of something that interests her; and when you have put her into a pleasant mood by your polite reception, you may, if necessary, tell her that you have an engagement which prevents your staying longer with her then, but you hope to see her again soon. There is a polished sin- cerity of manner, which it is very desirable to possess ; and, so far from true politeness hav- ing anything in common with deceit, I have always observed that persons of the most pol- ished manners could best speak the truth with- out giving offence. A French writer * on Po- liteness, says, " Instead of being artificial, in order to please, it is sufficient to be good- natured; instead of being insincere, in order to flatter the weaknesses of others, it is suffi- cient to be indulgent." If you would cultivate refinement of manners, you must never allow yourself to be rude or boisterous with your young companions. You may have all sorts of games, and play blind- man's buff with the little children, and yet * Duclos. REFINEMENT. 269 never lose the command of yourself, so as to become hoidenish and unfeminine. Whenever snatching and slapping is going on, if, instead of joining and retaliating, you withdraw from the sport, it will soon cease. There is much truth in the Italian proverb, " Giuoco di mano, giuoco di villano." Nor is such rude play of the hands all that should be avoided ; there is a custom among young ladies of holding each other's hands, and fondling them before company, which had much better be dispensed with. All kissing and ca- ressing of your female friends should be kept for your hours of privacy, and never be indulg- ed in before gentlemen. There are some rea- sons for this, which will readily suggest them- selves, and others, which can only be known to those well acquainted with the world, but which are conclusive against the practice. Be on your guard against girls who begin their acquaintance with you by getting you away by yourself, and there questioning you about the names of your beaux, and the num- ber of your embroidered capes. Put an end to such ridiculous talk at once ; you need not mince the matter ; they will \)eav plain dealing, and they require it. Be equally careful with those who begin by flattering you. Let them see that your opinion of your own merits and de- fects is not in the least altered by anything that 270 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. they can say ; and make them feel that they are taking a liberty with you, which you do not like. We should not encourage our best friends to repeat to us the flattering things that are said of us. The heart is so prone to take for true, the over-estimate of others, and become puffed up with vanity, that we should sedulously guard it from all such temptations. Young girls who have much personal attrac- tion, are often more injured by the flatteries of their own sex, than by those of the other. Some think it the height of generosity to tell a friend how much she is admired, and what such and such gentlemen have said of her ; they estimate the kindness of this, by the effort it costs them to do it, and the desire they have for similar praises ; but, in so doing, they show very little regard to the modesty or delicacy of the object of their mistaken kindness. Sometimes there is carried on between young girls a complete traffic in flattery ; they barter one scrap of praise for another. " I have a tell for you, if you have one for me," is often said in a jesting tone ; but it has, to those who are accustomed to live on this unwholesome diet, a very important meaning. I have often heard the bribe thus administered in a party, or at a ball, " How well you are looking to-night, how do I look?" The appetite for praise is like that for ar- SINS OF CONVERSATION. 271 dent spirits ; it grows by indulgence, till its cravings cannot be resisted ; they must be satisfied at any sacrifice; and the effects in the two cases are alike, the balance of the mind is destroyed and its healthful action impaired. If we would not become the victims of either kind of intemperance, we must be on our guard against the first step toward it; against the small draught, which seems at first so harmless, but which makes us crave a repetition of it till our ruin is complete. Who has not experienced the sad revolution of feeling which takes place, when, after an evening spent in the utmost gayety with an agreeable party of young friends, you begin to reflect on what has passed, and perceive that, in the hilarity of the moment, you have been betrayed into errors, which your conscience condemns I This is a very painful experience; but you should welcome the suffering, since it proves that your conscience is not hardened by the allowed commission of such faults. The de- sire of entertaining induced you to exaggerate and embellish every story you told ; it led you to ridicule those who are really worthy of re- spect ; for the sake of saying something funny, or witty, you sacrificed truth, justice, and char- ity. The laugh is over, your companions are gone, and you are left alone with a wound- ed conscience ; you repent, and resolve to do 272 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. better in future ; and yet, when the temptation recurs, you sin again. The most gifted in conversation are most liable to the commission of these errors ; it is so delightful to be the life of the company, to have all hanging on your lips for entertainment, to make all eyes sparkle, and all hearts bound with merriment. There is, to be sure, great enjoyment in this ; but if you have fine parts and a ready wit, exercise your powers in producing the same amount of gayety by innocent means ; and think how delightful it will be, w^hen, after enter- taining the company all the evening, you are left with an approving conscience. The commonest mode of amusement, is that of turning people into ridicule, and it requires very little sense or wit to do it. It is the cheapest of all kinds of fun, and the meanest. Its effect upon those w^ho indulge in it, is to harden the heart, sear the conscience, and blunt the perception of moral beauty. The pleasure, which its most unbridled exercise gives, is of a far lower order than that which a quick perception of goodness and moral great- ness affords, and the two are incompatible. The happiness of admiring is great and last- ing, and can be enjoyed alone ; the pleasure of ridicule is transient, and requires an audi- ence. The one trains the soul for future joys, the other incapacitates it for tasting them. RIDICULE. 273 It will cost you something to refrain from the faults of conversation here mentioned ; but if you will make the effort, you will be abun- dantly repaid. You will seem to feel your soul grow within you ; though your powers may be cramped in one direction, they will put forth more abundantly in another ; and you will soon perceive that, in avoiding exaggera- tion and ridicule, you have but got rid of rank weeds, that interfered with the growth of more valuable plants. When the love of ridicule leads girls to de- ride the beaux and lovers of their friends, they may inadvertently do much harm. For though ridicule is no test of character, and should never affect our estimation of any individual, the very girl who is most prone to indulge in it, will be most liable to be misled by it ; and may, in consequence of its effect on her mind, look coldly on the very man who is most desir- able as a match for her, and who would have succeeded in making himself acceptable, but for the distorted view she took of him through the ridicule of herself and her companions. Some believe that ignorance is a legitimate subject of derision ; but there cannot be a greater mistake. Your superior education has done little to raise and ennoble your nature, if you have not perfect charity and consideration for those who know less than you do. 18 274 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. Very giddy girls will sometimes so far forget themselves, as to ridicule personal defects ; they will speak like a stammerer, or listen like the deaf, or imitate the awkward movements of the near-sighted or the lame. Nothing can be more inhuman. All personal defects should be held sacred ; and, so far from indulging in mockery or laughter, they should not even be commented upon, or referred to, unnecessarily. No expression of disapprobation is too strong for you to use to your young companions, whenever they fall into this fault. It is not sufficient that you do not share in it, you should express your utter abhorrence of the practice. Few persons can bear to be laughed at ; it is a mode of attack which admits of no defence ; if you become the subject of it, and appear angry at the first laugh, it is sure to raise another at your expense, and so on. The best policy is to join in the laugh. The direst en- mities have been occasioned by laughter. A striking instance of this, is given by Miss Edgeworth, in her " Castle Rackrent," when she describes the bride of Sir Kit, just arrived from England, and laughing at all the peculiar- ities of her husband's Irish residence, partic- ularly at the name of a bog on his estate. This is the foundation of an enmity, that caused LAUGHTER. 275 her ladyship an imprisonment of seven years in her own house. Another great painter of human nature, Sir Walter Scott, makes the mortal hatred of old Elspeth for Eveline Neville to have originated in her having, when a school-girl, laughed at, and made sport of, the northern dialect of the Scotch w^oman. Whilst you strive to bear being laughed at yourself, be very careful how you inflict that pain on others. When a good-humored laugh has involuntarily been indulged in, at the ex- pense of one of the company, you should always try to say or do something directly after, which shall assure the person laughed at, that she has lost no esteem or regard by being the object of your merriment. A certain degree of reserve should be main- tained, even with your familiar acquaintance Never expose your person before them, never suffer them to intrude on what ought to be pri- vate hours and occasions. This is a proper self-respect, and you will not be loved any the less for maintaining it; though you may be called queer and over-particular. If 'you make a point of never going, uninvited, into the sleeping-rooms of your young companions, you can keep your own sacred from intruders, and it is very desirable that you should do so ; for, unless that retreat is respected, you must 276 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. be ever at the mercy of idle visiters, who, having no value for their own time, will not mind wasting yours. If you keep your room to yourself, you can often save some precious hours, by sending word you are engaged. There must always be times, when the entrance of your most intimate friend, unbidden, into your room, would be an unwelcome intrusion ; and therefore it is best never to begin the cus- tom with any one, and never to use the liberty, however kindly it may be urged upon you by another. Much time is frittered away in receiving and paying unmeaning visits, in stopping to talk when you ought to be doing something useful, in doubting, and deliberating, and consulting, about some trifling purchase, and in aimless, useless talk. If you are free from these follies, some of your companions are not; and, unless you can say no, when importuned to fall in with them, you will waste more precious hours than you are at all aware of, and the end of the week will come, before half its allotted tasks are ac- complished. If you have a plan of life, to which you strictly adhere, your young friends will respect it ; but if you let them seduce you from it once, they will of course repeat the at- tempt, their importunity will annoy you, and your occasional firmness will be called per- verseness. PRESENTS. 27T If you happen to borrow a little money from a friend, be very prompt and exact in repay- ing it, taking care to make up the exact sum in clean bank bills, and with as little copper as possible; fold the whole up in a piece of white paper, and direct it, so that it may be ready to be transmitted at a moment's notice. Never imagine, that carelessness about money mat- ters is a proof of generosity ; for, in order to be generous, you must first learn to be just. In the matter of giving and receiving pres- ents, there is more wisdom and good feeling required than very young people can well im- agine. Presents have as often made enemies as friends ; and, though the heart of a person must be wrong, where a well-meant offering is not kindly received, however unsuitable it may be, ill-chosen presents are sometimes resented as insults. The least exceptionable presents are those which consist of the work of your own hands. But then, you must be careful not to make something, the fashion of which has entirely passed away, or the materials of which are in- ferior to those then in use. You must ascertain that the article you propose making will be an acceptable gift, and that you can prepare it in the best manner, and then its being your own work is a compliment to your friend. It is best not to receive presents from those X 278 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. whom you do not esteem and love. By letting your sentiments be known on this point, you can generally avoid it without a direct refusal. Of purchased presents, there are none more useful or more elegant than books ; and, as these may be had at any price, and to suit every age and taste, you need never be at a loss what to get for a young friend. Rings are the most sentimental gifts, and should be reserved as expressions of real affection, and only accepted and worn when that affection is reciprocal. It is best not to accept, or bestow, very expensive presents, whilst you are still young. The least change in your feelings towards the person would make the obligation irksome, and perhaps cause the giver to repent her liberality. Never accept as a present any ornament or article of dress which is more expensive than suits your condition in life. Its inconsistency with the rest of your dress will mar, rather than improve your appearance ; and its having cost you nothing is no rea- son for wearing it. A present between equals should be merely the expression of a sentiment, and should be well chosen, but not very expen- sive, even where your means are large. Some rich girls, that are unpopular, strive to gain friends by extravagant gifts; these you may certainly refuse, for the sooner they learn their error, the better. If you have an allowance, CORRESPONDENCE. 279 and make your presents out of that, your gene- rosity is more exercised, than when you draw directly upon your father's purse ; in the latter case, he ought to be consulted in the purchases you make to give away, since they are more his gifts than yours. Always accept a present, however ill-chosen, in the same kind spirit in which it is offered ; and never allow yourself to criticize or depre- ciate it. Let not your appreciation of a gift be according to its intrinsic worth, but according to the value of the sentiment that prompted it. Let the cheapest offering of a rich heart be honored, and placed among those of great- est price. Some persons are mean enough to calculate the value of the presents they make, and of those they receive in return, to see whether they have their quid pro quo. Such had better tu.'n pedlers at once, and give up the name of lady altogether. The regular ex- changes of presents, which some people make on new-year's day, have rather too much the effect of barter, and too little of sentiment in them. If a present, among equals, be not the token of a feeling, that must be expressed, it is of no value; and if it be such a token, it is the heart must balance the account, not the purse. An extensive correspondence among girls of your own age is not desirable, it consumes too 280 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. much time ; but a few correspondents are use- ful as furnishing inducements for you to prac- tise the art of letter-writing. Do not feel bound to write to every girl that begs you to do so; but choose carefully w^hom you will have in that relation; and, when you have a few choice correspondents, do not neglect them and begin every letter with an apology; but write in due season, and waste no paper on commonplace excuses. Always notice the con- tents of your friend's letter, and endeavour to writ^ of those things which will most inter- est her. Madame de Sevigne praises her daughter for her attention to dates, which, she says, shows an interest in the correspondence ; a dateless letter certainly loses much of its value, and they are but too common. Remember the liability of a le"Lter to miscar- ry, to be opened by the wrong person, to be seen by other eyes than those for whom it is meant, and be very careful what you write to the disadvantage of any one. Praise and ad- mire as much as you please, but beware of blame. Your judgment may be wrong, and you know not when nor where it may come up against you, and make you sorry you ever penned it. Inexperienced letter-writers often feel pro- voked with themselves, when they have filled CORRESPONDENCE. 28 1 a sheet without touching on some topics, that they fully intended to introduce, and perceive that they have spread out one of inferior im- portance over half their paper. This may be avoided by considering, before you begin, all that you w^ish to write about, and allowing to each topic its proper space. If your correspondent require that her letters be kept private from all friends, make it a point of honor to comply with her wishes ; only make an exception in favor of your mother, in case she should desire to see the correspondence, for young ladies under age should gracefully acknowledge their parent's right of inspection; though, where there is a proper confidence on both sides, it will rarely be enforced. The more rational and elevated the topics are, on which you write, the less will you care for your letters being seen, or for paragraphs being read out of them ; and where there is no need of any secrecy, it is best not to bind your friend by promises, but to leave it to her dis- cretion. A letter, written m a fair, legible hand, with- out any blots or erasures, and properly folded, sealed, and directed, * is one very good index to a lady's character. * Directions how to do this, will be found in " The Youth's Letter- Writer," by Mrs. Farrar, published by Bartlett & Raynor, New York. 282 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. The letters of a regular correspondent should be endorsed and filed, as regularly by young ladies as by merchants ; this facilitates your reference to any one of them, prevents their being lost, or mislaid, or exposed to curious eyes, saves your table from being strewed, and your letter-case from being crowded with them. The letters of past years should either be destroyed, or carefully locked up, with direc- tions on the box, that in case of your death they are to be returned, unread, to the writers, or, if that cannot be done, that they should be burnt, unread. This disposal of letters after death is often the only important part of a young girl's last will, and yet this is rarely provided for. It is best to be always so pre- pared, by making the necessary arrangements whilst in health. The letters of very young persons rarely have any interest beyond the period in which they are written ; they are very seldom read after they are a year old, and the idea of keeping them for future perusal, is altogether chimerical; life is too short, and too much crowded with novel interests, to allow time for reading over quires of paper, filled with the chat of young girls, however good it may have been in its day; and, therefore, the wisest plan is, to agree with your correspondent, to CARE OF BOOKS. 283 make each a bon-fire of the other's letters when they shall be more than a year old. A year's letters are enough for a memorial of your friend, if she be taken from you j and, by keeping the latest, you will have her most mature compositions. As you value the minds of your friends, be ever ready to lend them your books ; although they may be misused and injured, yet lend them freely; offer them to those who do not care to borrow them, if, by so doing, you can excite a thirst for knowledge. If you would not lose your books, write your name legibly in the title-page, and keep a list of those that are lent, and of the persons borrowing them. If you would not have your books soiled, put on paper covers before they go out of your hands, and do the same when you use a borrowed book yourself. If a new book is lent to you, and you have not time to read it directly through, you had better return it, and borrow it again, than keep it lying- useless on your shelf, whilst others are longing to have it. If you take good care of your own books, you will not be likely to injure those you bor- row, by any of the careless tricks which are but too common ; such as eating cake or fruit over an open volume, and then shutting it up with crumbs between the leaves, that will in- 284 FEMALE COMPANIONSHIP. evitably make grease spots ; spilling tea or wine upon the pages or covers, making pencil marks, or turning down leaves ; but these things done to your books, will be a great trial of your equanimity. Yet it is better quietly to put up with this abuse of books, than not to have them used. If an accident happens to a book that you have borrowed, and you can replace it with another equally good, you are bound to do so; if it cannot be replaced, a very earnest expression of regret should ac- company it home. The attempt to hide an ac- cident, is often worse than the mishap itself, and offends the owner more. I have known a book to be borrowed and used without being covered, and so misused, that the back was burst open; when sent home, this was conceal- ed by a paper cover, and no mention made of it. This meanness was ten times worse than the ill-treatment of the book. Some persons have a senseless trick of nib- bling every thing they can lay hold of, like mice. I have seen the corners of book-covers disfigured in this way, of well-bound books, too, and have longed to ring the bell, and call for a piece of wood, to take the place of a beautiful morocco volume in the mouth of a nibbling lady. The corners of fire-screens and of drawings, gloves, pocket-books, fans, are all food to this kind of mouse, and I have heard of KASH JUDGMENTS* 285 a person who is so dreaded in this particular, that, when she is going to a friend's house, there is a general putting away of everything she can gnaw. I have spoken of the danger of rushing too hastily into intimacies, and forming rash judg- ments, from insufficient proof. If this is to be guarded against, where the opinion is favor- able, it is doubly to be avoided, when it is like- ly to be otherwise. How often do we hear one young girl speak of another, as selfish, and that too on some single instance! It is a very serious thing, to pronounce upon the motives of another ; selfishness is a grave charge, and should not be lightly made; it should show it- self in many unquestionable shapes, before we make up our minds, that it is the prevaling dis- position in any one. We should remember, also, that if we had no selfishness at all, we should not feel another's, when exercised to- wards us, and that it is generally those, who are most selfish themselves, that are most annoyed at the selfishness of others, and complain most of it. 286 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. CHAPTER XIIL Behaviour to Gentlemen. A great Mistake. — Effect of Example. — A good Listener. — Perpetual Smiles. — Personal Familiarity. — Receiving Com- pany alone. — Riding. — Pecuniary Favors, — Jokes. — Con- versation. — Platonic Love. — Offers and Refusals. — Behav- iour to Rejected Lovers. — Presents. — Flattery. — Distinction between Friends and Acquaintances. — Early Marriages. — Disappointed Affections. — Religion the only Cure for a Wounded Heart. What a pity it is, that the thousandth chance of a gentleman's becoming your lover, should deprive you of the pleasure of a free, unem- barrassed, intellectual intercourse with all the single men of your acquaintance ! Yet such is too commonly the case with young ladies, who have read a great many novels and romances, and whose heads are always running on love and lovers. Some one has said, that " matrimony is with women the great business of life, whereas with men it is only an incident ; " an important one, to be sure, but only one among many, to which their attention is directed, and often kept en- tirely out of view during several years of their early life. Now this difference gives the other sex a great advantage over you ; and the best way to equalize your lot, and become as wise A GREAT MISTAKE. 287 as they are, is to think as little about it as they do. The less your mind dwells upon lovers and matrimony, the more agreeable and profitable will be your intercourse with gentlemen. If you regard men as intellectual beings, who have access to certain sources of knowledge of which you are deprived, and seek to derive all the benefit you can from their peculiar at- tainments and experience ; if you talk to them, as one rational being should with another, and never remind them that you are candidates for matrimony, you will enjoy far more than you can by regarding them under that one aspect of possible future admirers and lovers. When that is the ruling and absorbing thought, you have not the proper use of your faculties ; your manners are constrained and awkward ; you are easily embarrassed, and made to say what is ill-judged, silly, and out of place; and you defeat your own views, by appearing to a great disadvantage. However secret you may be in these specu- lations, if you are continually thinking of them, and attaching undue importance to the ac- quaintance of gentlemen, it will most certainly show itself in your manners and conversation, and will betray a weakness that is held in especial contempt by the stronger sex. 288 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. Since the customs of society have awarded to man the privilege of making the first ad- vance towards matrimony, it is the safest and happiest way for woman to leave the matter entirely in his hands. She should be so edu- cated as to consider, that the great end of ex- istence, preparation for eternity, may be equal- ly attained in married or single life ; and that no union, but the most perfect one, is at all desirable. Matrimony should be considered as an incident in life, which, if it come at all, must come without any contrivance of yours, and therefore you may safely put aside all thoughts of it, till some one forces the subject upon your notice, by professions of a particular interest in you. Lively, ingenuous, conversable, and charming little girls, often spoil into dull, bashful, silent young ladies, and all because their heads are full of nonsense about beaux and lovers. They have a thousand thoughts and feelings which they w^ould be ashamed to confess, though not ashamed to entertain ; and their preoccupation with a subject which they had better let entire- ly alone, prevents their being the agreeable and rational companions of the gentlemen of their acquaintance, which they were designed to be. Girls get into all sorts of scrapes, by this undue preoccupation of mind ; they miscon- strue the commonest attentions into marks of A GREAT MISTAKE 289 particular regard, and thus nourish a fancy for a person who has never once thought of them, but as an agreeable acquaintance. They lose the enjoyment of a party, if certain beaux are not there, whom they expected to meet ; they become jealous of their best friends, if the beaux are there, and do not talk to them as much as they wish ; every trifle is magnified into something of importance, a fruitful source of misery, and things of real importance are neglected for chimeras. And all this gratuitous pains-taking defeats its own ends ! The labor is all in vain; such girls are not the most popu- lar, and those, who seem never to have thought about matrimony at all, are sought and prefer- red before them. We have been shown, in the most striking manner, by Miss Edgeworth, how " manoeuvr- ing " to get husbands defeats its owm aims in the old country; and its want of success here is even more complete. Where there is a fair chance of every woman's being married, who wishes it, the more things are left to their nat- ural course, the better. Where girls are brought up to be good daughters and sisters, to con- sider the developement of their own intellec- tual and moral natures as the great business of life, and to view matrimony as a good, only when it comes unsought, and marked by such a fitness of things inward and outward, as Y 19 290 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. shows it to be one of the appointments of God, they will fully enjoy their years of single life, free from all anxiety about being established, and will generally be the first sought in mar- riage by the wise and good of the other sex; whereas those who are brought up to think the great business of life is to get married, and who spend their lives in plans and manoeuvres to bring it about, are the very ones who re- main single, or, what is worse, make unhappy matches. Policy and propriety both cry aloud to the fair ladies of this favored country, to let the subject of matrimony alone, until properly pre- sented to their consideration, by those whose right it is to make the first advances. This is at once the safest, wisest, happiest course ; and I have been thus explicit upon it, in this chapter, beca.use right or wrong views of this subject will make the greatest difference in your behaviour to gentlemen. Let this one fruitful source of error be removed, and you will find it as easy to acquit yourself properly towards the young men, as the young women of your acquaintance. Women are happily endowed with a quick sense of propriety, and a natural modesty, which will generally guide them aright in their intercourse with the other sex, and the more perfectly wellbred and discreet you are, in EFFECT OF EXAMPLE. 291 your intercourse with female friends, the more easy will it be for you to acquit yourself well with your male ones. Very young girls are apt to suppose, from what they observe in older ones, that there is some peculiar manner to be put on, in talking to gentlemen, and, not knowing exactly what it is, they are embarrassed and reserved ; others observe certain airs and looks, used by their elders in this intercourse, and try to imitate them, as a necessary part of company beha- viour, and so become affected, and lose that first of charms, simplicity, naturalness. To such I would say, your companions are in error : it requires no peculiar manner, nothing to be put on, in order to converse with gentlemen, any more than with ladies ; and the more pure and elevated your sentiments are, and the better cultivated your intellect is, the easier will you find it to converse pleasantly vnth. all. If, however, you happen to have no facility ^in expressing yourself, and you find it very difl&- cult to converse with persons whom you do not know well, you can still be an intelligent and agreeable listener, and you can show, by your ready smile of sympathy, that you would be sociable, if you could. There is no reason in the world why any one who is not unhappy, should sit in the midst of gay companions, with a face so solemn and unmoved, that she 292 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. seems not to belong to the company ; that she should look so glum and forbidding that stran- gers should feel repulsed, and her best friends disappointed. If you cannot look entertained and pleasant, you had better stay away, for politeness requires some expression of sym- pathy in the countenance, as much as a civil answer on the tongue. There is an error, the opposite of this, a perpetual and unmeaning smile, or simper, which, if not so repelling as glum looks, is a more hopeless fault, because it is not com- mitted unconsciously, as the other is ; it is the result of a studied effort to please, and savours of affectation. I have seen the prettiest girl at a party, spoiled by this constant smile. A smile, to have an agreeable effect, must be the natural consequence of a kind, social feel- ing, and it must be followed by the repose of the risible muscles ; and these alternations should pass over the countenance, like the lights and shadows on a field of waving grain in summer. Cultivate, then, a feeling of social sympathy, and the expression of it will come unbidden. Never consider it allowable, in a company of your equals in age, to sit by, silent and unmoved ; such conduct is a damp upon the spirits of the rest, to whose pleasure you should feel bound to contribute your part. The expression of unsympathizing silence should PERSONAL FAMILIARITY. 293 be reserved for those occasions, where there is something going on, that you disapprove of; a grave countenance is then your best protest against the folly of those around you, and will often produce a better effect than words. If the natural feelings of modesty are not sufficient to guard you from all personal famil- iarity with the young men of your acquaint- ance, let good breeding, and good taste, aid you in laying down rules for yourself on this head. Never join in any rude plays, that will subject you to being kissed or handled in any way by gentlemen. Do not suffer your hand to be held or squeezed, without showing that it displeases you by instantly withdrawing it. If a finger is put out to touch a chain that is round your neck, or a breast-pin that you are wearing, draw back, and take it off for inspec- tion. Accept not unnecessary assistance in putting on cloaks, shawls, over-shoes, or any- thing of the sort. Be not lifted in and out of carriages, on or off a horse ; ysit not with an- other in a place that is too narrow; read not out of the same book ; let not your eager- ness to see anything induce you to place your head close to another person's. These, and many other little points of delicacy and re- finement, deserve to be made fixed habits, and then they will sit easily and gracefully upon you, heightening the respect of all who ap- 294 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. proach you, and operating as an almost invis- ible, though a very impenetrable fence, keep- ing off vulgar familiarity, and that desecration of the person, which has too often led to vice. The custom of a young lady's receiving company, apart from the rest of the family, is attended with many awkward circumstances and much waste of time. There are very few cases where it had not better be dispensed with. If a family is so situated, that the moth- er cannot spare time from her domestic duties, to receive the casual visits of her friends, her daughters had better be assisting her, than dressed up every day, at calling hours, and seated, unemployed, waiting the entrance of visitors. No one can expect to carry on any plan of study or usefulness, in a city, who allows her morning or evening hours to be given to company. Supposing, however, that, though living in a city, you so arrange your time, that you think you can give two hours before dinner to chance visitors; unless you can do it in company with your mother, or an elder sis- ter, it is placing yourself in a very awkward situation. You may, in this way, bring on your- self long tete-a-tetes with persons whose society is irksome to you, and be forced into acquaint- ances that are undesirable. If it be known, as it soon will be, that Miss A is always ready to see company at such an hour, your RECEIVING COMPANY ALONE. 295 parlour will be a lounge for all the idle youth of your acquaintance, whilst the more worthy part, being full of occupation, cannot appear there, and will think the less of you. for sitting in that manner, at the receipt of custom. For those who live in the country, where morning calls are rare,, and persons must go a long distance to make them, it would be quite out of place to refuse them; but, in a city, it is perfectly proper to reserve to yourself those precious hours, by saying you are engaged. When gentlemen are received in the morning, they should be shown at once into the common sitting-room, and their visit should be shared with the rest of the family ; this saves the em- barrassment of taking the visit wholly to your- self, and gives you a better opportunity of judging of character, by seeing them different- ly drawn out towards the various members of your family. Much may be inferred from the manner of behaving to your parents, and from the treatment of the little children ; if a per- son appear to advantage in these relations, the acquaintance prospers all the better for such domestic influences ; far better than it would, if you were shut up together in the best parlour, with nothing to do but to get over your embarrassment and make conversation. As to the propriety of receiving invited guests in a room apai't from the rest of the 296 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. family, that must be determined by the cus- toms of the place you live in, and the wishes of your parents. It never seems to me a desir- able thing. The spirits of young people are often so high, that they are carried away by them, and commit indiscretions for which they are afterwards very sorry, and which the pres- ence of elder friends would have prevented. I would have children on such friendly terms with their parents, that they should regard a mother's presence as no restraint upon their innocent merriment, only as a welcome regula- tor, to save them from extremes that they would themselves condemn, in a cooler mo- ment. When and where it is proper to take the arm of a gentleman, must be also determined by the customs of the society you live in; only be careful to keep within the prescribed bounds, whatever they may be, and think it no proof of wisdom or valor, to venture beyond them. Where it is thought proper for you to join large parties of young people, for the purpose of riding, walking, or sleighing, without any lady to matronize them, it may be best to go ; but if you can influence your young companions to invite a matron, it is highly desirable to do so, and it should add to your comfort and pleasure. Where there is none, you should RIDING WITH GENTLEMEN. 297 feel doubly on your guard to do only what is right, and not to be led away by your own or others' high spirits. Riding on horseback or in a chaise, alone with a gentleman, ought to be a mark of con- fidence, reserved for your most worthy and approved friends, and not done with every common acquaintance that asks you. The dangers attendant on horseback exercise to a lady, are so numerous, that it is always best to have a female friend in company, and if she has her escort, as well as you, your conversa- tion need not be interrupted ; and in case of accident, you will have female assistance, and be saved from very awkward predicaments. It is best to decide before you leave home, and let your parents or friends know, where you intend to go ; and, having calculated the time it will take, be very particular to return at the hour you are expected, or you may cause your family much uneasiness, and be beguiled by your companion into staying out unreasonably late. There is no propriety in voluntarily prolonging your ride, with a young gentleman, till after dark; even if there were no one at home, watching anxiously for your return. If you have a proper self-respect, you will not be lavish of your company to any one; if you have a proper estimate of the value of time, you will, as soon as one engagement 298 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. is ended, have some other occupation planned to succeed it You should always endeavour to avoid pecu- niary obligations to gentlemen, and contrive, through your father, brothers, or domestics, to be beforehand with them, or else to reimburse them what they may have paid for you. If elderly gentlemen, the fathers of families, seem really desirous of paying for you, you may let them ; but young men often think it a neces- sary piece of politeness to pay for ladies, even when they can ill afford it and secretly regret it; therefore it is safest to make a rule of never receiving such favors from those of your own age. Some girls not only allow young men to treat them to the play and other public places, but call upon a favorite beau to take a whole party of them to some such show. I have known a youth, who had not a spare dollar in the world, thus taxed, and obliged to borrow the necessary sum of a friend. Never condescend to use any little arts or manoeuvres, to secure a pleasant beau at a party, or during an excursion ; remember that a woman must always wait to be chosen, and " not unsought be won," even for an hour. When you are so fortunate as to be attended by the most agreeable gentleman present, do not make any effort to keep him entirely to JOKES. CONVERSATION. 299 yourself; that flatters him too much, and ex- poses you to being joked about him. How strange a thing it is, in the constitution of English and American society, that the sub- ject, of all others the most important, and the most delicate, should be that on which every- body is most given to joke and banter their friends. Much mischief has been done by this coarse interference of the world in what ought to be the most private and sacred of our earth- ly concerns ; and every refined, delicate, and high-minded girl should set her face against it, and, by scrupulously refraining from such jokes herself, give no one a right to indulge in them at her expense. Well-educated girls have a wide range of topics, w^hich afford plenty of agreeable and useful discussion, between them and their gentlemen friends ; and it is much better to talk with them, and with your female friends, of things than of people ; of books, pictures, and the beauties and wonders of nature, than of Miss A 's spoilt complexion, or Mr. B 's broken engagement, or the quarrel between C and D . If you are famil- iar with the works of great minds, and spend much time in reading them, or if you love na- ture and scientific researches, you need not be told to avoid gossip, you will have no relish for it. If not possessed of much mental culti- 300 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. vation, you may yet find topics enough without talking of people ; and it is so difficult to do that, without sinning against truth or charity, that it is best to avoid it whenever you can. Some girls, w^ho have but little sense and a great deal of vanity, try to attract the special regard of gentlemen by talking very sentimen- tally of themselves, their feelings, and ex- perience in life, and try to supply their own want of ideas by quoting largely from those of others. Very silly people can often repeat volumes of modern poetry, songs, and sen- tences from fashionable novels; but as it re- quires great sense and discrimination to make apt quotations, theirs are misplaced and be-' come very tiresome ; they miss their aim, too, for instead of its being agreeable, gentlemen have a great dread of reciting-ladies, walking scrap-books. If you wish to be on civil term^s with a gentleman, and to avoid all intimacy, talk to him only of things that are indifferent to you, and never speak of your private affairs or feelings ; if you wish to be kind, but still not intimate, encourage him to speak to you of his own concerns, and show a friendly interest in them. Speak of yourself only to your inti- mate friends, and of them, let the number be very limited and very well chosen. Mrs. Sigourney, in her excellent letter on Conversation, quotes the words of a German PLATONIC LOVE. 301 author to his daughter, which are so full of wisdom, that the young lady, who should make them her rule, would avoid half the scrapes of her companions ; they are as follows. " Con- verse always with your female friends, as if a gentleman were of the party, and with young men, as if your female companions were pres- ent " There is no objection to your having a great deal of friendly talk, and many social visits from gentlemen of approved character and known moral worth ; but do not fall into the prevalent fashion of talking about Platonic love, and having one gentleman devoted to you in public and in private, as your chosen friend and confidant. That is a folly pregnant with mischief, where it is entered upon in good faith, and it is rendered doubly odious by the use some ladies make of it, merely to secure to themselves a beau upon all occasions. Much nonsense is talked about Platonic love, by girls who know not the real meaning of the word, and who designate, by that term, the restless craving of their hearts for sympathy, but who are the farthest removed from the calm and pure sentiment described by Plato. As soon as young ladies go into general so- ciety, they are liable to receive attentions that indicate a particular regard, and, long before they are really old enough to form any such 302 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. ties, they often receive matrimonial overtures ; it is, therefore, highly necessary to know how- to treat them. The offer of a man's heart and hand, is the greatest compliment he can pay you, and, how- ever undesirable to you those gifts may be, they should be courteously and kindly declined, and, since a refusal is, to most men, not only a disappointment, but a mortification, it should always be prevented, if possible. Men have various ways of cherishing and declaring their attachment ; those who indicate the bias of their feelings in many intelligible ways, before they make a direct offer, can generally be spar- ed the pain of a refusal. If you do not mean to accept a gentleman who is paying you very marked attentions, you should avoid receiving them whenever you can; you should not allow him to escort you; you should show your dis- pleasure when joked about him ; and, if sound- ed by a mutual friend, let your want of recip- rocal feelings be very apparent. You may, however, be taken entirely by sur- prise, because there are men who are so secret in these matters, that they do not let even the object of their affections suspect their prefer- ence, until they suddenly declare themselves lovers and suitors. In such a case as that, you will need all your presence of mind, or the hesitation produced by surprise may give rise OFFERS AND REFUSALS. 303 to false hopes. If you have any doubt upon the matter, you may fairly ask time to consider of it, on the grounds of your never having thought of the gentleman in the light of a lover before ; but if you are resolved against the suit, endeavour to make your answer so decided, as to finish the affair at once. Inexperienced girls sometimes feel so much the pain they are inflicting, that they use phrases which feed a lover's hopes ; but this is mistaken tender- ness ; your answer should be as decided, as it is courteous. • Whenever an offer is made in writing, you should reply to it as soon as possible ; and having, in this case, none of the embarrassment of a personal interview, you can make such a careful selection of words, as will best convey your meaning. If the person is estimable, you should express your sense of his merit, and your gratitude for his preference in strong terms ; and put your refusal of his hand, on the score of your not feeling for him, that peculiar preference, necessary to the union he seeks. This makes a refusal as little painful as possible, and soothes the feelings you are obliged to wound. The gentleman's letter should be returned in your reply, and your lips should be closed upon the subject for ever afterwards. It is his secret, and you have no right to tell it to any one; but if your parents 304 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. are your confidential friends on all other occa- sions, he will not blame you for telling them. Your young female friends should never be allowed to tease or banter you into the betray- al of this secret. You cannot turn your inge- nuity to better account, than by using it to baffle their curiosity. Some girls are tempted to tell of an offer and refusal, in order to account for a cessation of those attentions, on the part of the gentleman, which have before been so constant and marked, as to be observ- ed by their friends. • But this is no sufficient reason for telling another person's secret. You cannot always prevent a suspicion of the truth, but you should never confirm it by any disclo- sure of yours. If you are so situated as to meet the gentle- man whose hand you have refused, you should do it with frank cordiality, and put him at ease by behaving as if nothing particular had passed between you. If this manner of yours is so far mistaken, as to lead to a renewal of the offer, let him see, as soon as possible, that he has nothing to hope from importunity, and that if he would preserve your friendship, he must seek for nothing more. Always endeavour to make true friends of your rejected lovers, by the delicacy and honor with which you treat them. If, when your own conduct has been unexceptionable, your refusal to marry a man PRESENTS. 305 produces resentment, it argues some fault of character in him, and can only be lamented in silence. The feeling of many a high-minded man, on such an occasion, is akin to that which I once knew expressed by a noble and delicate soul, who had loved a friend of mine in vain ; so far from feeling mortified or angry, he said, " I am proud to have loved you." Such a sen- timent does honor to both parties. Never think the less of a man because he has been refused, even if it be by a lady whom you do not highly value. It is nothing to his dis- advantage. In exercising their prerogative of making the first advances, the wisest will occasionally make great mistakes, and the best will often be drawn into an affair of this sort, against their better judgment, and both are but too happy, if they escape with only the pain of being refused. So far from its being any reason for not accepting a wise and good man when he offers himself to you, it should only increase your thankfulness to the overruling Providence of God which reserved him for you, and to the lady, through whose instrumentality he is still free to choose. Accepting presents from gentlemen is a dan- gerous thing. Some men conclude from your taking one gift that you will accept another, and think themselves encouraged by it to offer their hearts to you; but, even when no misap- z* 20 306 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. prehension of this kind follows, it is better to avoid every such obligation, and if you make it a general rule never to accept a present from a gentleman, you will avoid hurting any one's feelings, and save yourself from all further perplexity. Where ladies are known to be in the habit of refusing presents, and yet are objects of great admiration and devotion, they will often re- ceive anonymous gifts, which it is impossible to elude. When this is the case, it is a good way to put them by, out of sight, and never to mention them. The pleasure of seeing them on your table, and hearing them talked about, and the donor's name speculated upon, is often suf- ficient to induce a repetition of the anonymous deed, or an acknowledgment of it, which is very embarrassing, as you must either break your rule, or hurt the feelings of the donor. Of all the votive offerings made to the young and the fair, flowers are the most beautiful and most unexceptionable. Where it is the fashion for gentlemen to present bouquets to their fe- male friends, so many are given, that it seems more like a tribute to the sex, than a mark of particular regard, and their perishable nature exempts them from the ban put upon more en- during memorials. You can accept and wear flowers without committing yourself, and to refuse them would be unnecessary rigor. If MISUSE OF POWER. FLATTERY. 307 any peculiar circumstances make you desirous of distancing a gentleman, you can take the flowers without wearing them. If it be unsafe to receive presents, it is doubly so to make them to gentlemen, and should never be done except under peculiar circumstances. If a young friend is going away, on some distant expedition, and you, with other girls, present him with something that will be useful to him on his journey, it is all very well. If the joke of Philipine has passed round a circle, you with the rest can make and receive the forfeited gifts without any impropriety ; this is very different from sentimental tokens given privately; these have so much the appearance of a lady's courting a gentleman, that modesty should forbid it. Suffer not the jokes of thoughtless compan- ions to lead you into the cruel mistake of using the power which a man's love gives you over him, to make him appear ridiculous, or to tyr- annize over him in any way. This is a most ungenerous proceeding, and yet very good girls are sometimes guilty of it. Mistrust a flatterer, whether he make the graces of your person or your mind, the theme of his eulogiums. Many women, who are proof against the flattery addressed to their person- al charms, are blinded by that which touches their intellectual endowments ; but it is all 308 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. equally injurious, and equally to the discredit of the person who offers it. A gentleman may make you sensible that he admires you, that he has a due appreciation of your powers and at- tainments, without flattering you; but if he does that, if he entertains you with your own praises, and is constantly paying you fine compliments, he does not respect and esteem you ; and you should let him perceive that he has mistaken the means of recommending him- self to your good graces. Some gentlemen try to make themselves agreeable to one young lady, by disparaging others of her acquaintance. This shows that a man has a poor opinion of the sex, and that he considers you envious of the charms of your companions ; and you will do well to convince him of his mistake. There should be a wide distinction observed between the casual acquaintance made in a party, or during an excursion, and those whom you allow to visit you on friendly terms. Among the former may be men of doubtful, or even bad character, to whom you cannot always avoid being introduced ; but towards whom you should maintain a very cold, reserved man- ner. Such should never be allowed to visit you at your own home ; that privilege should be reserved exclusively for men of irreproach- able morals. If you are so happy as to have EARLY MARRIAGES. 309 good brothers, who are grown up, they can assist you greatly in ascertaining the charac- ters of the gentlemen you know, and in select- ing for friends only the truly deserving. Do not be afraid to refuse the acquaintance of a known libertine, it is a tribute which you owe to virtue, and, if generally paid, would do more to purify society, and keep the moral standard of it high, than the laws of the land or the eloquence of the pulpit. In treating the subject of behaviour to gen- tlemen, I shall not attempt to say much on the great topics of love and marriage. I would fain believe that I am writing for a class of ladies too young to need much advice upon that; and though I occasionally hear of school- girl Sj who forfeit the privileges and pleasures of being grown-up young ladies, and jump at once into the cares of married life, I trust, that increased knowledge and wisdom, on the part of the young and old, will prevent such imma- ture marriages, and give women an opportunity of being more fully developed in body and mind, before they subject either to the severe trials which belong to wives and mothers. Mr. Combe thinks, that " many young peo- ple of both sexes fall sacrifices to early mar- riages, who might have withstood the ordinary risks of life, and lived together in happiness, if they had delayed their union for a few years. 310 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. and allowed time for the consolidation of their constitutions." Early marriage also, prevents the literary- education of a girl being carried far enough, for it to go forward easily amid the cares of a family, and, therefore, it often ceases alto- gether ; in a few years, she loses what little she acquired at school, and degenerates into a mere housekeeper and nurse. The married school-girl deprives herself of a most delightful and useful stage in her exist- ence, that of a grown-up daughter, maturing under the eye of a mother and the influence of a home circle, with time enough for mental culture, and a useful experience of domestic affairs, without the care which belongs to the mistress of a family. She loses all the varied pleasures of a young lady, and skips at once from childhood to married life. Another reason for my not entering fully into the subject of love and matrimony, is, that every book of advice for young ladies is full of it, and you can easily find it elsewhere. It is the principal material in every novel and tale, and the best fictions of our day hold up to view the mistakes and faults, which young persons are most likely to commit, in a more impressive manner than can be done here. The writings of Miss Edgeworth abound with excellent lessons on the proper regula- DISAPPOINTED AFFECTIONS. 311 tion of the affections, and on the consequences of various faults which young ladies are prone to commit, and to them I refer you for further light on the subject. There is, however, one branch of this impor- tant subject, which it behoves me to touch upon, because it is fruitful of misery if not nipped in the bud, and it is only by having the mind early trained to right views of it, that the heart can possess power enough to combat it. I allude to that greatest of trials to a woman, disappointment in love, either from an unrequited attachment, or a misplaced one These are the secret sources of half the wretch- edness and ill health, that we see among women ; and to guard sedulously against this catastrophe should be one of the aims of fe- male education, and the concern of the best friends of youth. So very common is it for women to be dis- appointed in their first loves, that an English writer has said, she considered the loss and recovery of the heart, to be to the mind, what the whooping-cough, or measles, is to the body, a necessary disorder to be gone through, after which come maturity and health. But I would not have the fair daughters of this happy land to consider this painful experience of the heart as so inevitable a process, though it is well to regard it as one, from which it is possible 312 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. entirely to recover. Religion has a balm for the heart's worst wounds. Those who have languished through long years of suffering, occasioned by an early disappointment, and found all the pleasures of the world insufficient to fill the void, have felt themselves to be cur- ed, as by a miracle, when they gave their hearts wholly to God, and made his love their supreme good. Peculiarly necessary to wo- man's tender nature, is the shield which true piety affords to the affections ; and if she would only give her heart first to God, she would be in little danger of bestowing it after- wards unw^orthily or in vain. Religion has always been considered as a refuge for the unhappy, but its power will be more perfectly manifested, when the young and the gay em- brace it, as the surest defence against senti- mental suffering, and the best guide to happi- ness in this world. The more perfectly you perform all your duties, the more diligently you carry on your moral and intellectual education, the higher is your standard of character, and the more spir- itual are your aims, the less will be your dan- ger from the tenderness of your heart. Instead of thoughts about love and marriage being busy and importunate, they will take their proper place in your mind, you will go on your way enjoying life by " doing good and making DISAPPOINTED AFFECTIONS. 313 others happy," and, when the right time and the right person come, your attention will be properly called to the subject, the attraction will become mutual, and a strong individual attachment will grow up in your heart, adding to your happiness, strengthening your highest and holiest feelings, filling your soul with gratitude to God and to the fellow-disciple who has chosen you to be his help-mate for time and for eternity. Since but a small proportion of the rising generation give themselves thus early to God, and so serure themselves against the thousand ills and temptations that beset their path ; since women are prone to think much of love, to read books of sickly sentimentality and the poetry of amatory bards ; since girls will put it into each other's heads, that they are in love, or that some one is in love with them, it is desirable that they should understand the first symptoms of the disorder, and take early and vigorous measures to stop its dangerous course. Love, in the heart of a woman, should partake largely of the nature of gratitude ; she should love, because she is already loved by one de- serving her regard ; and if you never allowed yourself to think of gentlemen in the light of lovers or husbands until you were asked to do so, you would escape much suffering. AA 3 14 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. The credulity of women, on the subject of being loved, is very great; they often mistake a common liking for a particular regard, and, on this foundation, build up a castle in the air, and fill it with all the treasures of their bright hopes and confiding love, and, when some start- ling fact destroys the vision, they feel as if the whole creation were a blank to them, and they were the most injured of women. It is safer to be very skeptical on the subject of being loved ; but, if you do make the mistake, take all the blame to yourself, and save your digni- ty by secrecy, if you cannot keep your heart from loving. If you only have a wholesome dread of being entangled, and watch over your preferences with a jealous eye, you need never be caught in the snares of Cupid. If one person is becom- ing uppermost in your thoughts, if his society is more and more necessary to your happiness, if what he does and says seems more important than that of any one else, it is time to be on your guard, time to deny yourself the danger- ous pleasure of his company, time to turn your thoughts resolutely to something else. The beginning of a preference may be checked, it may be stifled to death; it is only by indul- gence that it becomes unmanageable. Speak- ing of it to any one, even to your bosom friend, is dangerous ; so long as no one knows your DISAPPOINTED AFFECTIONS. 315 weakness, you have strong inducements to behave as if it did not exist, and that self- command is good for you. Directing the mind vigorously to some new study, is a w^holesome remedy, and a generous devotion of yourself to the interests and happiness of others, will save you from dangerous reverie and painful reflections. There are few partialities, which, if taken early enough, and dealt with in this way, cannot be overcome without any breaking of hearts, or destruction of health and happi- ness ; whilst the power gained by such self- discipline, is a permanent advantage to the character. For good paternal advice upon the subject of discovering a prepossession, I would refer you to that which Mr. Tyrold gives his daughter, in the novel of " Camilla " by Mrs. D'Arblay. Where the attachment has ever been recip- rocal, and has been allowed to gain ground, before the necessity came for combating it, the struggle will of course be harder, and the suffering much greater. I know of no sufficient remedy for this, but vital piety ; that giving of the heart to God, which enables a disciple to say, " Whom have I in heaven but Thee, and there is none on earth, that I desire, in comparison of Thee." f :> '? 3 The cure for a wounded heart, which piety affords, is so complete, that it makes it possi- 316 BEHAVIOUR TO GENTLEMEN. ble for the tenderest and most constant natures to love again. When a character is thus dis- ciplined and matured, its sympathies will be called forth, only by superior minds ; and, if a kindred spirit presents itself, as a partner for life, and is accepted, the union is likely to be such, as will make the lady rejoice that her former predilection was overruled. LYCEUM LECTURES. 317 CHAPTER XIV. Conduct at Public Places. Lyceums. — Use of Lectures. — The meaning of Lady. — Good Manners. — The Golden Rule. — Suffocating Many to please a Few. — Little Acts of Rudeness. — Public Cele- brations. — Example of 111 Conduct. — True Politeness. — Shopping. — Deportment in the Street. — Avoiding Con- tact. — Apologies. — Taking the Wall. — Draggled Clothes. Behaviour at Church. The admirable institution of Lyceum lec- tures should be held in great esteem by wo- men, if it were only for the good they do those who would otherwise never quit the narrow round of household cares ; and who have no access to libraries, or to cultivated society ; as well as to those who think they have no time to drink at those fountains. To such, even the sprinkling of a Lyceum lecture is refreshing, and sometimes leads to a draught from other streams. Lectures are valuable, not so much, perhaps, for the amount of information they convey, as for the ideas they suggest, the means of knowl- edge they point out, the direction they give to the thoughts. A lecture on the life and wri- tings of some great man, sets many of the audi- ence to reading his works, and enables them to do it understandingly; they have learned from the lecture the scope and tendency of the 318 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. book, and, from the account of the author, they can better understand his writings. A lecture on any branch of natural history leads people to examine specimens, and to read books upon the subject; and this impulse giv- en to minds, that would otherwise rust in in- activity, is an incalculable good. But, in order to reap the full benefit of a course of lectures, it is necessary to make a study of the subject whilst attending it, and to make copious notes of each lecture from memory. However inter- ested you may be at the time, you easily forget all you have heard, unless you make a written memorial of it, whilst it is fresh in your mind. Besides the direct advantages of this sort of instruction, there are indirect ones to be gain- ed. It suggests useful topics of conversation, and promotes sociability among neighbours ; it affords opportunity for learning to respect the rights of strangers, and to behave courteously and delicately to all. The conduct of others, under such circumstances, is a living and in- structive lesson, presenting models of all that we ought to imitate or avoid. It is well to bear in mind, if you happen to be the daughters of a rich man, that all, who attend lectures together, meet on terms of per- fect equality. You have, therefore, no claim to certain seats because you have before occupi- ed them ; no right to hinder others from hear- THE MEANING OF "LADY." 319 ing well, because the subject is so familiar to you, that you had rather whimper than listen; no right to go in late, disturbing the audience and advancing to the front seats, secure that the best will be relinquished to you, as soon as you appear to wish for them. All this is extremely offensive and ill-bred, and no real lady, in the true sense of that much abused word, would ever be guilty of such conduct. It may be well here to state, what I mean by the terms lady and gentlewoman. In this privil- edged land, where we acknowledge no distinc- tions but what are founded on character and manners, she is a lady, who, to in-bred mad- esty and refinement, adds a scrupulous atten- tion to the rights and feelings of others. Let her worldly possessions be great or small, let her occupations be what they may, such an one is a lady, a gentlewoman. Whilst the person who is bold, coarse, vociferous, and inatten- tive to the rights and feelings of others, is a vulgar woman, let her possessions be ever so great, and her way of living ever so genteel. Thus we may see a lady sewing for her liveli- hood, and a vulgar woman presiding over a most expensive establishment. In no country is it more important to culti- vate good manners, than in our own ; and yet there is a great deficiency of care and instruc- tion, in this particular. A young girl often 320 CONDUCT A.T PUBLIC PLACES. grows up, without ever being told, that to laugh audibly in public, or in crowded assem- blies, is not good manners ; that presenting herself at the end of a crowded bench, and looking for a seat, till some gentleman feels himself obliged to give her his, is very ill-bred ; yet all these points should be well settled in a young lady's education ; and those who have had the greatest advantages in this way, should be ready to set an example worthy of imitation, to those who look up to them. If you have a true sympathy for the listeners at a Lyceum, if you have a benevolent wish that the whole audience should be well accom- modated, and a wholesome fear of disturbing, or incommoding, any part of it ; if, in short, you think more of others than of yourself, as Christian politeness dictates, you will never do anything rude or ill-bred ; or be thoughtless of others in a lecture-room. You \vill be careful not to wear any head- dress that will prevent those behind you from seeing well ; you will never, by whispering, hinder those around you from hearing easily ; you will never seem to claim any particular seat as your right ; you will never attempt to keep seats for those of your party, who come later than you; you will never suffer, much less oblige, a gentleman to relinquish to you the good seat which he has fairly earned, by going THE GOLDEN KULE TRANSGRESSED. 321 very early, and sitting long in patience. You will carefully avoid going in late, and disturb- ing the company, after the lecture has begun ; but, if you do chance to arrive late, you will step softly and take the first seat you can find, instead of making further interruption, by pa- rading through the room in search of a better. Where the seats are arranged, as in an amphi- theatre, it makes very little diflference on what part of a bench you sit ; and therefore, if you are the first to occupy it, and it is open at both ends, you should take the middle of it ; if open only at one end, you should take that part next the wall; because, by not doing this, you either oblige people to crowd past you, or you make a great stir by moving, every time one is added to the number ; the seat, too, appears to be full when it is not, and persons sit very far back, who might have filled it up, and been better accommodated. Always think of the good of the whole audience, rather than of your own individual convenience. This rule is often transgressed in crowded assemblies, in warm weather ; the windows are opened for the good of the whole; but the air comes too powerfully on the neck of some in- dividual, and she very coolly desires that the window may be shut, entirely regardless of those, who, in the middle of the building, are panting for that breath of fresh air, which she 21 322 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES, is shutting out. Health and life may depend on your not sitting in that draught of air ; but if so, you should protect yourself by additional clothing, change your seat, or leave the place, rather than incommode hundreds by having a window shut on your account. I have seen a large assembly of people almost suffocated for want of fresh air, in consequence of one window after another being closed, at the request of some two or three persons sitting by them. It is a great pity that the mode of ventilating used in England,* to prevent the air from blowing upon those next to a window, is not adopted in our country, where it might be the means of preserving the health now sacrificed to breath- ing bad air, or sitting in strong currents from a window ; but since it is not, you should go provided with a shawl, and, if you cannot bear a draught, choose a seat in some sheltered corner. When anything is handed round at a lec- ture to be looked at, remember that your eyes * In English churches and lecture-rooms, the top edge of one of the upper panes of glass in each window is made to fall forward into the room, three or four inches, and secured in that position by goring-pieces of glass fixed on each side ; a glass cover is made with hinges to shut down upon the opening thus left, and this is pulled up by a string when air is wanted ; or it can be left always open, as the slope of the pane prevents any rain from beatinsf in. CONDUCT AFTER THE LECTURE. 323 are not at your fingers' ends, and be satisfied without touching the article. When specimens are exhibited on a table after the lecture, they are often seriously injured by handling ; and that, too, after the earnest request of the lecturer that the audience would refrain from touching them. This is very inconsiderate and ungenerous, and no lady will be guilty of it. However delicately you may finger them, you ought not to attempt it ; you should set an example of forbearance to those whose mode of handling may be less gentle. When the lecture is over, and the greetings of friends begin, be careful that your voice is not heard above the gentle hum around you, either in laughter or conversation. Deli- cacy and refinement require that a young lady should never make herself conspicuous in a public assembly; and, if by any chance your high spirits have betrayed you into an audible laugh, check yourself as soon as possible, and meet, with sober and modest looks, the gaze which you have drawn upon yourself; do not try to brave it out, as if it were all right, and people had no business to look at you ; that only makes the matter worse. Be careful not to press against people, not to tread on their clothes in going down stairs, not to incommode others by stopping to speak to friends, and so blocking up the way ; if you have so incom- 324 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. moded anybody, apologize in the most civil manner, and draw back to let them pass. The best way to overcome the selfishness and rudeness you sometimes meet with on public occasions, is by great politeness and disinterestedness on your part ; overcome evil with good, and you will satisfy your own con- science, and, perhaps, touch theirs. Contend- ing for your rights stirs up the selfish feel- ings in others ; but a readiness to yield them awakens generous sentiments, and leads to mutual accommodation. The more refined you are, and the greater have been your advanta- ges, the more polite and considerate you should be toward others, the more ready to give place to some poor, uneducated girl, who knows no better than to push herself directly in your way. On all public occasions in this country, there is great attention paid to the accommodation of the female part of the audience. Certain seats are allotted to their use, and they are ad- mitted to them before the house is otherwise occupied ; but, as there are often more than can get in, there is sometimes such crowding, push- ing, squeezing, and elbowing at the doors, be- fore they are open, and such a rush when ad- mittance is gained, that it is a scene little creditable to the delicacy and refinement of our ladies. A gentlewoman should never for- get herself, should never do anything that PTTBLIC OCCASIONS. 325 is ungentle, should never run, jump, scream, scramble, and push, in order to get a good seat anywhere ; she should not force herself into a place that is already nearly full; but, if she thinks there may be room for one more, she should ask it politely. This courtesy opens the hearts of the people around her, and they make room for her with pleasant feelings, in- stead of resenting her presence as an intrusion. On public occasions, there are rules laid down for the good order of the day, and offi- cers appointed to carry them into effect ; to in- fringe on those rules, and resist that authori- ty, is a mark of bad citizenship in a gentle- man ; but for ladies to use the privileges, gen- erously awarded them by the stronger sex, to break through the rules of the day, is high- ly indecorous and unlady-like. I have been ashamed of my sex, when I have seen women, (for I will not call them ladies,) refuse to obey the orders of the marshals, and insist on keep- ing seats that were intended to be reserved for the military ; thus taking advantage of the courtesy shown to them as females, to do that, which men would have been turned out of doors for doing. When women so far forget themselves, the officers of the day would be justified in forgetting they are women, and in treating them as they would men. When you are unpleasantly leaned upon, BB 326 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. or unnecessarily crowded by the thoughtless women about you, if, instead of a peevish re- mark or angry look, you address their kind feelings, in a kind manner, and ask them to oblige you by doing differently, they will sel- dom fail to become civil and accommodating. I have seen the most determined expression relax under such treatment, and the most pro- truding elbows robbed of their sharpness by courteously giving way before them. If you wish to be a well-bred lady, you must carry your good manners everywhere with you. It is not a thing that can be laid aside and put on at pleasure. True politeness is uni- 'form disinterestedness in trifles, accompanied by the calm self-possession which belongs to a noble simplicity of purpose ; and this must be the effect of a Christian spirit running through all you do, or say, or think ; and, unless you cultivate it and exercise it, upon all occa- sions and towards all persons, it will never be a part of yourself. When you try to assume it for some special purpose, it will sit awkwardly upon you, and often fail you, at your utmost need. If you are not polite to your washer- woman, you are in great danger of not being so to the lady whom you most wish to propiti- ate ; you cannot be sure of possessing yourself; rudeness of manner, occasionally indulged, will steal upon you unawares. The charm, which SHOPPING. 327 true Christian politeness sheds over a person, though not easily described, is felt by all hearts, and responded to by the best feel- ings of our nature. It is a talisman of great power, to smooth your way along the rugged paths of life, and to turn towards you the best side of all you meet. This politeness is very essential to the right transaction of that great business of woman's life, shopping. The variety afforded by the shops of a city renders people difficult to please, and the latitude they take in examin- ing and asking the price of goods which they have no thought of buying, is so trying to the patience of those who attend upon them, that nothing but the most perfect courtesy of de- meanor, can reconcile them to it, and then it is hard enough to bear. Shopping in the country is quite a different thing; it is a se- rious business, despatched with all conveni- ent speed, at the end of a long ride or walk, and, if the country store does not contain what you want, you must take what you can get, and make the best of it. Instead of be- ing assiduously waited upon and pressed to buy, you can hardly get the busy owner's eye or ear, or find out the price of the articles you really wish to purchase ; the customers, on a fine day, are so numerous and the attendance so scanty. There is very little pleasure in such 328 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. shopping, and very few of the temptations which belong to what passes under this name in a city, where it is often a favorite pastime of young ladies. It furnishes an excuse, in their opinion, for entering all the finest shops, and looking at all sorts of pretty things. They like the consequence, which they fancy they derive from being the purchaser of some ar- ticle, which is to them a great affair, and to which they attach so much importance, that they will spend hours, and walk miles, to get a particular shade of color, or the precise form and texture, on which they have set their hearts. Too much time and too many thoughts are often lavished, in this way, on trifles; and the truly conscientious would do well to set bounds to their fancy in this respect, and to have some consideration for those who wait upon their caprices. If, when you wish to buy a pair of gloves, or a belt, or a bonnet ribbon, you go into twenty stores, and tumble over the goods in each, and take up the time, and try the patience of twenty people, think how dis- proportioned is the trouble you give, to the want in question. Some persons behave in shopping, as if no one had any rights, or any feelings, but the purchasers ; as if the sellers of goods were mere automatons, put behind the counter to do their bidding ; they keep them waiting, whilst they talk of other things SHOPPING. 329 with a friend ; they call for various goods, ask the price, and try to cheapen them, without any real intention of buying. A lady who wants de- cision of character, after hesitating, and debat- ing, till the poor trader's patience is almost ex- hausted, will beg him to send the article to her house, for her to examine it there ; and, after giving him all this trouble, she will refuse to purchase it, without any scruple or apology. Some think they have a right to exchange ar- ticles at the place where they were bought ; whereas, that privilege should be asked as a fa- vor, only where you are a good customer ; and then, but rarely. For the sake of buying a com- mon calico dress, some girls will run through all the dry-goods stores they can find, tumbling over a counter-full of printed goods in each ; asking for patterns at every place, and yet not make up their minds to buy either. They are so puzzled by the variety, they cannot choose. Now, would it not be far better, to confine your- self to two or three stores where you are known, and where you can rely upon what is said, and where they have but one price ? It is a great mistake, to suppose that you get things cheap- er, for dealing with persons whom you can beat down in their prices, for such persons al- ways begin with asking as much more as they mean to abate, of a customer who is in thai habit. When you have quite decided on tlit- 330 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. piece of goods you prefer, asking for a pattern of that, to see if it will wash well, is all very proper. If your dealings are confined to a few places, and to persons who know you, you can with a better grace allow them, sometimes, to wait upon you in vain ; but, when you have given strangers much trouble in showing you goods, none of which suit you, you should make a point of buying something else, before you leave the store. There are certain articles which can never come amiss to a woman, and in which there need be very little choice; such as tape, thread, pins, &c. Any little purchase, with a civil expression of regret, for the trou- ble you have given, will save all unpleasant feeling, and is the least return you can make for wasted services. If you are habitually at- tentive to the convenience of others, you will be on the alert, to prevent those who attend upon you, from opening more parcels of goods than is necessary; you will also be careful how you handle nice goods, and will not tumble them over carelessly ; you will not try on gloves without asking leave to do so, nor then, without great care not to injure those you reject. Be in the habit of calculating for yourself the amount you are to pay, instead of blindly paying whatever you are told is the sum due ; always look at the change you receive, and sat- SHOPPING 33 1 isfy yourself that it is right, before you put it into your purse. If two persons agree in their calculations, it is most likely they are correct, but, without this check, you may pay more or less than you owe ; for tenders in shops often make blunders, and a dollar given away in a mistake may deprive you of the pleasure of giving it in charity. I cannot imagine any one of a highly culti- vated mind, and full of useful occupation, with a just appreciation of the value of time, and of the true end of existence, being fond of shop- ping, as a pastime ; to such, therefore, I would say, if you would economize time and money, never go a shopping with girls of your own age ; never look round a store to see what there is to tempt you to useless expenditure ; but, when you have ascertained, at home, that you really need some articles of dress, make up your mind as to the material and the cost, and then go, either alone or with an experienced friend, to a well-known store, and make the purchase. If you afterwards see something that you like better, it will not trouble you, if you have learned not to attach much importance to the subject, and would rather wear something less becoming, than spend your time in searching all the stores for the prettiest pattern. Always remember that a store is a public place ; that you are speaking before, and often 332 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. to, strangers, and, therefore, there should be a certain degree of reserve, in all you do and say ; never carry on any conversation with your companions, on topics that have nothing to do with your shopping, and do not speak or laugh aloud ; but despatch your business in a quiet and polite manner, equally removed from haughtiness and familiarity. Sometimes, in pressing you to buy their goods, young shop- keepers will become too talkative and familiar ; silence and seriousness are the best checks to this ; and it should always be met by calm self-possession. If you have good manners, you will very rarely meet with impertinence or rudeness ; when ladies complain of being fre- quently annoyed in any such way, it is a sure sign that their own deportment is faulty. Self- possession and self-reliance are the result of a well-disciplined mind and cultivated manners ; and a person possessed of them, will always be equal to the occasion ; their looks alone are sufficient to repress insolence. If a slight im- pertinence produces a great deal of agitation and embarrassment, a temptation is felt to see how a greater liberty will be borne, and there- fore, if you cannot so far command your nerves and your feelings, as to meet such a thing in a calm and dignified manner, you had better not venture out without the protection of your mother, or some elderly friend. IN THE STREET. 333 The habit of running through the streets in childhood, and lounging through them as school-girls, laughing and talking aloud as you go, is unfavorable to good manners in after life ; but, when you become young ladies, your deportment in the street should be more guard- ed and reserved. You should converse in low tones, and never laugh audibly ; you should not stare at people, nor turn round to look after them when passed; you must leave off your juvenile tricks of eating as you walk along, going without gloves, swinging your bag, untying your bonnet, running to overtake a person, or beckoning to a friend. These things may seem very harmless in themselves, but they all serve to give an impression of character ; and, as persons, who see you only in the streets, must judge of you by what oc- curs there, it is desirable that all your actions, movements, and looks should indicate modesty and refinement. In France, where politeness is found in every class, the people do not run against each other in the streets, nor brush rudely by each other, as they sometimes do in our cities. It adds much to the pleasure of walking, to be free from such annoyance ; and this can only be brought about by the well-taught few setting a good example to the many. By having your wits about you, you can win your way through 334 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. a thronged street without touching even the extreme circumference of a balloon sleeve; and, if each one strove to avoid all contact, it would be easily accomplished. In the management of umbrellas and parasols, too, persons show their good or ill breeding. In approaching a lady, with either in her hand, you should raise yours high enough to pass by hers, without interfer- ing; and never carry it along with regard only to your own convenience, but be constantly on the alert to prevent the sharp points from touch- ing people's faces or deranging their dresses. Whenever you do incommode any one, be prompt to say, "I beg your pardon;" that is the only amends you can make, and it will instantly repair the injury and restore a kindly feeling. Some are so sorry for any little awk- wardness that has troubled others, that they are dumb for very shame ; any such propen- sity should be strenuously resisted, for stran- gers will not understand your silence, but would be propitiated at once by a civil apol- ogy- Some ladies carry their notions of female privilege so far, as to think a gentleman ought never to take the wall of them ; but it is far more rational and convenient, to have one rule about that, for both sexes. When you have the wall on your right hand, you should keep it ; when on the left, you should give it up. DRAGGLED PETTICOATS. 335 Well protected as ladies generally are by pantalettes, they do not avail themselves of them, to save their petticoats and skirts from being draggled by sweeping down every step and curbstone over which they pass. Young- ladies think that it looks ungraceful, to see a woman holding up her petticoats, but there is no momentary action of the kind, which could convey such unpleasant ideas to the mind of a beholder, as the sight of cloaks and pellises wiping up the mud of the streets and convey- ing it to the stockings beneath them. Of the few who mean to avoid this, not one in ten is successful ; because, by holding their clothes out behind, they only make a more effectual brush of them. There is a way of drawing the clothes in close to the ancles behind, which is effectual without any exposure, and is well worth a little practising to acquire it. It is well to avoid walking three or four abreast, as well as collecting in groups on a narrow sidewalk, filling up the way to the in- convenience of other passengers. If you perceive a lady to be in danger of losing some article of dress, such as a veil, or boa, collar, or handkerchief, tell her of it, with grave politeness, and she will feel obliged, whether she has the manners to tell you so or not. 336 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. If you find some lost article on the pavement, pick it up, with a view of restoring it to its owner; and lose no time in advertising it, or placing it where it will be easily claimed. Without possessing any superstitious rever- ence for a church, or for the Sabbath, every person of reflection must feel the propriety of adapting her deportment to the place and the occasion, and therefore we rarely see any great violation of decorum in places of public w^or- ship. Once in awhile the sound of merry voices and of laughter comes too near the church door, and grates upon the feelings of those whose minds are attuned to a more serious strain. Occasionally, too, a young lady may be seen busily adjusting her curls, or her ruffles, or some part of her dress, which had better be let alone, than touched so unseasonably. So much of the good to be derived from public worship depends upon the state of mind in which we enter upon the services, that the few minutes w^hich precede them ought to be better applied than in arranging your dress, or watch- ing for the entrance of your friends, or spying out new bonnets and strange faces. Those moments spent in self-recollection, in calling home your wandering thoughts, and centring them upon God, would prepare you for the de- votional exercise in which you are about to join, in appearance, if not in reality ; or for that BEHAVIOUR AT CHURCH. 337 silent prayer of the soul, which ascends alone to the Father of spirits. The reading of a hymn, or a chapter in the Bible, is sometimes a help to devotional feeling; a far better occu- pation than watching the entrance of the con- gregation. It is so desirable to maintain a devotional frame of mind through the services, that we should avoid everything which may disturb it in ourselves or others ; and, so far from whispering about irrelevant things, it is better to suffer some personal inconvenience, and to omit some little civilities, than to risk interrupting a train of pious thought. There is often an unnecessary parade about finding the hymns and passing about the books ; it is a vent for the restless activity of children ; but, where the mind is fixed on God, it is a painful jar to the feelings, and when any one appears to be absorbed in thought, it had bet- ter be omitted. If the place and the occasion fail, as they sometimes will, to call up a devotional frame of mind, we must be doubly on our guard not to let our wandering thoughts be the means of disturbing those around us. All unnecessary motions and noises should be scrupulously avoided; and, by smothering the sound of a cough in a pocket handkerchief, we may ren- der it far less annoying than it would other- wise be. cc 22 338 CONDUCT AT PUBLIC PLACES. If a strong impression has been made upon your mind, and your heart has been filled with the highest emotions of which it is capable, you will not be disposed, on quitting the church, to greet everybody you know, and enter into the commonplace chit-chat of the day ; you will rather avoid the salutations of indifferent people, and, quietly wending your way home, you will endeavour to preserve your mind in that state of solemnized feeling. The display of finery and of new clothes, which is too often made at church, is so out of place, and grates so harshly on the feel- ings of more sober-minded people, that I have heard wishes expressed that we had a fixed costume to wear to places of worship, like the Spanish ladies, w^ho always put on a black dress and veil on such occasions. If our ladies were obliged to appear at church all dressed alike, in some very plain guise, I fear their attendance on public worship would not be so frequent as it is now. Better than this, how- ever, far better, would it be, if every sober- minded Christian woman would dress, at all times, in a style suited to her character, and not let the tyranny of fashion force upon her an outward seeming, wholly at variance with the inward reality. I hope the time is not distant, when it will be considered ungenteel to be gayly dressed in walking the streets of PLAIN DRESS FOR WALKING. 339 cities, towns, and villages, when a plain bonnet that shades the face, a plain dress, and thick shoes and stockings, shall be as indispensable to the walking costume of an American lady as they are to that of most Europeans. 340 DINNER PARTIES. CHAPTER XV. Dinner Parties. A Dinner Engagement Binding. — Dress. — Entrance. — Places. — Manners at Table. — Accidents. — Eating and Conversing. — Refined Manners. — Champagne. — Finger- Glasses. — Leaving Table. — Coffee. — Departure. — Con- versation between Mr. Turner and his Daughter. — Desire for Improvement common. Having been particularly requested to write a chapter on the manners which belong to din- ner and evening parties, I will endeavour to suggest a few rules, which may be of general application ; but no precise instructions on points of etiquette can be given, as that varies in different places, and can only be learned by personal observation and inquiry. Whenever dinners are given to invited guests, civility requires, that an early answer should be returned ; for the proper wording of such answers, I must refer you to " The Youth's Letter-Writer," where full directions are given. An acceptance, in such a case, should be as binding as a promissory note ; and no slight cause should ever be allowed to prevent your fulfilling your engagement. This occasion is a very different affair from an evening party, where you would not, perhaps, be missed, if you stayed away ; only a certain number can A DINNER ENGAGEMENT BINDING. 341 be asked to a dinner, and these are carefully- selected and assorted, so as to be agreeable to each other ; and, if one or more fail at last, their places cannot be filled up, and the va- cancies at the table mar the completeness of the party, and throw a damp on the spirits of the host and hostess. A dinner engage- ment should, therefore, be regarded as partic- ularly binding, and as imposing an obligation to be strictly punctual. Want of punctuality, at a dinner party, is an affront to the whole com- pany, as well as to the gentleman and lady of the house. A ceremonious dinner requires that the com- pany should be well and handsomely dressed, though not in such gay attire, as is usually worn at a ball, or evening party. Your hair should be arranged with great neatness, and everything about you should be in perfect or- der ; for day-light reveals those little defects, which candle-light conceals. Having given proper attention to your toilet, before you leave home, think no more of it afterwards ; it is very disagreeable to see any one continually adjusting her dress ; it shows that the thoughts are upon it, whereas, the mind should be given to what is passing around you. Arrived at the place, and disrobed of your shawl or cloak, let your gloves be on, and, with erect carriage and firm step, enter the drawing- 342 DINNER PARTIES. room, either with your parents, three together, or following them alone, or on the arm of a friend or sister. Look towards the lady of the house, and walk up at once to her, not turning to the right or left, or noticing any one, till you have made your courtesy to her, and to the host. Then, you may turn off towards the young people, and take a seat among them, with that agreeable expression of ready sym- pathy on your face, which encourages conver- sation. Be quick to answer, when addressed, always looking the person in the face ; be ob- servant of all that is passing around you, and ready to be amused, with whatever presents itself. A child, a picture, an annual, a worked otto- man, a bunch of flowers, may furnish topics for conversation, till dinner is announced. When that moment comes, stand back for all the married dames to pass out before you: and, if ct gentleman, wishing to escort you, attempt to lead you out before them, draw back, and do not let him. If you are a stranger in a place, and the dinner is made for you, young as you are, the gentleman of the house "will lead you out, next to the lady of the feast, and in that case, it is proper for you to go. But, when you are visiting with your parents, your mother will receive the first honors, and you may fall back among the young people. On PLACE AT TABLE. 343 entering the dining-room, you must use your eyes, to discover which part of the table is considered the most honorable ; for, in some places, it is only that end where the lady sits, in others, both ends are equally honored, and the young folks sit in the middle ; whilst there are houses, in which the host and hostess sit in the middle on each side, and take the most honored guests next to them. Try to seat yourself among the least important portion of the company, unless desired by the gentleman or lady of the house, to take a particular seat ; in which case, you should always comply. Ob- serve next, whether a blessing is to be asked, that you may not sit down before the rest, and have to rise again. When fairly seated in the right place, spread your napkin in your lap, to protect your dress from accident; take off your gloves and put them in your lap, under the napkin. If soup is helped first, take some, whether you like it or not ; because, if you do not, you alone may be unemployed, or else the regular progress of things is disturbed, to help you to some other dish; so take the soup, and sip a few spoon- fuls, if you do no more. Where the old fashion of challenging ladies to take wine prevails, it generally begins directly after soup ; if you are asked, do not refuse, because that is a rebuff; but accept the challenge graciously, choose one 344 DINNER PARTIES of the wines named to you, and when your glass is filled, look full at the gentleman you are to drink with, then drop your eyes as you bow your head to him, and lift the glass to your lips, whether you drink a drop or not. If challenged a second time, accept, and have a drop added to your glass, and bow as before. If asked what part of anything you will have, always make a choice, whether you have a preference or not ; because it is most agree- able to the carver, to have the matter decided by you. If you sit near a dish of vegetables, or a gra- vy tureen, be on the alert, to help to its con- tents, when called upon. It must depend on the number of servants in attendance, and on the style in which the dinner is given, whether it is proper for you to pass plates, or not ; at some tables, it is a necessary attention, whilst at others, it would be a barbarous piece of offi- ciousness. If you are calm and quiet, and self possessed, you will easily see what is right, and fall into the manners of the place. If you would avoid embarrassing accidents, move very gently ; take care of your large sleeves, that they do not get into anything, or sweep off anything. If you should happen to meet with an acci- dent at table, endeavour to preserve your com- posure, and do not add to the discomfort you ACCIDENTS. 345 have created, by making an unnecessary fuss about it. The easier such things are passed over, the better. I remember hearing it told of a very accomplished gentleman, that when carving a tough goose, he had the misfortune to send it entirely out of the dish, and into the lap of the lady next to him ; on v^hich he very coolly looked her full in the face, and, with ad- mirable gravity and calmness, said, " Ma'am, I will thank you for that goose." In a case like this, a person must necessarily suffer so much, and be such an object of compassion to the company, that the kindest thing he could do, was to appear as unmoved as possible. This manner of bearing such a mortifying accident gained him more credit, than he lost by his awkward carving. Such presence of mind as this, we do not expect from very young persons ; but even they may refrain from all exclamations, when anything is spilt on their clothes; and refuse all such assistance, in wiping the place, as would derange the company, or interrupt con- versation. If you break anything belonging to the persons you visit, you should express re- gret, and blame your own awkwardness ; but even then, take care not to say too much about it. What is the loss of a tumbler, or wine- glass, compared with the discomfiture of a guest, or the interruption of conversation ! 346 DINNER PARTIES. Some persons, at a dinner, are so engrossed by the good eatables, that they care not for conversation ; others are so occupied with talk- ing, they forget to eat; the first annoys the company, the latter your hostess, so it is better to avoid both extremes. By dining on one dish, and that the plainest on the table, you will preserve your habitual temperance, and have time enough to be sociable with your neighbours. If conversation flourishes among the elders of the company, and you wish to listen to it, you may do so with propriety, provided your countenance shows that you are an attentive and pleased listener 3 but to sit silent and with forbidding looks, or a dull, tired expression, is a trespass against the so- cial feelings of all present. To yawn, or gape, is unpardonable rudeness. When you send your plate for anything, whether by the hand of a servant, or friend, take off the knife and fork, and lay them down on the cloth, supporting the ends on your bread, or else hold them in your hand, in a horizontal position. If you wish to imitate the French or English, you w^ill put every mouthful into your mouth with your fork ; but if you think, as I do, that Americans have as good a right to their own fashions as the inhabitants of any other country, you may choose the convenience of feeding yourself with your right hand, armed CHAMPAGNE. FINGER-GLASSES. 347 with a steel blade ; and provided you do it neatly, and do not put in large mouthfuls, or close your lips tight over the blade, you ought not to be considered as eating ungenteelly. When not engaged in eating, do not let your fingers find employment in playing with any of the table furniture, or in making pellets of bread. If you would be very refined, you must avoid blowing your nose at table, or touching your hair, or adjusting a comb ; those are, in some persons' eyes, great offences. I once heard a gentleman describe a young lady as having every virtue and every charm that could be desired, and then he added with a sigh, "She would be perfect w^ere it not for one thing." I eagerly asked what that was ; and he replied, "She blows her nose at dinner- time." If you are puzzled what to choose of all the variety which the second course presents, and the lady of the house invites you particularly to take of a certain dish, let that determine you. Where champagne is given between the courses, a young lady may very properly take one glass; but, when it comes round a second time, let her cover the top of the glass with her hand, as a signal to the servant that she will take no more. If little glass bowls, with water in them, called finger-glasses, are served round to each 348 DINNER PARTIES. person, at the end of the second course, it is that you may dip your fingers in and wipe them on your napkin. Observe, whether after this, the lady of the house throws her napkin on the table, or retains it, and do likewise, for the customs of houses vary. Where there is a des- sert of fresh fruits, and colored napkins or doileys are served, take care to wipe your fin- gers on them, as the juice of some fruits stains a white napkin. Be sure to get through with your dessert, and have your gloves on, all ready to move, by the time the lady of the house gives the signal, and take pains not to put yourself or your chair in the way of those who are passing down the room to the door. The time between leaving the dinner-table and being joined by the gentlemen, is generally a very easy and social one w4th the ladies ; the younger ones walk about, or run up stairs, or play with children, or have some jokes and stories in ^ corner by themselves, whilst the matrons discourse of their own affairs. If your dress wants any adjusting, this is the time to attend to it. Presently, coffee is handed round, and then the gentlemen come dropping in, the young ones first and the politicians last. This end of a dinner party is like any other small as- semblage of friends, and unless you have been svarned that you were to expect an evening CONVERSATION ON TABLE-MANNERS. 349 party added to it, the sooner you depart after taking coffee the better. A dinner, well performed by all the actors in it, is very fatiguing, and, as it generally occu- pies three hours or more, most persons are glad to go away when it is fairly done. After dinner, you are expected to take leave more generally and sociably, than after any other kind of party, except it be a small supper party. By way of showing what sort of faults in table-manners young persons are liable to commit, I will subjoin a conversation between a gentleman of the old school and his well- bred daughter, after a dinner party at their house. " Well, my dear father, I hope you enjoyed your dinner to-day, and that everything went off to your satisfaction," said Mr. Turner's eldest daughter to him. He was a widower, and this daughter had been several years at the head of his very handsome establishment. " Humph, I don't know," was his unsatisfac- tory reply. " Then I am sure something was wrong," said his good-humored daughter. — " Was the turkey cooked to your liking, and the gravy made right ? I gave very particular directions to our new cook." " O yes, that was all well enough ; the din- DD 350 DINNER PARTIES. ner was all very well cooked, and very prop- erly served." "Well, I hope I presided to your satisfac- tion; do tell me if I pained you, by anything wrong on my part." "Far from it, my dear; you presided, as you always do, in the most lady-like and agreeable manner ; if everybody had as good manners as you, there would be some satisfaction in hav- ing dinner company; bat it takes away all my pleasure to be surrounded by awkward people ; the best dish in the world would be unpalata- ble to me, if I was helped to gravy by your cousin Tom." "Indeed, Sir; how does he help to it ? I did not observe him." " Not observe him ! why I could not keep my eyes off of him, and had it been at your end of the table, it could not have escaped me. He took hold of the gravy-ladle the wrong way, and so clumsily, that you would have supposed he never used one before; then he helped the gravy without stirring it up, or putting the ladle to the bottom of the tureen; so the first persons helped would have all the thin and the next all the thick part of the gravy. To some he gave half a ladle-full, to others two full ladles, and all without any regard to the quan- tity of meat on the plate. You smile, as if this were a very small aifair, and ought not to CONVERSATION ON TABLE-MANNERS. 351 trouble me so much. It is a trifle, compared with the more serious business of life, but still, even these trifles mark a defect of character. A well-regulated mind prompts to correctness even in trifles ; if gravy is to be helped to ten persons, a man of common sense, and accustom- ed to aim at doing everything in the best man- ner, would give thought enough to what he was about, to do it well. He would take hold of the ladle in the most convenient manner, he would gently stir up the gravy till it was of like consistency throughout, and then appor- tion it properly to the meat on each plate. Af- ter thinking about it once, he would do it properly all the rest of his life, without think- ing at all about it ; it would become an in- stinct; and that is the difference between well- educated, well-trained young people, and such as dined with us to-day." " My dear father, do you not call the gentle- men, who dined with us to-day, well-educated men!" " yes, well-educated, as far as school- learning goes, but I mean that sort of training, in childhood and youth, which includes good manners. I believe the times are altered since I was a boy ; then, parents took as much pains to teach their sons and daughters to behave well at table, as to make them cut a good figure at a school examination. For my part. 352 DINNER PARTIES. if I had sons, I would rather have them con- duct themselves properly at meals, and perform well those ever-recurring duties, than have them win prizes for being the best Latin scholars in their school. But there is no reason why they should not do both. Because some of the eti- quette and formality of the old school has been abolished, parents seem to think there is noth- ing to be taught of table-manners. I do not believe any of our guests to-day were ever taught, when boys, how to help a person to a potato, much less to carve meat or poultry; now, when I was young, we were taught some- thing at every meal that we took alone with our parents, and I early made a point of teaching you table-manners." " I know it, and I am obliged to you for teaching me how to carve, but I always sup- posed that helping to potatoes came of itself." " Then why did it not come to that smart young lawyer, who sat by the potatoes to-day. You must have seen how awkwardly he kept digging away at one particular potato, on one side the dish, regardless of pushing two or three over the other side, on the cloth, when, by only turning the spoon, and taking the po- tato he wished for on the other side, he could have got at it at once. It put me in such a fidget, I could not eat my dinner for watching him, every time he helped anybody, and it re- CONVERSATION ON TABLE MANNERS. 353 quired all my politeness to refrain from giving him a lesson at the moment." " I remember, now, that I did see him push some of the potatoes out of the dish; but I looked another way, directly, for fear of em- barrassing him." " That was very kind of you, my dear ; it was more than the man deserved, who could be so clumsy, and when you turned your head the other way, did you not see Mr. N doing something almost as awkward ? He was help- ing his neighbour to wine, and filling the glass till it was a bumper, that could scarcely be car- ried to the mouth without spilling; — whoever saw a lady's glass filled more than half full or two-thirds at most, when asked to drink wine with a gentleman at dinner ! Then, instead of taking off the drop from the decanter, by touch- ing it to the edge of the wine-glass, allowing it to trickle down the neck, and wet the hand of the next person who touches it. Oh, how that annoys me ! and, of all the people who dine with me, there are but two or three who avoid it." " Few people, my dear father, have had any opportunity of instruction on these points, and those who have not are entitled to indulgence. Mr. N 's parents were not in a situation of life to teach their son such niceties. His talents and industry have made him what he is, and he has so much real merit that I hope you DD* 23 364 DINNER PARTIES. will forgive his being that one drop out of the way." " Why, to be sure, he has great merit, and, as you say, he could not have had any training when young. I observed he helped to the squash well, as a man of sense ought to do; and if he would only use his reason once, in helping wine, he would find out how it should be done, and so make up for the want of early instruction in such matters. I always mean to make allowance for such as could not have had proper training in childhood and youth, but I often see such do much better than the chil- dren of affluent parents, who ought to know what is proper. The man who makes himself is generally observant, and desirous of catch- ing the manners of the persons he wishes to associate with; and any man, who thinks upon these matters of table comfort, will soon find out the best way of doing everything. Where- as those who have always been used to silver forks and cut glass, have no fear of doing wrong; they suppose, like you, that helping potatoes must come of itself, and so they never think anything about it, and do it awkwardly all their lives. There is that whole family of Bentons, who have been brought up in the midst of luxury and indulgence ; I dread to see any of them enter my house, they are so awkward and unmannerly." CONVERSATION ON TABLE-MANNERS. 355 " Oh, my dear father, how can you say so ! Why Julia is thought a most graceful and ele- gant girl, Harriet is very refined, and James dances better than any of my acquaintance, and is very polite to the ladies, and always attentive to everybody. "Yes, I have seen his attentions; he never hands anybody a chair, that he does not knock the legs of it against every piece of furniture near him. He rubs by the centre-table, carry- ing the cloth with him, and endangering every- thing upon it. He never dined here, without spilling wine, or salt, or gravy. If, instead of taking so many dancing lessons, he had learn- ed how to behave in other matters, he would be vastly more agreeable. His father never does these awkward things, and how he can let his son grow up, without drilling him into something like good manners, I do not know." "James is so high-spirited, he would not like to be drilled in these matters." "He should have been taught them long ago, before his spirit rose to such a height; but, if I had any right to interfere, I would venture to displease him, rather than let him continue so disagreeable. If you young ladies would take up the matter, and let the beaux know, that to be agreeable in your eyes, they must be dex- terous in their movements, and well behaved 356 DINNER PARTIES. in trifles, it would soon reform the society we live in." " Well, father, to have done with James now, what can you object to in his sisters ? " " I object to Julia's way of cutting her food and putting it in her mouth, and to Harriet's treatment of it, when there." " Upon my word, Sir, you are a nice observ- er. I never saw anything amiss in either ; but do explain yourself." " Julia's way of sitting at the table is awk- ward; she is too far off, and often a little side- ways. Then she accepts everything that is offered her, and leaves the greater part of it untouched." " That she does to be genteel, I suppose." " Well, she is greatly mistaken, if she thinks that a proof of gentility. Then she eats with an affected nonchalance, and cuts such awk- ward three-cornered mouthfuls, putting in three or four pieces of meat, one after another, without any bread or vegetable, that it quite disgusts me. And she leaves such an untidy plate, I cannot bear to see it; and she lets her knife and fork fall, as it were, out of her hand, just where they may, so that it is ten chances to one, but they fall off the plate, when the man takes it away. I once saw a greasy knife fall, in that way, on her silk dress, and I could CONVERSATION ON TABLE-MANNERS. 357 not be sorry, her awkwardness so well deserv- ed it." " I believe Julia does affect a carelessness about such trifles, which she thinks genteel, and I never heard it found fault with before." " But you, my dear child, know that what is affected can never be truly genteel. Real gen- tility, requires that everything should be well done ; and so habitually well done, as to re- quire no effort. Good manners are not merely conventional rules. There are many points of good-breeding, which do not change with time or place ; but are founded on reason and sound sense, and are, therefore, worthy of serious con- sideration. Instead of thinking it genteel to eat carelessly, Julia should know, that it is the mark of a true lady, to do that, as well as everything else, as well as possible ; and, by always eating and helping others in the best manner, to be as little occupied by it, as by her slovenly way of doing either." " Well, Harriet is much more precise than Julia ; I hope you like her better." " She is more expert in all her manipula- tions ; but she puts me in constant fear for her digestion. She does not seem to know the use of those pretty teeth of hers. She seems to think they were only made to look well in a smile But then she might know, that her 358 DINNER PARTIES. jaw teeth were given her to chew her food with. I wonder she has such good health." " 0, you allude to her not chewing her food. I know that she does think that very refined and pretty. I have heard her speak with great disgust of some of her acquaintance, jfor chewing their food so much. She says her dinner has often been spoiled, by sitting opposite to a great chewer, and seeing the contents of the mouth displayed in the pro- cess of eating and talking." " That is very odious, to be sure. But a person may,, by putting in proper-sized mouth- fuls, and chewing with their lips shut, masti- cate their food thoroughly, without any such display ; and every one should early learn to empty their mouths of food before they speak, even to reply to a question. You may remem- ber the story of the epicure, who found such serious fault with a table companion, for asking him a question when eating turtle soup, and so obliging him to swallow untasted a morsel of green fat. Gourmand, as he was, he had the manners to swallow before he spake, and that is more than some of our guests do, who have no such savoury bit on the palate." " Well, my dear father, suppose you give lectures on good manners, and so correct some of these faults in the rising generation; if other people are as much annoyed by them as CONVERSATION ON TABLE-MANNERS. 359 you are, they would be thankful to send their children to hear you." " I am too old to do anything but scold at them, in ray easy chair, and try my good daughter's patience, by finding fault with all her young acquaintance." " Dear Sir, what you say is so just and true, that I often regret, that others besides me are not benefited by your strictures. Most young people desire to have good manners, but do not know in what they consist ; now, if they could hear you point out the faults that were committed here to-day, they would never fall into them again; and if you would agree to lecture to them from your easy chair, just as you have talked to me to-day, only without using names, I would engage to assemble an audience in this room, that should listen eager- ly to all you have to say, and be for ever obliged to you." " nonsense, nonsense, child, don't laugh at your old father. I never desire any auditor for my fault-finding but my indulgent daugh- ter ; so now give me my leg-rest, and let me have a nap." Such lectures as those desired by Miss Tur- ner, would certainly be very useful, and I have no doubt they would be very popular too ; for there is a strong desire for improvement, in young people of both sexes ; and, in a fluctuat- 360 DINNER PARTIES. ing society like ours, where the sudden acqui- sition of wealth brings families into new posi- tions, and surrounds them with new associates ; where talents and education carry people into the most refined circles, without any previous training in manners, it is very necessary to have some means of finding out what belongs to polished life. ENTERING A ROOM. 361 CHAPTER XVI. Evening Parties. Entering a Room. — Self-possession. — Means of Enjoyment. — Popularity. — Matrons. — Simplicity. — Dress. — Late Hours. — Politeness in a Crowd. — Supper. — Engrossing Beaux. — Departure. The days of minuets, and courtesies, and handing of ladies by the tips of their fingers, are gone ! and with them is gone much graceful carriage, and many distinguishing traits of a high-bred lady are lost. When a lady was handed into a room, at arm's length, she had an opportunity of making a graceful courtesy, and the gentleman, a low bow; but when her arm is tucked under that of the gentleman, a little bob of the head and neck is all that each can accomplish, and therefore entering a large assembly has ceased to be a matter of any con- sequence. There are, to be sure, different de- grees of awkwardness in this simple act of being led in, and saluting the lady of the house ; but the most graceful person has no opportunity of doing herself justice. As much bending of the knees and body, as is compati- ble with your position, should be attempted ; but a very retreating courtesy, on the lady's part, with a forward bending of the gentle- EE 362 EVENING PARTIES. man's body, in a bow, has a very bad eliect ; they appear to be pulling two ways at once Having made your obeisance as well as you can, be careful not to step back upon those who are coming after you, but make way for them, by turning off on one side. Some girls have a trick of jiggling their bodies, (I am obliged to coin a word in order to describe it) ; they shake all over, as if they were hung on spiral wires, like the geese in a Dutch toy^ than which, nothing can be more ungraceful, or unmeaning. It robs a lady of all dignity, and makes her appear trifling and insignificant. Some do it only on entering a room, others do it every time they are intro- duced to anybody, and whenever they begin to talk to any one. It must have originated in embarrassment, and a desire to do something, without exactly knowing what ; and being adopted by some popular belle, it became, at one time, a fashion in New^ York, and spread thence to other cities. All unmeaning and unnecessary movements are contrary to the rules of grace and good- breeding. When not intentionally in motion, your body and limbs should be in perfect rest. Addison says, that " the use of dancing lessons is to teach a lady how to sit still gracefully." Your whole deportment should give the idea that your person, your voice, and your mind SELF-POSSESSION. 363 are entirely under your own control. Self- possession is the first requisite to good man- ners, and where it is wanting, there is gener- ally a reason for it in some wTong feeling or false appreciation of things. Vanity, a love of display, an overweening desire to be admired are great obstacles to self-possession; where- as, a well disciplined and well balanced char- acter will generally lead to composure and self-command. In a very elegant assemblage in a large drawing-room in a southern city, I saw a young lady walk quietly and easily across the apartment, to speak to a friend ; who said to her, "I wanted very much to get to you, but I had not the courage to cross the room ; how could you do it, all alone, too, and w^ith so many persons looking at you !" " I did not think of anybody's looking at me," was the reply ; and in that, lay the secret of her self-possession. Very modest people believe themselves to be of too little conse- quence to be observed ; but conceited ones think everybody must be looking at them. In- experienced girls, who are not wanting in mod- esty, are apt to dread going into a crowded room, from an idea that every eye will be turn- ed upon them; but after a while, they find that nobody cares to look at them, and that the greater the crowd, the less they are observed. 364 EVENING PARTIES. Your enjoyment of a party depends far less on what you find there, than on what you carry with you. The vain, the ambitious, the design- ing will be full of anxiety when they go, and of disappointment when they return. A short triumph will be followed by a deep mortifica- tion, and the selfishness of their aims defeats itself. If you go to see, and to hear, and to make the best of whatever occurs, with a dis- position to admire all that is beautiful, and to sympathize in the pleasures of others, you can hardly fail to spend the time pleasantly. The less you think of yourself and your claims to attention, the better. If you are much attend- ed to, receive it modestly, and consider it as a happy accident; if you are little noticed, use your leisure in observing others. A woman of sound sense will neither be elated by atten- tion, nor depressed by the want of it ; and if not invited to join in the dance which would so well suit her buoyant spirits, she will indemni- fy herself by entering into conversation with some agreeable person near her, or by studying some bust or picture, or specimen of art, which the place affords. There is much pleasure to be taken in at the eyes, by a person who un- derstands the art of seeing. The popular belle, who is the envy of her own sex and the admiration of the other, has her secret griefs and trials, and thinks that she POPULARITY. 365 pays very dearly for her popularity ; whilst the girl, who is least attended to in crowded assemblies, is apt to think hers the only hard lot, and that there is unmixed happiness in be- ing a reigning belle. She, alone, whose steady aim is to grow better and wiser every day of her life, can look with equal eye on both ex- tremes. If your views are elevated, and your feelings are ennobled and purified by commun- ion with gifted spirits, and with the Father of spirits, you will look calmly on the gayest scenes of life, you will attach very little impor- tance to the transient popularity of a ball- room ; your endeavour will be to bring home from every visit some new idea, some valuable piece of information, or some useful experi- ence of life. Next to great beauty, good manners are the chief attraction in a party ; these, combined with good sense and cultivation of mind, gen- erally procure a young lady as much attention as is good for her, as much as she ought to expect. In the present state of society, these large evening parties are considered as a necessary evil; and, until some better way of associating is devised, the most reasonable people feel obliged, occasionally, to attend them ; but it is a great waste of time to go often, and very young ladies would do well to avoid the • ■-■ 366 EVENING PARTIES. long as they can, and, when obliged to begin, to partake very sparingly of a gratification that is so empty and transient, and one that is so often purchased at the expense of health. Very young ladies should always be accom- panied, on these occasions, by a mother or some matron, on whose aid and guidance they can rely; and, when not necessarily separated, they should keep near their chaperone. There may be occasions, when girls, over twenty, may go into general society without this protection ; but, for girls in their teens, it is very undesirable ; there are a thousand little contingencies, wherein the experience of an older person is needed, and a look from the lady who matronizes them, may save them from something they would be sorry for. The great temptation of this sort of society, is, to do or say something which is not true to yourself, and therefore you should be as much on your guard, to speak the exact truth in a party, as if you were on oath in a court of justice. The desire of pleasing, the wish to appear that which they know another ad- mires, too often makes girls affected, and in- duces them to express sentiments they do not really feel. If you are conscientious, and call yourself to a strict account for all you say and do, you will suffer so much from any such want of truth, as to be saved from the degra- DRESS. 367 dation which invariably follows its habitual in- dulgence ; but, if you are careless of yourself, and think more of the effect you have produced on others, than of the good or evil you have done to your own soul, you may be led away by your desire of attracting attention, till you become false to yourself and to others, and your whole character will be corrupted by this early perversion. It is a mistaken policy, too ; because there is a greater charm in truth and simplicity, than in any particular sentiments that can be feigned. All the most delightful heroines in Miss Edgeworth's tales, are distin- guished for their perfect sincerity, their noble candor. How much we love Lady Geraldine, Belinda, and Grace Nugent, for their honesty of character, for the truth of all their words. There is a charm in mere youth, w^hich is set off to the best advantage by a simple style of dress. Young girls lose a great deal, if they sacrifice their peculiar privileges for the sake of ornament and an elaborate toilet, which would better become them at a later period. The simplest muslin, frock, if well made, and accompanied by well-dressed hair, neat gloves and shoes, will become a girl in her teens far better than the richest satins and laces. If you have any doubt as to the size and nature of the party you are going to attend, it is 368 EVENING PARTIES. better to be on the safe side, and err by being too littk rather than too much dressed. Whatever the fashions may be, never be in- duced by them to violate the strictest modesty. No woman can strip her arms to her shoulders and show her back and bosom without injuring her mind and losing some of her refinement ; if such would consult their brothers, they would tell them how men regard it. Do not stake your gentility on going late to parties ; but show your love of reasonable hours, by going as early as it will do to go. Late hours are the bane of some of the old countries of Europe ; let us beware how we aid in introducing them here. It seems to me that all w^ise and good people should do their ut- most to prevent their countrymen from run- ning into the folly of turning night into day, by midnight revels and morning sleep. There is a great difference in the manner of moving about in a crowed ; some push rudely through, regardless of the finery they are dis- turbing ; they tread upon the feet of others, or press unshrinkingly against their elders ; whilst a true gentlewoman wins her graceful way without harm or offence to any, but conciliating every one she approaches ; she never retreats without looking to see if she incommodes any person behind her; she never pushes forward SUFFER. 369 without taking every pains to avoid coming in contact with the dresses around her. At the supper-table, too, great difference of character is seen. Where things are so man- aged as to give the elderly and married people the precedence they ought to have, there will sometimes be a want of proper courtesy in the eagerness shown by the young people to reach the scene of action. The pushing and crowd- ing is sometimes more like that of a street mob, or the mixed company on board a Hudson steam-boat, than what befits a private house, and an occasion where all will be equally well served without it. Gentlemen often feel their pride engaged in doing their utmost to provide well for the ladies on their arms, and so press on too violently ; it is, therefore, incumbent upon a lady to repress the earnestness of her cavalier, to say she is in no haste, she will go presently, when there is more room. A slight movement back from the crowd will often affect all around you, and induce others to wait as you do ; thus a party is formed who eat their supper half an hour later, and all are bet- ter accommodated. In the matter of eating the good things provided, the characters of in- dividuals are shown, and very greedy propen- sities will occasionally appear, under very fair forms. It is best to make up your mind be- forehand as to what refreshments agree with 24 370 EVENING PARTIES. you, and what do not, and then partake of them accordingly. Both health and delicacy are best consulted by avoiding mixtures ; to eat freely of one thing is better than to eat of a variety of things, and to eat slowly is not only better for your stomach, but for your reputa- tion, too ; for what is more disagreeable than to see a person devouring rich things as though they were famished, or never before had tasted anything so good. However agreeable a beau may be, he should not be allowed to engross a lady for any con- siderable time. Some gentlemen make a prac- tice of selecting a young lady whom they like, and keeping her to themselves for the great- er part of an evening, unless the lady take measures to prevent it. If she appear pleased with the tete-a-tete, other gentlemen will avoid interrupting it ; and thus a foundation is laid for one of those idle reports, which every one should take pains to avoid. In such a case, you need not hesitate to break off the conver- sation, and to change your position so as to ensconce yourself among ladies, and get rid of such marked attentions. No man of delicacy w^ould choose so to exhibit a real preference of the heart; this sort of monopoly is one of the amusements of the selfish, and if you suffer it, they will think you highly honored by their notice. CONDUCT ON GOING AWAY. 371 There is a predicament, the opposite of this, which inexperienced young girls some- times fall into ; it is that of keeping a gentle- man talking to them longer than he wishes, because they do not give him a chance to break off. They are, perhaps, standing apart from the rest of the company, and he cannot leave her without her remaining quite alone. If you sus- pect that a gentlemen has said his say, and wishes to be off, make it easy for him to go, by changing your position, or speaking to another person; taking care not to do it so pointedly, that he shall be obliged to go, if he do not wish it. If you have a quick eye and observe the expression of faces, you will be able to regulate your words and actions so as to be true to yourself, without hurting the feelings of any. The less you think of yourself and the more you consider others, the more agreeable you will be. If, on going away from a party, a gentleman begs leave to hand you to your carriage, or to walk home w^ith you, and you are obliged to leave him in the entry, whilst you go in search of your shawl, look out for him again wdien you are equipped ; and do not let another intercept him, if you can avoid it wdthout making a fuss. If another arm is offered, you can hesitate, and say, "Mr. such-an-onc was going with me;" then, if he is at hand, he will appear, and if not, 372 EVENING PARTIES. you can proceed with the substitute. This is the rule of politeness, where there is no special reason for refusing a gentleman's attentions. Learn to put on your things very expedi- tiously, if you would not exhaust the patience of all concerned. A gentleman is so easily equipped, that he often has to wait, and cannot but wonder at the time ladies consume ; to lengthen his penance, by dawdling or stopping to talk, is not fair, and shows a want of proper consideration for others THE UNRULY MEMBER. 373 CHAPTER XVII. Conversation. The Unruly Member. — Two Besetting Sins. — Ridicule. — Exaggeration. — Misuse of Words. — Example from Mrs. Barbauld. — Favorite Words Misapplied. — Trifles Magni- fied. — Irony. — Little Games and Riddles. — Advantages of Hearing Good Conversation. — Conversation made an Art. — Fluency without Method. — Example. — Listening Well. Many of the hints which would otherwise be arranged under this head, have already- been given, in connexion with other subjects ; but much remains to be said ; and, were I to go fully into the duties that belong to the gov- ernment of the tongue, I should fill a volume, instead of a chapter. But this little work, as already premised, is addressed to those who have been morally and religiously brought up; and, therefore, I must trust to their being aware of the evils and dangers which belong to that unruly member, as they are powerfully described by the Apostle James, and other writers of the Old and New Testaments ; and, since the proper government of the tongue is the result of thorough Christian discipline, I might as well hope to change the nature of water, flowing from a bitter fountain, by throw- ing sugar into the streams that branch off from it, as to give rules that will render conversa- FF 374 CONVERSATION. tion sinless, whilst the heart remains unregen- erate, and the character is formed on worldly principles. Young people are generally so ardent and so incautious, that whatever is in their thoughts and feelings w^ill find vent in their conversa- tion; the vain, the proud, the envious, the sus- picious, will each exhibit in it her prevailing fault, and nothing but that diligent " keeping of the heart," recommended in the sacred vol- ume, can correct the evil. Those who have felt the blessed influences of religion, and are endeavouring to regulate their thoughts and words by the Christian standard, will often have occasion to lament the errors they commit in conversation ; to correct these is the business of a life, for the Apostle says truly, " If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect man." To give a few hints to such as are striving after this per- fection, and to show how conversation may be made not only an innocent recreation, but the means of intellectual growth, is the object of this chapter. Supposing my young friends then, to be on their guard against the graver errors of the tongue, such as direct falsehood, misrepresen- tation, calumny, insinuation, violations of confi- dence, and the like, I would warn them against a few of the lesser sins of young people, which, RIDICULE. 375 from their very commonness, might escape their notice in the earlier stages of self-discipline ; such as the love of ridicule, the spirit of exag- geration, &c., which are so apt to pervade the conversation of inexperienced girls, and are often indulged in by them, without a suspicion of their real nature and tendency. The practice of turning into ridicule what- ever does not please her in the appearance or conduct of others, too often gains a young lady the reputation of being a very agreeable companion, and her lively sallies are mistaken for wit ; whereas, there is no faculty of the mind, that can be cultivated at a less expense of wit and wisdom, than that of ridicule, and none that finds more ready auditors ; for the silliest can join in the laugh which it raises, and the wisest can hardly resist its infection. A sense of the ridiculous, is an original fac- ulty of the human mind ; it is much keener in some individuals than in others, and, under proper management, it might possibly find its place in a Christian character; but it is like some plants, which, though wholesome in them- selves, are never admitted into our gardens, because they spread too rapidly, and root out what is far more valuable. The love of ridi- cule grows by indulgence, till it destroys the power of discrimination, lessens the sensibility to others' pain, disturbs the balance of justice, 376 CONVERSATION. blunts all noble and generous feelings, and gives a general taint of coarseness, to the whole character. There is nothing too inno- cent or unobtrusive to be food for this morbid love of fun ; nothing too valuable or too beau- tiful, to be viewed in this false light ; nothing too high, and nothing too low, to minister to this diseased appetite ; and the pain which it often inflicts upon those who are its innocent objects, is a small evil, compared with the im- mense injury it does to the mind that enter- tains it. Besides the evils already enumerat- ed, the love of ridicule indisposes the mind to find pleasure in admiring, which is robbing it of one of its noblest attributes ; one stamped with the approbation of God, by being made the source of pure and exquisite enjoyment. If you would taste the full happiness of admir- ing all that is good, and true, and beautiful, in the beings who surround you, avoid the prac- tice of ridiculing them, for these cannot exist together. Equally common with the love of ridicule, is the spirit of exaggeration. How many per- sons, who would be shocked at the idea of tell- ing a deliberate falsehood, yet daily violate truth, by exaggerated statements and extrav- agant expressions. This fault often shows itself in childhood, and has its origin in the activity of the imagination, joined to an im- EXAGGERATION. 377 perfect knowledge of language; where it is not early corrected, it grows with the growth and strengthens with the strength, and becomes one of the most incurable maladies of the mind. By some, it is suddenly assumed, as a means of making themselves agreeable to their com- panions, or by way of equalling them in their style of conversation. Now I would earnestly beg those who are voluntarily adopting this habit of speech, as they would learn an accom- plishment, to avoid it whilst it is yet in their power, and to regard it in its true light, as a sin against God, against their fellow-beings, and against their own natures. It is a sin against God, inasmuch as it vio- lates his holy laws, which require perfect truth of speech. It is a sin against our fellows-crea- tures, because it lessens the confidence neces- sary to social intercourse, and because it leads to misrepresentation and injustice. It is a sin against our own natures, because it deadens the conscience, lessens the reverence for truth, blunts that nice perception by which we were intended to see things as they really are, and accustoms the mind to entertain distorted and inflated visions of its own creating. Besides all this moral evil attendant on a habit of exaggeration, it is a great mistake to suppose that it makes a person more agreeable, 01* that it adds to the importance of her state- 378 CONVERSATION. ments. The value of a person's words is de- termined by her habitual use of them "I like it much," " It is well done," will mean as much in some mouths, as " I am infinitely de- lighted with it," " 'T is the most exquisite thing you ever saw," will in others. Such large abatements are necessarily made for the state- ments of these romancers, that they really gain nothing in the end, but find it diflicult some- times to obtain credence for so much as is really true ; whereas a person who is habitually sober and discriminating in his use of lan- guage, will not only inspire confidence, but be able to produce a great effect by the occasional use of a superlative. Fidelity and exactness, are indispensable in a narrative, and the habit of exaggerating de- stroys the power of accurate observation and recollection, which would render the story truly interesting. If, instead of trying to embellish her account with the fruits of her imagination, a young lady possessed the power of seizing upon the points best worth describing, and could give an exact account of them, she would be far more entertaining than any exaggeration could make her ; for there is no romance like that of real life ; and no imaginings of an inex- perienced girl can equal in piquancy the scenes and characters iLat are every day presented to TAKING FOR GRANTED. 379 our view. Extravagant expressions are some- times resorted to, in order to atone for defi- ciences of memory and observation ; but they will never hide such defects ; and, an habitual use of them lowers the tone of the mind, and leads to other deviations from the simplicit} of truth and nature. Another way of falsifying a narrative, is by taking for granted what you do not know, and speaking of it as if you did. This jumping at conclusions is a fruitful source of false reports, and does great mischief in the world. Let no one imagine that she is walking conscien- tiously, who is not in the habit of discriminat- ing nicely between what she knows to be fact, and what she only supposes to be such. Some girls, without any wish to exaggerate, contract a habit of using certain forcible ex- pressions on all occasions, great and small, and consequently make some very absurd speeches. A young lady, for example, told me she was " passionately fond of embroidery." She had used the word, in the sense of very, till she had lost all perception of its true meaning. Mrs. Barbauld gives an excellent example of this misuse of words, in a conversation be- tween a mother and daughter, to be found in the last volume of her works, as reprinted in this country. 380 CONVERSATION. The frequent use of some favorite word or phrase, is a common defect in conversation, and can only be guarded against by asking your friends to point it out to you, whenever they observe such a habit; for your own ear, having become accustomed to it, may not de- tect it. Some persons apply the epithet glo- rious, or splendid, to all sorts of objects indis- criminately from a gorgeous sunset to a good dinner. A young lady once tried to describe a pic- nic party to me, in the following terms. " There w^ere ten of us, four on horseback, and the rest in carriages ; we set off at a glorious rate, and had a splendid time in getting there ; I rode the most elegant, perfect creature you ever saw, and capered along gloriously. When w^e got there, we all walked about in the w^oods, and gathered the most splendid flowers, and dined under the shade of a glorious old elm tree. We had our cold provisions spread out on the grass and everything was elegant. We had glorious appetites, too, and the ham and ale were splendid, and put us all in fine spirits. Some of the gentlemen sang funny songs, but one sang such a dreadfully sentimental one, and to such a horrid, doleful tune, it made us all miserable. So, then, we broke up, and had a splendid time packing away the things. Such fun ! I almost killed myself with laughing, and we broke half MAGNIFYING TRIFLES. 381 the things. But the ride home was the most splendid of all; we arrived at the top of the hill, just in time to see the most glorious sun- set I ever beheld." In this short account, the word " glorious " is used five times, and, in all but the last, it is grossly misapplied ; the same is the case with the term" splendid," except that it is not once used properly. " Elegant," too, is equally in- applicable to horses and cold provisions. Yet this style of conversing is so common, that it hardly arrests the attention of many who, nev- ertheless, would condemn it at once, if they thought at all about it. There is great danger of the young and ardent doing injustice to their companions, by magnifying trifles, drawing large conclusions from small premises, and judging from a par- tial knowledge of facts. How often have I seen a young girl, all eagerness to tell some extraor- dinary thing about a companion, and represent- ing some trifling occurrence as the most atro- cious ill conduct ; when the very next hour, perhaps, has brought to light some circum- stance that changes entirely the whole aspect of the case, and shows that all her excitement was wasted on a mistake. It is a good rule never to believe anything on mere report, that is inconsistent with what you already know of a person. Consider how much more probable 382 CONVERSATION. it is, that there is some error in the statement, than that a trust-worthy man or woman should do something entirely out of character. When some false rumor about yourself or family reaches your ear, instead of being provoked by it, lay it up as a lesson against believing what you hear reported of others. Talking ironically is sometimes indulged in to such an excess as to become very tiresome to the hearers. A little dash of irony enlivens conversation, and when well and sparingly in- troduced, it is pleasant enough; but some girls have such a habit of it, that on all occasions, to persons of all ages, all degrees of intimacy and acquaintance, on all subjects, whether grave or gay, they will answer you in that strain. All reverence for age and superior wisdom, and all sense of propriety are sacri- ficed to the indulgence of this propensity, whilst they are unconscious of its being in ex- cess. To make the whole strain of conver- sation ironical, is like serving up a dinner, composed wholly of gravies, sauces, and con- diments without one substantial dish. In like manner all jesting, bantering, and quizzing should be very sparingly indulged in, and with constant reference to the feelings of others, or you may inflict a wound before you are aware of it. GAMES AND RIDDLES. 383 There is, in some persons, a diseased sensi- tiveness which it is impossible to guard against ; for they consider every remark made in con- versation, as a covert attack on them, and im- mediately begin a personal justification, whilst the unfortunate offender sits by, amazed at the construction put upon her words, and too much disconcerted to disclaim it When, in company with your young friends, the conversation flags, or becomes too trifling, or joking is carried too far, it is in the power of some leading spirit to give a new impulse to the party, by proposing to play some of those games, which exercise the mind in a use- ful and innocent manner, and are, at the same time, very amusing ; such as, " Twenty Ques- tions," " Dumb Crambo," " How do jou like it," " What are my thoughts like," " Capping Ver- ses," "Drawing Questions and Words," and many more of the same kind. Charades, too, and riddles, and all such puzzles, may occa- sionally prove an agreeable resource ; and it is well to have a selection of the best in your memory, ready to be produced in a fitting moment. If any of my readers feel disposed to treat such amusements with contempt, I w^ould beg them to read Mrs. Barbauld's paper on Riddles, as the high authorities she quotes in their favor, may reconcile them to this sort of play of the mind. In order to enjoy this 384 CONVERSATION. sport, a few rules of politeness should be at- tended to, like the following. Be as willing to puzzle over a riddle, as to give one out. If you are previously acquainted with the solution of a riddle, do not tell it ; but let the person who gave it out have that privilege. If you do not know it, and do not like to puzzle over it, do not insist on being told what it is, before the rest of the company. If you have no readi- ness in guessing charades, &c., you can amuse yourself with their ingenuity, when they are explained, and not feel mortified at your ill success, and then try to hide it, by speaking contemptuously of the pastime. Those who have not learned to think, and have no facility in methodizing and arranging the materials which accumulate in their memo- ries, will find themselves much assisted in the task, by talking over with a friend, what they have lately acquired. If that friend be wiser than they are, so much the better; but if not, something will be gained, by the effort to ex- press their ideas to another. Great are the advantages to be reaped from listening attentively to the conversation of in- telligent and cultivated people, and you should be earnest to improve every such opportunity. When a sensible discussion of a new book, or interesting topic of any sort, is going on in your presence, you may be justified in breaking CONVERSATION CULTIVATED AS AN ART. 385 off a trifling conversation with one of your own age, and in putting aside any common avoca- tion, in order to give your undivided atten- tion to it. Good conversation is one of the highest at- tainments of civilized society. It is the readi- est way in which gifted minds exert their in- fluence, and as such, is worthy of all consid- eration and cultivation. I remember hearing an English traveller say, many years ago, on being asked how the conversational powers of the Americans compared with those of the English, " Your fluency rather exceeds that of the old world, but conversation here is not cultivated as an art." The idea of its being so considered anywhere, was new to the com- pany ; and much discussion followed the de- parture of the stranger, as to the desirableness of making conversation an art. Some thought the more natural and spontaneous it was, the better ; some confounded art with artifice, and hoped their countrymen would never leave their own plain honest way of talking, to be- come adepts in hypocrisy and affectation. At last one, a little wiser than the rest, explained the difference between art and artifice, asked the cavillers, if they had never heard of the art of thinking, or the art of writing ; and said, he presumed the art of conversing was of the same nature. A.nd so it is. By this art per- GG 25 386 • CONVERSATION. sons are taught to arrange their ideas method- ically, and to express them with clearness and force ; thus saving much precious time, and avoiding those tedious narrations, which inter- est no one but the speaker. It enforces the necessity of observing the effect of what is said, and leads a talker to stop, when she finds that she has ceased to fix the attention of her audience. The art of conversing would enable a com- pany, when a good topic was once started, to keep it up, till it had elicited the powers of the best speakers, and it w^ould prevent its being cut short in the midst, by the introduction of something entirely foreign to it. Fluency of speech seems to me a natural gift, varying much in different individuals, and capable of being rendered either a delightful accomplishment, or a most wearisome trait of character, according as it is combined with a well or ill disciplined mind. If, as a nation we are fluent, it is especially incumbent upon us to be correct and methodical thinkers, or we shall only weary those who are so, by our care- less and thoughtless volubility. Some persons seem to forget that mere talk- ing is not conversing ; that it requires two to make a conversation, and that each must be, in turn, a listener ; but no one can be an agree- CONVERSATION CULTIVATED AS AN ART. 387 able companion, who is not as willing to listen as to talk. Selfishness shows itself in this, as in a thou- sand other ways ; one who is always full of herself, and who thinks nothing so important as what she thinks, and says, and does, will be apt to engross more than her share of the talk, even when in the company of those whom she loves. There are situations, however, wherein it is a kindness to be the chief talker, as when a young lady is the eldest of the party, and has seen something, or been in some place, the de- scription of which is desired by all around her. If your mind is alive to the wishes and claims of others, you will easily perceive when it is a virtue to talk, and when to be silent. It is undue preoccupation with self that blinds peo- ple, and prevents their seeing what the occa- sion requires. Sometimes the most kind and sympathizing- person will not do justice to her nature, but will appear to be cold and inattentive, because she does not know that it is necessary to give some sign, that she is attending to what is ad- dressed to her. She averts her eye from the speaker, and listens in such profound silence, and with a countenance so immovable, that no one could suppose her to be at all interest- ed by what she is hearing. This is very dis- 388 CONVERSATION. couraging to the speaker, and very impolite. Good manners require that you should look at the person who speaks to you, and that you should put in a word, or a look, from time to time, that will indicate your interest in the narrative. A few interjections, happily thrown in by the hearer, are a great comfort and stim- ulus to the speaker ; and one who has always been accustomed to this evidence of sympathy, or comprehension in their friends, feels, when listened to without it, as if she were talking to a dead wall. USES OF CEREMONY. 389 CHAPTER XVIII. Visits. Uses of Ceremony. — Morning Calls. — Friendly Visits. — Conformity to Family Rules. — A Snare to be avoided. — Receiving and Returning Calls. — Trouble of Domestics. — Neatness in your Chamber. — Care of Furniture. — Change of Circumstances by Marriage. — Mistakes of the Rich. — Usefulness of Young Girls. — A Caution. — Confidence be- tween Host and Guest. Visits may be either ceremonious or friendly, and, in populous places, the one are as necessa- ry as the other. Some persons have a great dread of ceremony, as if it implied a sacri- fice of sincerity and simplicity; but the thing- meant by it in this country is merely an estab- lished rule, for regulating little particulars of conduct, in which all are desirous of doing what is expected of them, but v»'ould not know what that was, unless there was such a guide. These usages vary in different places, but it is easy to ascertain what they are, and then, by conforming to them, you are sure to do the right thing. However laughable it may appear to some persons, to see bits of pasteboard with names on them, left at the doors of houses, it is a most convenient custom, and the only way of being sure that your call will be known to youi' fi-iend, 390 VISITS. for no domestic can be expected to remember a number of strange names, given her verbally in one morning. All such usages have a meaning and a use, and grow out of the necessities of populous places. Etiquette is intended to save us from some of the inconveniences attendant on a large acquaintance; and, by settling certain points, it enables us to keep up a ceremonious acquaintance with a circle too large for friend- ly visiting, as that consumes far more time than could be given to the number of persons whom you must be acquainted with, if you live in a city. All innocent customs should be wel- comed, which prevent the waste of time, and allow a person to choose the best way of em- ploying it. When the dinner hour is near the middle of the day, receiving visits before din- ner is a sad interruption of the precious morn- ing hours ; and a custom of refusing them by directing the domestic to say, that the ladies are engaged, is a very good one, and becoming more and more common in our large cities, where the forenoon is the only quiet time you can command. Different customs are required for those who live in the country ; they should always re- ceive guests that have ridden several miles to see them; and they may very well give up the morning hours, because their evenings are generally uninterrupted. MORNING CALLS. 391 As a general rule, it is safe and proper to conform to the customs of the place you live in. All calls should be returned, and the more promptly this is done, the more civil you will be considered. Where it is the fashion to call at a house after having been invited to a party there, make it a rule to do so. The reason should be a very cogent one, that induces you to neglect any of these established forms of civility; at the same time you should receive the omissions of others with complacency. Be strict with yourself, and indulgent to oth- ers. To be tenacious on points of etiquette, is a sign of a little mind ; the most noble na- tures are the most placable, and if any one would act up to her Christian profession, in small matters as well as in great, she must overlook omissions, pay visits she does not owe, invite the negligent, and never listen to the suggestions of pride, suspicion, or jealousy, in regulating her intercourse with the world. Many persons consider a morning call, made upon a mere acquaintance, as an utter waste of time. To those who feel so about it, it proba- bly is just such a vain thing. But a truly be- nevolent mind, and one richly stored and well balanced, even in a short morning visit to a person almost a stranger, will find some topic of general interest, on which to speak, and will 392 VISITS. say something worth remembering, or call forth something from others that is interesting and edifying. A book, a picture, a flower, a child may furnish an occasion for thought and feel- ing, which, properly expressed, stamps a value on the call. Its duration should depend in part on the turn which conversation takes, if that is prosperous, it may exceed the quarter of an hour usually allotted to a morning visit, if not, let that suffice. Nothing but a quick perception of the feel- ings of others, and a ready sympathy with them, can regulate the thousand little proprie- ties that belong to visits of condolence and congratulation. There is one hint, however, as regards the former, which may perhaps be useful, and that is, not to touch upon the cause of affliction, unless the mourner leads the way to it ; and if a painful effort is made to appear cheerful, and to keep aloof from the subject, it is best to make the call a very short one. Friendly visits, not being subject to the rales of etiquette, are regulated by the character of the individual, and are therefore more fruitful in mistakes. The most common errors are a want of due consideration for the time and en- gagements of others, and a want of candor in letting a friend know that her visit is inoppor- tune. If your intimates are not to be told at CONFURMrJ'Y TO FAMILY RULES. 393 the door, that you are engaged, but enter your apartments at all times, they should learn from yourself, that there are days when you are too busy to see any one. Young ladies staying at the houses of friends much older than themselves, are in danger of doing many things which will annoy their host and hostess ; however amiable their charac- ters, and agreeable their manners, there will be little points on which they never thought, and cannot therefore be expected to do exactly right. If it be your first visit from home, you can- not be aware of the difference there is in the customs of different families, and cannot there- fore be too watchful to find them out, nor too careful to conform to them. If your habits at home are those of order, neatness, and punctu- ality, you will not disturb the lady of the house by any very careless tricks ; but if such are not your habits, you can scarcely make your- self so agreeable, as to atone for the numerous vexations you will cause her. An inexperien- ced girl, however well trained at home, will make mistakes enough on first leaving it, to need all the indulgence of her elders, and therefore a few hints upon this subject may be acceptable. When there are young people in the house about the same age as the visitor, it is easier 394 VISITS. for her to find occupation and amusement, in- dependent of the heads of the family, than where there are none ; but in that case, care should be taken to find out whether the plans they lay, and the pleasures they propose, are agreeable to the parents, before the guest surrenders herself to their guidance. Some daughters take advantage of having a young friend staying with them, to transgress some of the family rules, and, by leading her to do the same, make it appear to be wholly her fault. This applies particularly to late hours at night and to want of punctuality at breakfast, and family worship. When visiting, therefore, it is best always to ascertain from the lady of the house, what are the usual hours of rising, retiring, taking meals, &c., and then conform scrupulously to them, whether the younger members of the household do so, or not. Be careful to interfere as little as possible with the regular avocations of the family ; and, by having your work or book always at hand, make it easy to them to leave you alone when- ever it best suits their convenience to do so. When you can aid in the performance of any of their daily duties, you will show your readi- ness to do so ; but be sure not to urge your offers of assistance where it is not wanted. Make a point of being ready to receive those calls which are made on you, and of re- CONSIDERATION OF nOMESTlCS. 395 membering and returning every one in due season. To ensure this, where the society is large, it is necessary to begin at once and keep a list of all your visitors, or you may omit some one, which is a great breach of polite- ness, and involves your friends in the blame; though you ought never to throw on them the burden of remembering what calls you have had. Your time should be so far at the dis- posal of those you are staying with, as to keep you from making any engagements without consulting them ; and great care should be taken not to involve them in an intimacy or acquaintance that does not suit them. No one can stay in another person's house without adding something to the work of it, and constant consideration of others is neces- sary to prevent that something from becoming burdensome, either to the friends themselves, or to the domestics. Where guests can well afford to pay for their washing, they should always have it done out of their friend's house, and not suffer their clothes to be added to the family wash. If they cannot do this, it be- hoves them to assist in ironing their own things, and in doing up their ow^n muslins. If you find that your hostess has no objection to your entering her kitchen, you can save the domestics many steps, by going there to ask for what you want, and by waiting upon your- 396 VISITS self. If you are in the habit of making your own bed at home, you may very well do it when staying at a friend's house ; and this trouble saved to the chamber-maid, will make her think less of other services, that she must render you. Do not imagine that because you are not at home, you are not responsible for the neatness of the chamber you occupy ; whether your accommodations are large or small, your things should be put away as snugly as possi- ble, and if you have no drawers or closets, keep as many of your clothes in your trunk as you can; and what must be about, pile up neatly, and cover them with a handkerchief or towel. If the house of your friend is furnished in a style superior to your own, take especial care not to misuse her things, and mistrust your own knowledge of what will injure them. For instance, a person always accustomed to sofas made with hair-cloth, will not be aware, how easily one covered with silk damask will be injured, by lounging upon it with leather shoes on, or by suffering the head to come in contact with the silk, or by dropping crumbs of rich cake upon it. A person accustomed to com- mon mahogany tables, will set a wet cup or tumbler down on a white marble one, entirely unconscious of the stain it will leave. The richer the furniture, the more care it requires CARE OF FURNITURE. 397 to keep it in good order ; and this is one of the many penalties, which the rich pay for their luxuries. Still worse mistakes are sometimes commit- ted by those who find the furniture of their hostess less costly than what they have been accustomed to, and are, therefore, careless of their manner of treating it. To spill ink or oil on the well-scoured boards of a nice white floor, is worse than to do it on a carpet. To step on the seat of a rush-bottom chair, does far more harm, than to stand on a cane-bottom, or hair-cloth one ; and where the means of your friend are small, every mar on her furni- ture is either attended with some expense for repairs, or lessens the good looks of the ar- ticle. The marriages of school-mates and intimate friends often leads to a great ditference in their style of living; and as the intercourse, founded on affection, should never be influ- enced by the circumstance of having a few more or a few less dollars, or by the nature of the husband's calling, it is well to know how we ought to conduct ourselves towards those who are wanting, as well as towards those who abound, in the riches of this world. There is often more satisfaction to be found in visiting a friend, who has made what the world calls a poor match, than in following a rich bride to HH 398 VISITS. her sumptuous halls ; in sharing " humble toils and destiny obscure," than in joining with the giddy throng, that flock around the favorite of fortune ; and if you have the command of money, there cannot be a more agreeable way of disposing of a portion of it, than by supply- ing some of the deficiencies in your friend's establishment, after finding out what would be most acceptable to her. The rich are often less generous than they might be, because their habits prevent their comprehending the situation of those who are less affluent, and yet live comfortably. A per- son of great wealth, writing, on new-year's day, to a friend who is in narrow circum- stances, will express her regret, that she has nothing pretty enough to send her ; now such an one ought to know that an useful present, if not very pretty, would be acceptable; and if the season of the year suggested the idea of presents, she should have made a point of being provided with something both useful and pretty, to send her friend. It is in the power of young girls, to make themselves very dear and very useful to their married friends, and to render them such ser- vices as are beyond all price. In times of sick- ness and of sorrow, the sympathy and presence of a beloved female friend, are among the best of Heaven's gifts ; whilst she w^ho ministers to A CAUTION. 399 the afflicted, is as much blessed as blessing. Let no young person stay away from a friend who is sick, or in affliction, from the fear that her inexperience will render her company un- desirable ; all who have strong affections, and a ready power of sympathy, can make them- selves acceptable, and, in endeavouring to do so, will increase their own happiness. Never let mere convenience induce you to stay at the houses of persons whom you cannot esteem; by so doing, you bring on yourself an irksome obligation; you take on yourself the duties of a friend, without having the senti- ments that would make their discharge easy. There is a tacit confidence reposed in all guests, and the greatest delicacy is required, in order to keep it inviolate. Whatever you may have remarked to the disadvantage of your friends, whilst sharing their hospitality, should never transpire through your means. Speak only of what redounds to their praise, or of circumstances which cannot affect them unpleasantly. Better omit relating the most entertaining event of your visit, than give cir- culation to anything, that will violate the pri- vacy of your friend's family. In like manner, a guest should be protected from the gossip of the world, by the friends she visits ; and those foibles which are only found out by the inti- macy of daily communion, should never be ex- 400 VISITS. posed to indifferent persons. Whatever good is there discovered, may be commented upon ; but let silence cover whatever is amiss. The attentions which young ladies receive as the guests of those who are older, may al- ways be so graciously accepted and acknowl- edged, as to show that the guest fully appre- ciates the hospitality ; and, as a proof that it is held in remembrance, some little offering of gratitude should be made after the visit. No matter how well supplied your friends may be with the comforts and luxuries of life, nor how small your means are, you can always think of something which you can present and they accept, and though it be only a pincushion or a guard chain, of your own making, it will have a certain value as the expression of the grati- tude which it becomes you to feel. RIGHTS OF FELLOW-PASSENGERS. 401 CHAPTER XIX. Travelling. Rights of Fellow-passengers. — Courtesy to Women. — Anec- dote. — Appurtenances of a Lady. — Dress. — Steam-boats. Hotels. — Chamber-maids. — A good Traveller. — Punctu- ality. — Packing.-— Self-possession. — Anecdote. — Another. — Avoid a Rush. — Anecdote of a Father and Daughter. In no country in the world is the proportion of travellers to the population so great as in ours ; and therefore it is peculiarly incumbent upon us to understand the morals of travelling, that we should have clear ideas of the rights of those, whose interests are most likely to clash with ours, such as inn-keepers, stage- coach proprietors, drivers, waiters, chamber- maids, and fellow-passengers. If you have just notions of your relation to all these persons, you will never exclaim at the ninth passenger in a stage-coach, as if he had no right to be there ; you will feel, that, although his room would be preferable to his company, his right is as good as yours, and it is unkind to say or look anything that will make him feel like an intruder ; you will never express atiy regret, nor even look displeased, when a child is handed into a public coach. The mother and her babe have as good a right HH* 26 402 TRAVELLING. there as you ; and her task of carrying, and tending, and amusing her child among stran- gers, is wearisome enough, without the added pain of feeling that its presence is considered a nuisance. We should be glad to lighten her toil by a smile and a kind word, or by giving the child something new to play with ; and when the poor little creature cries, let the mother's disinterested tenderness as she ex- claims " bless his little heart I " teach us to think less of our own annoyance than of the babe's discomfort. Though public conveyances are used by per- sons of every description and condition, it very rarely happens that anything unpleasant occurs, whilst the spirit of mutual accommo- dation, that is generally observed, is admira- ble. The courtesy shown to women too, is highly creditable to the Americans ; it is some- thing far better than the treacherous spirit of modern gallantry which prevails in the old world ; the former partakes more of the char- acter of a father's or a brother's protecting care ; whereas the latter has more of the lover in it ; and is far less safe, and less to be relied upon. Our countrymen extend their courte- sies to women of all conditions, whether rich or poor, old or young, ugly or pretty ; if a woman presents herself, she is to be taken care of and attended to ; whereas an English- COURTESY TO WOMEN. 403 man, in a public conveyance, is apt to have neither eyes nor ears for any woman beneath him in rank, unless she happens to be pretty, and then his attentions are of a doubtful char- acter. It is hardly possible for the protection and the services, needed by the weaker sex, to be given on a better footing than they are in this country ; and it is highly important that they should be properly received and justly appre- ciated. I have sometimes felt great anxiety for the future fate of woman, when I have seen the patience of men tried by petty exactions, and the privileges, derived from their gen- erosity, claimed as rights. Foreigners, travelling among us, are struck by the coldness, almost sullenness, with which women receive the attentions of strangers. This should not be. Every little service, ren- dered by a travelling companion, should be either civilly declined, or courteously accepted, and care should be taken not to let the lords of the creation do too much for us ; not to trespass upon their generosity, and not to tax their patience too far. Nothing is more cred- itable to our countrymen, than the readiness with which they give up their places, in a full coach, whenever a female traveller appears ; but women should never claim this accommo- dation as a ri2;ht. 404 TRAVELLING. Whoever can ride with their backs to the horses, without being incommoded by it, should offer to do so, and be ready to change with any pale sufferer on a front seat. If, moreover, you take cold easily, you ought to take that seat, in order that other people may have the windows open without your being endangered, as that is the most sheltered situation. Great care should be taken that the little appurtenances of women do not incommode others. Those who travel for pleasure should not carry baskets, larger than they can con- veniently hold in their own hands, or the bur- den of them will fall on every gentleman who waits upon them to or from a coach or steam- boat. Band-boxes should be banished from every traveller's baggage ; it is better to take a second trunk, than to plague everybody with the care of so frail a thing as a paper box. Some ladies have tin boxes instead of paper, which is an improvement ; but it is better still, to travel without carrying any bonnet but the one you wear, or any finery, but wdiat you can put in the tray of your portmanteau. Some fathers make it a condition with their daugh- ters, that they should have no baggage but a moderate-sized portmanteau and a carpet bag; and these are sufficient for any reasonable woman on a summer excursion ; if you are going to a place to spend some months, a APPURTENANCES OF A LADY. 405 greater wardrobe may be necessary ; but even then, you may, by contrivance, avoid having many trunks and boxes. Everybody should have some distinguishing mark upon each piece of their baggage, besides a full direction, by which the trunk and bag may be properly forwarded, if accidentally left behind. Large initials, painted in white, on each end of a trunk, are very useful ; ordin- arily, a piece of red or w^hite tape, tied to each handle, will enable you easily to identify your trunk. When escorted by any one besides your own family, you should look after your own baggage. The plainer your dress is for travelling, the longer it will look nice. All ornaments, and all embroidery besides that of small collars, are out of place on a journey. Neat gloves and shoes and a clean bonnet-cap will give you a more genteel appearance than all the chains and earrings, ruffles and capes, you can put on. A neat plain cap, that will look de- cent when your bonnet is off, is indispensable on a long journey, as it will save you from the fatigue of wearing a bonnet constantly, and spare you the trouble of adjusting your hair frequently. The ladies' cabin in a steam-boat is a complete vardty fair. In the midst of the finest scenery, some girls will leave the deck to spend their time in combing and arranging 406 TRAVELLING. their hair in a crowded cabin, and the looking- glasses, numerous as they are, are seldom out of use. Nowhere is politeness more needed than in a crowded steam-boat, and nowhere is it more apt to be laid aside. The more numerous and more mixed the company is, the more need there is of politeness as a common bond. It is the duty of every real lady to set the best examples in manners and conduct to the crowd around her, never pushing her way rudely among them, never seizing on a chair that another wishes for ; never standing in the way ; never staring at what is going on near her ; never, in short, forgetting the conven- ience of others, but always calling forth their best feelings by treating them generously and courteously. One of the worst features in steam-boat travelling, is the struggle for the best places at meals, and the rude elbowing and pushing of those who call themselves ladies. I have been among the first dozen that entered the dining-room from the ladies' cabin, and yet have been unable to get a seat, until I was pushed down to the other extremity of the table, because I could not bring myself to con- tend for a place, or scramble for a seat, as all around me were doing ; and who would not rather lose a dinner, than their self-respect 1 STEAM-BOATS. 407 Where two dinners are provided, it is much better to wait for the second one ; I have, by doing this, had as good a dinner without any rush or scramble. Where ladies spend a night on board a steam-boat, the cabin affords a fine display of character and breeding. A true lady can be known at once, and the woman who attends upon the passengers quickly discriminates be- tween the real and the simulated, though her situation is one so full of trial to her patience that her manners are seldom very complaisant to any. No one in the habit of thinking much of the comfort of others, would give this weary chamber-maid an unnecessary step, or add to her vexations by needless exactions and fault- finding. A person of refinement can ill brook the exposure of making her toilet in a crowd of strangers ; and therefore she will only throw off her upper garments, and loosen the rest, before she lies down for the night. It is bet- ter, on many accounts, not to undress entirely; in case of accidents, a woman's helplessness is much increased by being in her night dress. Whatever you take off should be disposed of with a view to knowing exactly where to lay your hand upon it in any case of emergency; and broaches, rings, watches should never be laid on the bed, or put in out-of-the-way places, 408 TRAVELLING. but kept in sight and pinned to some article of clothing that you must put on. If you would not be a nuisance to all the pas- sengers, do not sit up in the cabin and talk after the ladies have retired for the night ; however wakeful you may feel, you have no right to disturb the repose of the sleepy. When the crying of a child breaks the slumbers of the company, it is complained of as a great incon- venience, yet that is an accident which cannot be helped ; whereas talking can be avoided. If you would escape the panic arising from the danger- of being left behind, or carried whither you do not mean to go, or hurried on shore half dressed, be sure to get up the mo- ment the chamber-maid calls you; use all dili- gence in your preparations ; put up all your things as they are to go on shore, before you leave the cabin; keeping in your own hand your basket, shawl, and parasol. Attention to these things makes much of the difference between an agreeable and a disa- greeable fellow-traveller ; and joined to a habit of punctuality, can hardly fail to render you a desirable companion, and may be the means of procuring you many an invitation which would otherwise be withheld. On arriving at a hotel, one of the gentlemen of your company goes to the bar, puts down his name, and specifies the number of rooms HOTELS. 409 and beds that his party require, and then the ladies should hold themselves in readiness to go up stairs, to choose and appropriate the chambers. Here is another display of selfish- ness or generosity, as the case may be. The younger members of a party should consider the least commodious apartments as their proper allotment, and by readily making the best of everything, keep in good humor. As soon as your chamber is assigned you, observe the number, so as to give proper directions to chamber-m^ids and others as occasion may re- quire. Then see whether the sheets &c. are clean, and what is the state of your washing apparatus ; and when you can speak with the chamber-maid, do it in a pleasant way, and however ill arranged your room may be, speak as if all that was wrong, was so from mistake, or accidental omission, and needed only to be named to be rectified. This way of treating the matter will often procure you all you wish when a fault-finding tone of voice would put the girl who waits upon you out of humor, and make it very difficult for you to get anything you most needed. Take pains to tell her, at once, all you want, in order to save her unne- cessary steps ; and let her see that you wish to give her as little trouble as possible. Kind- ness and consideration, on your part, will gen- erally increase her willingness to serve you 5 II 410 TRAVELLING. and if it does not, it will satisfy your own con- science, and enable you to bear her omissions patiently. It will help you to do this, if you picture to yourself the slavish life she leads, and all the unreasonable people she has to deal with, and if you contrast her situation, toiling late and early, to wait upon hundreds of per- sons who care nothing for her, and whom she never expects to see a second time, with your own more favored lot, travelling for your pleas- ure, and perpetually ministered to by others Whenever you are obliged to give extra trou- ble, you should reward it by a small fee, from your own purse, taking care, however, that your liberality does not induce the chamber- maid to devote herself to you, to the disadvan- tage of the rest of the party. Whoever travels with a number of friends or relations, should feel bound, in love and in honor, to consult the good of the whole, and should scorn any sel- fish indulgence obtained at the expense, or to the exclusion of the rest. A good traveller will shut her eyes as much as possible to the dirt and bad management of a poor inn ; she will avoid looking behind the scenes, and carefully abstain from mentioning to her companions any discovery, of an un- pleasant nature, which she may have made, especially in regard to food, as a dish eaten in ignorance, may relish well, whilst a word from IMPORTANCE OF PUNCTUALITY. 411 the more initiated, might turn the whole party against it. Important as punctuality is to the fulfilment of all our social duties, and the improvement of our time, it is especially necessary to the comfort of a party when travelling. The greatest inconvenience to a whole party is sometimes occasioned, by the want of punc- tuality in a single member of it. Every one, therefore, who sets out on a journey with a party of friends, should feel that they enter into a covenant to sacrifice their own conven- ience and pleasure, whenever it would interfere with their punctuality; and no lovely prospect, no desired purchase, no wish to see sights, should prevent your return from a walk at the hour appointed for departure. The necessi- ty of punctuality at meals, and at the fixed hours, agreed on by all, should be so promi- nent an idea, that the pen should be thrown down, though only a line be wanting to com- plete the day's journal, the arrangements of dress should be calculated to a nicety, and any readjustment postponed, that would inter- fere with being ready at the time prescribed. Young ladies who are not punctual, think it a sufficient excuse, to say they could not be ready sooner, because they had to mend a glove, or put on new strings to a cap, or to get something out of their trunk after they had 412 TRAVELLING. fastened it down ; but all such excuses are wholly inadmissible. Our determination to be true to our engagement, should be so absolute, as to make us provide against all such contin- gencies, by beginning our operations so early as to leave us time for accidents, or time to spare. The unpunctual never allow themselves time enough, and the only way to cure them- selves of this fault in judgment, is, to begin by allowing themselves double the portion they think they shall need ; and if, when entirely ready, they have any time left, to use it in the best way they can. Nothing wears more on the spirits of those who are the heads of the party, than want of punctuality in the younger mem- bers of it ; I have known the whole pleasure of a day marred, in this way, by the fault of one. The art of packing a trunk well, is very necessary to the comfort of travelling. It en- ables a person to carry many more things in a given space, than can be done without it ; it prevents your clothes being injured or tumbled, and helps you to find what you want, without deranging the whole contents of your trunk. It is too practical an affair to be taught by written rules ; but if you can only be impress- ed with the desirableness of understanding it, you can learn it from some experienced friend. Those persons acquire it most readily, who SELF-POSSESSION. 413 have a correct eye for form and space, and therefore, one who knows how to draw, will learn to pack, more easily than one who never measured distances by her eye. It is a good rule in travelling, never to un- pack your trunk unnecessarily; but to keep those things on the top that you will need first, and when you are to set off early in the morn- ing, to pack your trunk the night before, and leave out only such things as can be put in your carpet bag. It is best not to put your watch under your pillow at night, unless you are always in the habit of doing so, and can depend on yourself for not forgetting it in the morning. Self-possession in time of difficulty, is an im- portant quality of the mind, and can be very successfully cultivated. I have known very timid children to become, by proper self-disci- pline, calm and courageous in danger, and to acquire by degrees, that presence of mind, which has often been the means of preserving life. No one is fit to travel, who has not ac- quired enough of it, to refrain from screaming when alarmed. Whatever the feelings may be, there should be sufficient self-command to keep silence ; for in many situations the danger is greatly increased by the shrieks of women ; as in the case of runaway horses, or of horses tak- ing fright in \ ferry-boat. I recollect an in- 414 TRAVELLING. stance of a coachman's life being sacrificed, in consequence of a lady's screams. A mother and daughter returning home from a morning ride in their own carriage, were alarmed by perceiving that the horses were unruly, and immediately the young lady began to scream ; this frightened the horses and ren- dered them entirely unmanageable ; the coach- man was thrown from his seat, and so severely injured, that he died in a few days. The ladies were not hurt, but they had the pain of hearing the dying man say, that he should have commanded the horses, " if Miss Lucinda had not screamed so." What a sad recollec- tion to carry through life ! The reverse of this was the experience of another lady of my acquaintance. She was going through the streets of a large city in her own carriage, and stopped at the entrance of an alley down which she sent her coachman on an errand, without taking the reins into her hand, as every person so situated ought to do ; before the man returned, the horses trotted slowly off. The lady had sufficient presence of mind, to make no outcry, but simply beckoned to the people on the side-walks to come to her aid ; for some time no one noticed her, and her horses, having taken the direction of home, be- gan to quicken their pace ; the danger increas- ed every moment, still they were not alarmed SELF-POSSESSION. 415 by any noise within the carriage, and at last some one observed there was no coachman on the box and stopped them before any accident occurred. A lady addicted to screaming would probably have been seriously injured, if not killed by the horses running away at full speed, and dashing the carriage against something in their way. It is for the most part safer to remain in a carriage, when the horses run away with it, than to attempt to get out, whilst it is in motion ; and better not to put the head or arms out of the windows, but sit quietly within, with your arms close to your body, and all your muscles relaxed ; and then, if the carriage is overturn- ed, you will run less risk of breaking your limbs, than you would, if you were braced and holding on with all your might. I have been overturned so often, that I know exactly how to fall ; and when I feel the carriage tipping over, I draw myself all up together and make myself as much like a bag of wool as possible. The various kinds of danger, to which one is subject, in steam-boat accidents, makes it diffi- cult to say beforehand what course is best; but there is one general rule which may be given, and that is, never to join in a rush to any one part of the boat. By keeping aloof and retain- ing your self-possession, you will be ready to take advantage of whatever may occur ; where- 416 TRAVELLING. as, by following the crowd, you are liable to be infected by their panic and to be hurried into some imprudent step. I am acquainted with a young lady who es- caped much suffering by adhering to this rule. She and her father were on board a steam- boat, in the Mississippi, when it ran against another vessel, and was so much injured as to sink rapidly. There was a general rush of all the passengers to the bows of the boat ; she alone remained at the stern with her father ; both were perfectly calm, and provided them- selves with buoyant articles to assist them in floating, when it should become necessary to commit themselves to the water. Whilst thus aloof from the crowd, a little boat approached ; the father hailed it, and in a few moments, he and his daughter were safely placed in it, and rowed towards the shore. No lives were even- tually lost ; but other persons suffered much more before they were taken off, than this young lady, who never lost her presence of mind, but acted from the first according to to fixed principles inculcated by her father. CONVERSATION ON USEFULNESS. 417 CHAPTER XX. Mental Culture. A Conversation on Usefulness. — Display. — Reading without Thinking. — Applications for Aid. — Periodical Literature unfit for the Young. — Reading with an Object desirable. — Study of History. — Exercises in Composition. — A Course of Reading on History. — Biography. — British Poets. — Travels. — Grammar and Rhetoric. — Sentiment and Mo- rality. So much time is ordinarily wasted in the life of a young lady, that few are aware how much might be accomplished by a scrupulous economy of minutes and a methodical appropri- ation of hours. But, believing as I do, that there is time enough for the performance of every domestic duty, and for the cultivation of the mind also, I would warn my young friends against sacrificing one to the other. Some persons make an arbitrary division of things into useful and ornamental, and class mental culture under the latter head. This mis- take was so well combated by a friend of mine, aged twenty, in conversation with a girl of eighteen, that I will relate what passed. Sa- rah, the elder one, had been talking to Anna about reading and studying, when the latter said with a sigh, " Well I cannot expect to be like you ; Nature meant me to be only useful." 27 418 MENTAL CULTURE. Sarah. "I should be very sorry, if I thought she had not made me for the same purpose." Anna. " O, you are above being useful. You were meant to be ornamental ; everybody is willing you should be so ; few can be like you, for few can make such attainments, and those who can are not expected to be useful." Sarah. " What do you mean by being use- ful?" Anna. " 0, you know, fulfilling one's duty in the common relations of life." Sarah. " Do I neglect that ? " Anna. " No, I would not say that, but you do not put your whole mind into it." Sarah. " Why should I, if I have mind enough for that and other things too ? " Anna. " Well, you are more ornamental than useful at any rate." Sarah. "It seems to me that you strangely limit the term useful. I suppose you mean that we are useful, only when we are making rai- ment for the body, or setting the house in order, or tending the sick." Anna. " 0, and visiting the poor, and keep- ing Sunday school." Sarah. " Well, do you propose doing this last without cultivation ? Shall the blind lead the blind 1 " Anna. " That requires no knowledge beyond Christian morality." CONVERSATION ON USEFULNESS. 419 Sarah. " The highest knowledge of all, and to which all other attainments are subsidiary ! " »^nna, " Well, but granting that, of what other use, Sarah, are all your accomplishments ? They make you very independent, I know, and much admired by certain persons ; but then they render insipid other society, in which they are not appreciated, and from which you can gain nothing ; and what good do they do any- body but yourself?" Sarah. " I think they do some good, when they make my father and brothers like to be at home and talk with me. You have often com- plained, that you could not make home attrac- tive to your father and brothers, and lamented the ennui of the one, and the idle amusements of the other. As to its making the sort of society, of which you speak, insipid to me, I know that although you spend so much time in it, it is as disagreeable to you, as it is wearisome to me. You are always bringing me stories of the calumnies which are afloat about you and your friends. Now I say, that much of this wicked gossiping arises from idleness, and that if these people's minds were better furnished, their tongues would be less venomous." Anna. " But if we can do nothing for this society, ought we to withdraw ourselves wholly from it ? " 420 . MENTAL CULTURE. Sarah. " If we cannot raise its tone, I think it may be of some use to bear a quiet testi- mony, that we can find some better way of passing our time, than in tasteless, childish amusements, the monotony of which is only relieved by the most malicious backbiting." Anna. " I wish I could think as you do, but I have always been afraid, that if I were very cultivated, I should not be so useful." Sarah. " If you enlarge your views of utility, you will perhaps see that we promote it no less by ministering to the spiritual than the temporal wants of others. I cannot consider the person who gives me a beautiful thought, enriches me with a valuable truth, or leads me to take more liberal views of the capacity of the soul or the value of time, is less useful to me than that other kind of beings who make jellies for me and watch with me in illness, or take me to ride, and entertain me with their best cheer, when I am well. Let none of us neglect the common duties of our spheres ; but if any hours be left, can we devote them better than to acquiring a knowledge of the laws of God's world, or the minds and history of his creatures 1 Are we not thus fitting ourselves to perform the highest kind of duty towards each other ? And I do believe, that if we judi- ciously manage our time on earth, short though it be, there will be sufficient to enable us to READING WITHOUT THINKING. 421 be useful in the highest sense of that term, as well as in the sense in which you use it." A great many very good people limit the sense of the word useful, as Anna did ; but as well might we query what the use is to the body of each portion of food it receives, as to doubt that knowledge, properly taken into the mind, conduces to its strength and enlargement. There is another class, who value intellectual attainments very highly, but not on the true ground ; not because they increase our useful- ness and happiness ; not because we have im- mortal souls, that crave knowledge as the body does food ; but merely as the means of succeed- ing in society, for the poor purpose of display ; and the leading thought of such girls is, "What shall I do with this that I am learning ? " She w^ho reads merely for the sake of talking aboL a book, with which others are acquainted, or that she may embellish her conversation with quotations, or because it is expected that she should know certain facts and names in his- tory, will miss the true end of all study, and wall be unable effectually to reproduce any of the ideas so taken in. " The knowledge which is gained by read- ing, is of little worth, when the mind is unpre- pared to receive and assimilate it. If w^e pas- sively adopt the opinions w^e meet with in books, or remember the facts they relate with- .ij 422" MENTAL CULTURE out any endeavour to reflect upon them, or to judge of their relation to other facts, we might almost as well not read at all. We may gain knowledge, such as it is ; but, at the same time, that knowledge will impede instead of strengthening the operations of our intellects, and the load of facts will lie like a heavy w^eight, under which the motions of the reason- ing power will become more and more feeble, till at length they stop. If, on the contrary, we meditate, compare, choose, and reject, where opinions are in question ; arrange and apply, where facts are the subject of inquiry, we can- not read too much for our intellectual improve- ment. The mind will hold all the knowledge that can ever be put into it, if it be well chosen and properly introduced." Let those who are seriously desirous of im- proving their minds, read first such books as will throw light upon the proper treatment of them. Read the letters of Mrs. Barbauld, on "Female Studies," and on "The Uses of His- tory"; also, "Philosophical Essays on the Art of Thinking," by a distinguished English lady; these will show you what is the necessary pre- paration of the mind for deriving improvement from reading, and give you clear ideas of the true uses of knowledge. READING WITH AN OBJECT. 423 Very young ladies should not aim at being acquainted with the periodical literature of the day, nor with the various new books which they hear their elder friends conversing about. Their leisure should be chiefly given to stand- ard works in their own language, or the study of classic authors in foreign tongues. Life is too short, and time too precious, and books too numerous, to allow of your reading a work in order to ascertain whether it be worth the pe- rusal. It is wise to profit by the experience of others in this respect, and to read only such books as are well recommended. A course of reading, undertaken for the pur- pose of ascertaining some particular points in history, or by way of testing some theory in morals, or for any specific object, w^ill fructify the mind more than years of aimless reading. If you consult the works alluded to by the authors you are studying, and acquire all the collateral information which belongs to any subject that engages your attention, you will find your interest to increase as you trace the connexion, and that ideas, thus followed out, become a part of your own mind, and suggest new thoughts and feelings. It should be a rule with you never to pass over a word you do not know, or a thing you do not understand, without either looking for its explanation in dictionaries, encyclopaedias, 424 MENTAL CULTURE. &c., or making a note of it in a little book, kept for the purpose, that you may inquire its meaning of the first person you meet with, who is competent to give it. Many persons take a dislike to history, from having studied it only in the abridgments used in schools ; whereas the voluminous accounts given of the same events, and w^hich are shun- ned as a heavy task, would prove far more entertaining. The more you read about some things, the more interested you become, and this is the case with history. When you are familiar with certain scenes and characters, you will wish to know additional particulars concerning them. When you have read Gold- smith's and Littleton's accounts of the parent country, you will like to know how Hume de- scribes the same events ; and having read what two Protestants and one infidel say of them, it will be doubly interesting to know what Lin- gard, the Roman Catholic, will write on the same subject ; and after all these, the sketch given by a philosopher, such as the late Sir James Mackintosh was, will impart a new in- terest to England's story. There are so many entertaining biographies and memoirs which may be read in connexion with English history, that it must prove a high treat, an intellectual feast, to any mind prepar- ed to enjoy it. After reading two or three EXERCISES IN COMPOSITION. 425 short histories, so as to have a general idea of the progress of events, it is well to take a full account, like Hume's, and read the biographies of great characters, in connexion with the times in which they flourished. The various memoirs, too, should be read in the same way. The history should be considered as a skeleton, which is to be filled out by all the collateral in- formation you can procure. Shakspeare's his- torical plays, and Scott's historical novels, may be read to great advantage in connexion with the history of the period to which they belong. Written abstracts of what you read will not only assist your memory in recollecting dates and facts, but will aid you in arranging, com- paring, and reflecting upon what you have ac- quired. They should be frequently referred to, and occasionally studied very thoroughly, if you would reap the full benefit of them. Whenever you are reading or studying, take care to have within reach, gazetteers, maps, biographical charts, dictionaries, encyclopaedi- as, &c., and never grudge the time that yoa spend in consulting them. However irksome may have been the writing of themes at school, you cannot relinquish the frequent exercise of the mind in composition, without neglecting one of the most important means of mental culture. Nothino^ is a o-reater help to accuracy of statement, and accuracy 426 MENTAL CULTURE. of thought. Those who are unaccustomed to this exercise, may begin by writing down the thoughts of others from memory ; a sermon or a lecture, a conversation or a passage from a book, will furnish a topic. In the last case, the novice can compare her composition with the original, and so correct it. The more vari- ed the subjects you treat of, the more useful will be the exercise; and if the labor of compo- sition be irksome to you, there can be no stron- ger proof that your mind requires the disci- pline. It should be remembered, that, however valuable these compositions are, as exercises of the young mind, they seldom have any in- trinsic merit, and should, therefore, be kept to yourGelf, and destroyed when they have an- swered their purpose. Having been frequently applied to for a list of the books which I should recommend a young lady with plenty of leisure to read, I presume that such a guide will be sought for in this work, and shall therefore endeavour to furnish it. * No course of reading can be pointed out, which will suit the minds of all equally well, or be accessible to the generality of readers. Many must be satisfied to cull from it, what the scanty libraries around them will supply ; but such may comfort themselves with the reflection, that a few books, thorough- * See Note A, at the end of the volume. COURSE OF READING. 427 ly studied and well assimilated to the mind, do us more good than a hasty, careless perusal of many volumes. Every well educated person, whose mother tongue is English, must be acquainted with the great poets who have adorned and enriched the literature of England. Many of them it is sufficient to read ; but you must study Milton, and Shakspeare, become intimately acquainted wdth Young, Goldsmith, Thomson, Gray, Par- nel, Cowper, Campbell, Burns, Wordsworth, and Southey; also the ethical parts of Pope's poetry. Always read the life of an author in connex- ion with his works, if you would fully under- stand and appreciate them ; but beware of surrendering your mind passively to what the biographer may think of his subject. John- son's "Lives of the Poets" is a celebrated w^ork, and one worthy of an attentive perusal in connexion with the British Poets ; but it contains many of that great author's pre- judices, and some examples of flagrant injus- tice, against which the reader should be on his guard. In judging of the character of the English poets, from Chaucer to Cowper, you will find no better guides than Campbell in his " Speci- mens of the British Poets," and Dr. Aikin in his " Letters to a Young Lady, on a Course of 428 MENTAL CULTURE. English Poetry." Indeed, in a majority of the poets mentioned by Campbell, the specimens which he has given, together with " Aikin's Select Works of British Poets," are sufficient for a young reader. Campbell's "Biographical and Critical Notices of the British Poets," his " Essay on English Poetry," and his Lectures on Poetry, in the " New Monthly Magazine," will assist you in forming a correct taste and in appreciating the various merits of the differ- ent poets. Study Shakspeare with Schlegel's Lectures and Mrs. Jameson's " Characteristics of Wo- men." Your course of reading should be partly de- termined by the interest excited in your mind by accidental circumstances and conversations. When you have heard an animated discussion of the merits of certain standard works, with which you are unacquainted, that is the time to read them, whilst your mind is all alive to the sub- ject. If you are introduced to a foreigner, who discourses of his own country till he awakens an interest in scenes and manners that are new to you, follow up the impression, by reading all you can find that relates to those subjects.* If anything leads your mind to consider the philosophy of language and grammar, and you become interested in examining the instrument * See Note B, at the end of tlio volume. CONCLUSION. 429 that you are constantly using, you will be great- ly assisted in doing so, by reading " Harris's Hermes," and " The Diversions of Purley." Rhetoric may next claim your attention ; and if your mind is properly awakened to the sub- ject, you will find great entertainment, as well as instruction, in the following works ; " Blair's Lectures on Rhetoric," " Kames's Elements of Criticism," and '• Campbell's Philosophy of Rhetoric." Of the Tattler, Spectator, Rambler, and numerous other periodical papers which had such a vogue in the last century, it is now ne- cessary to read only a selection ; and this has been wisely made by Mrs. Barbauld, and pub- lished for the benefit of young persons, with an admirable critical essay prefixed to it. Works of sentiment and morality are so numerous, and of so mixed a character, that, whilst great care is necessary in making a wise selection, the number of good ones is too large for me to attempt a list of them. CONCLUSION. I HOPE that no one can have read the pre- ceding pages, without perceiving, that I con- sider all true happiness to depend on the faithful performance of duty, and all duty to 430 CONCLUSION. be based upon love to God and love to man ; that, where these affections fill the heart they show themselves in the smallest as well as the greatest affairs of life ; that nothing is too trifling to be referred to those two great prin- ciples, and that it is Avith a view to making the most of life, under those influences, that I in- culcate the value of time, the advantages of m^ethod, the happiness of virtue, the healthful- ness of constant, vigorous action, both of body and mind, and the importance of choosing nicely bet\veen the various occupations which life presents. The hints which I proposed giving to young ladies on leaving school, have now filled a vol- ume, the size of which may look sufficiently formidable in their eyes, and yet the half has not been said of what would be useful advice to them. The subject embraces so w^ide a field, that no single volume can do more than touch on a few topics. I have chosen the most obvi- !s because they are of most frequent recur- rence, and must leave the rest, in the hope that those whose attention has been arrested by what is here said, will follow out for them- selves these suggestions, and that they w^ill apply the principles here laid dow^n, to the thousand other particulars which should 1» regulated by them. NOTES 431 NOTE A. LIST OF BOOKS FOR A COURSE OF READING ON HISTORY AND BIOGRAPHY. HISTORY. Historical Books of the Bible. — Josephus's History.— Jahn's Hebrew Commonwealtli. — Milman's History of the Jews. Rollin's Ancient History. — Beloe's Herodotus. — Travels of Anacharsis. — Mitford's Greece. With these may be read the Iliad and Odyssey, also Plutarch's Lives, as each name occurs in history- Ferguson's History of the Roman Republic. — Baker's Livy. — Middleton's Life of Cicero. — Murphy's Tacitus. — Sis- mondi's Decline of the Roman Empire. Miiller's Universal History. — Hallam's History of the Middle Ages. — James's Life of Charlemagne. — Mills History of the Crusades and of Chivalry. Turner's History of England. — The most interesting Chapters in Henry's and Lingard's Histories of England. — Burnet's Histor}'^ of His Own Times. Shakspeare's Historical Plays, and Scott's Historical Novels, in chrono- logical order, and Miss Aikin'.s Memoirs, may be rend with these histories. Robertson's History of Scotland. — Scott's Tales of a Grand- father, 1st, 2d, aiid 3d Series. Scott's Poems and Scottish Tales may be read with these. Scott's Tales of a Grandfather, 4th Series. — Robertson's Charles V. — Watson's Philip H. and Philip HL — Sully's Memoirs. Vertot's Revolutions of Sweden. — Voltaire's Charles XIL Vertot's Revolutions of Portugal. —Sismondi's History of the Italian Repiiblics, (abridged in Lardners Cabinet of His- tory). — Roscoe's Lorenzo de' Medici and Leo X.— Sketches from Venetian History. — Malcolm's History of Persia. Irvine's Life of Columbus. — Robertson's History of America. — BancrofVs History of America. — Winthrop's Journal, (Sav- 432 NOTES. age's Edition). — Hutchinson's History of Massachusetts, with Minot's Continuation. — Belknap's History of New Hampshire. — R.amsay's American Revolution. — Lee's Memoirs of the War in the Southern Department. Read, with these histories, the Biographies of Peun, Jay, Hamilton, Hen- ry, Greene, Otis, Quincy, Morris, The Signers of the Declaration of Indepen- peiice, Sparks's American Biography, and any other lives of distinguished Americans, that you can get. Tlie biographies, mentioned in the foregoing list, are of char- acters especially connected with the history of their country ; but there is a long list of interesting lives, which have no such connexion, and may be read at odd times, and whenever you can obtain the books, always taking care to have a clear idea, before you begin, of the history of the period to which they belong. I will name a few of the most celebrated, that you may know what to fix upon, when the opportunity offers. When you can read in succession the biographies of contempo- raries, this will add much to the interest, and make you feel familiar with the scenes described. BIOGRAPHY. Gilpin's liives of the Reformers. — Account of the Gilpin Family, in Warner's liiterary Recollections. — Life of Eliza- beth Smith, and Henry Kirke White. — Scott's Lives of the Novelists. — Johnson's Lives of the Poets. — Boswell's Life of Johnson. — Madame D'Arblay's Life of Dr. Burney. — Forbes's Life of Beattie. — Teignmouth's Life of Sir William Jones. — Southey's Life and Correspondence of Cowper. — Cunningham's Lives of Painters and Sculptors. — Lives of Collingwood, Cuvier, Howard, Oberlin, Burns, Schiller, Wakefield, Wesley, and Mrs. Cappe. NOTE B. Travels are very entertaining and instructive ; their perusal should always be accompanied by the study of maps. A few of the most celebrated are the following. Brace's Travels in Abyssinia. — Denon's Travels in Egypt. — Belzoni's Personal Narrative. — Humboldt's Personal Narra- tive. — Clarke's Travels in Russia. — Mackenzie's Travels in Iceland. — Mungo Park's Mission to Africa. — Denham and Clapperton's Travels in Africa. — Simond's Italy, France, and England. — Eustace's Tour in Italy. — Rome in the Nineteeiith Century. NEW PUBLICATIONS. TWICE-TOLD TALES. BY NATHANIEL HAWTHORNE. This work, in one volume duodecimo, is composed of a series of Tales, which have been before published in the New-England Magazine, Token, &lc. although the author's name is now for the first time given to the public. It has been received with uncommon favor, and has elicited universal commendation from the public press. Many of the Tales have also been copied with high praise by some of the literary peri- odicals of England. Extracts from several critical notices of it will be found below. The Tales which make up the volume are as follows : — The Gray Champion, Suiulay at Home, The Wedding Knell, The Minister's Black Veil, The May-Pole of Merry Mount, The Gentle Boy, Mr. Higginbottom's Catastrophe, Little Annie's Ramble, Wakefield, A Rill from the Town-Pump, The Great Carbuncle, The Proi)hetic Pictures, David Swan, Sights from a Steeple, The Hollow of the Three Hills, The Vision of the Fountain, Fancy's Show-Box, Dr. Heidegger's Experiment. " Most of these tales and sketches have appeared before, in an- nuals and periodical publications, where they were noticed, at once, as remarkable productions, and their merit amply justifies their being collected and published in a separate volume. Mr. Hawthorne is endowed, in no inconsiderable degree, with those ele- ments which, when combined, make up the mysterious essence called genius. Without being affected or unnatural, his style of writing and thinking is marked, original, and peculiar, — copying no models, and stamped with the vigorous impress of individuality. There is nothing, in his book, of the hackneyed commonplace of the mob of story-writers and essayists. lie has evidently been a solitary man, and yet, as we should judge, more of an observer and thinkef; than reader. He has gathered the h:irvest of a quiet eye That broods and sleeps on its own heart. He is a keen and delicate observer, and cuts through the superfl- cial rind into the heart and marrow of his subject. He delights to startle his readers with novel incidents, striking combinations, and unexpected turns of the narrative. He is remarkable for his power of producing vivid and deep impressions by means of very un- promising materials. The most prosaic forms of life supply him with glimpses of beauty and touches of pathos and the deepest hues of tragedy, because he deals not with the garb and decora- tions, but with"^the naked heart and mind of man. He reminds us of those chemists who extract the most penetrating and aromatic essences from common wild flowers and garden herbs. The con- tents of his volume are of unequal merit, and we are free to confess, that we prefer the grace and sweetness of such papers as ' Little Annie's Ramble,' or ' A Rill from the Town- Pump,' to those of a more ambitious cast, and in which thie page glows with a wider and more fearful interest, like "The Minister's Black Veil' and ' Dr. Heidegger's Experiment.' A book like this, evincing a mind of such peculiar organization, may, or may not become popu- lar ; but whether they read it or not, the public may be assured, that in this unpretending Volume by a countryman and neighbor, they will find more of that which indicates thought in the writer and begets thought in the reader, than in nine-tenths of the English re- prilits, whicli are so eagerly devoured. " The work is published by tlie American Stationers' Company in a style of typographical execution very creditable to them." — Boston Daily Adi^ertiser. " This modest volume, which comes before us without preface, or any sort of appeal to the public regard, is well calculated to stand on its own merits, and to acquire enduring popularity. The author possesses the power of winning immediate attention, and of sustain- ing it, by a certain ingenuous sincerity, and by the force of a style at once simple and graceful. In all his descriptions, whether of scenes or emotions, nature is his only guide. In short, in quiet humor, in genuine pathos, and deep feeling, and in a style equally unstudied and pure, the author of 'Twice-Told Tales' has few equals, and with perhaps one or two eminent exceptions, no supe- rior in our country. We confidently and cordially, therefore, com- mend the beautiful volume to the attention of our readers." — IVie Knickerbocker. " The style of this writer is remarkable for ease, grace, and deli- cacy 5 in which qualities, as well as in purity and classical finish, it will compare advantageously with that of the best living Ensflish writers. In the adaptation' of a style appropriate to the subject on which he writes, Mr. Hawthorne is peculiarly happy. When portraying the times of the Puritans, for instance, the style is in such perfect accordance with the subject, that the reader fancies himself carried back to the age and presence of those stern and self-denying men. Probably we have no wTiter. more deeply versed in the early literature and history of this countrv, or who can so well describe the manners and customs of the Pilgrim Fathers. " One of the greatest merits of this author is originality of con- ception. The reader cannot fail to perceive that the pieces in this volume are perfectly distinct conceptions, differing among them selves, and unlike wliat other writers have conceived ; and this too, without any unnatural straining after originality, but the natural eflect of a mind that forms its own combinations, and takes its own views respecting them. " There is much of strong thought and deep feeling in this book, though there is little or none of what is often termed powerful writ- ing, i. e. ranting, and foaming at the mouth — lacerating the read- ers nerves, and, as it were, taking his sympathies by storm. The author sometimes gives too free a rein to fancy, but never leaves entirely the range of human sympathies. There is a pervading warmth in all the stories, which proves them to be, iu a certain sense, true to nature. " To characterize a few of the articles, we should say, that ' The CIray Champion' shows a massive simplicity of conception, and that its coloring is sombre, as befitted the people and times. It was an original and a fortunate idea, that of making the old man the type of the hereditary spirit of New England, and connecting his reappearance with the great occasions on which that sj)irit is, and shall be manifested. ' The Gentle Boy ' is beautifully written, and in it the author has struck a vein of the deepest pathi s. The boy is a character of tenderness and beauty, more fit for Heaven than for the world, and therefore inevitably crushed by human sufferings and wrongs. ' Sunday at Home,' ' Little Annie's Ramble,' and ' Sights from a Steeple ' may form one class, the merit of which consists in a graphic representation of visible objects, and connect- ing those objects with thoughts, images, and sentiments appropriate to each, so that nothing passes before the eye without being turned to some purpose in the mind. 'David Swan," aptly termed 'a Fantasy,' is a conception which will impress some readers very strongly, while others will see little merit in it. The execution of tiiis piece is admi.able : the dreamlike flow of those events which we neither see, nor hear, nor are otherwise sensible of, was to be illustrated, and the author has ingeniously done it in such a manner, that, while the passing scenes are distinctly painted, they seem rather like visions sweeping past the sleeping David than like re- alities." — Augusta Age. " — The volume of ' Twice-Told Tales,' by Nathaniel Hawthorne, which might be repeated many times without wearying the reader. There is real genius shown in every page of his Writing, — a deli- cate taste and quick perception which create the finest touches of feeling and fancy ; a brilliant and bold imagination which leads him far out of the beaten track of common story-tellers ; and a beautiful simplicity and elegance of style which place him among the very first of American writers. Every story in this little volume is marked by some distinctive beauty and excellence. Mr. Haw- thorne's quiet and cheerful humor brightens every view of human nature, while a tone of pensive feeling breathes out even from the lightest sports of his fancy. It is this combination which makes him so fascinating a writer, and which has been said to be an unfail- ing characteristic of true genius. A fine moral tone pervades all the creations of his fancy, which gives them a still stronger hold upon our regard. We cannot but hope to hear again from one so eminently qualified to take a conspicuous rank among those who have already gained a wide and enduring fame. " We are glad to perceive that the book is printed in the neat and beautiful style which marks every work that is published by the American Stationers Co." — Salem Gazette. " Some of the stories in this very pleasant book have already appeared in the annuals, but will bear reprinting. Mr. Haw- tnorne is one of those shrewd, yet gentle observers, who * reap the harvest of a ^Mze^ eye.' There is none of the imitation, — imita- tion, — imitation, — together with the ridiculous pretence and vexatious fooleries of A. B. and C. through the alphabet, who profess to be the stars of our literary hemisphere ; and all whose petty twinkling is from so much borrowed light as their small cun- ning enables them to appropriate from foreign sources Mr. Haw- thorne differs from all this genus in observing nicely, and then revealing his discoveries in a natural manner. His style reminds us more of Washington In-ing, than of any other American writer j and we do not see why he may not claim to rank near hira sine longo intervallo. " Both the books referred to, are very handsome specimens of typography, and do credit to the American Stationers Company, from whose press they issue." — Newbunjport Herald. " The rich and quiet humor which pervades every page, renders it one of the pleasantest companions in the world, for a leisure hour. It contains eighteen tales, of which ' A Rill from the Town- Pnmp/ and ' Dr. Heidegger's Experiment ' are among the best. They were originally published, we believe, in the New England Magazine, ai d were read with great avidity. In their present form they will prove a sure cure for ennui, and, as we before observed, a pleasant companion for a leisure hour." — Eastern Argus. ''Mr. Hawthorne's style is rich, refined, and graceful, and the present volume is an ornament to the literature of our country." — Boston Atlas. " The writer of these Tales is by no means destitute of literary fame ; neither is he, by his productions, wholly unknown to some of our readers. We should indeed hope he is not to most of them, otherwise they have deprived themselves of much pleasure which they might have derived from a perusal of such of these stories as have already been offered them, at different seasons, in one or more of our periodicals. " The Tales are so tvell told, that their author has done veil, to collect, arrange, and publish them together. Telling so well as they do on repetition, to our readers, we really hope and do not distrust but that they will tell icell to the author, in the form both of literary credit, and also of that great essential to supply man's bodily wants, pecuniary recompense. ' The stories,' to use the language of one well qualified to judge, ' will bear not only being " twice told," but you may apply to each Horace's test of fine writing ; Decies repetifa placebit — tell it ten times, and it will continue to charm." — Provi- dence Journal. "The Tales are worth tivice telling and a dozen readings." Boston Courier. LITTLE GIRL'S OWN BOOK. BY MRS. CHILD. A ncio and improved Edition, This popular work, of which many thousands have been sold, still meets with an unabated demand. A new edition has just been published, very much im- proved in external appearance, being ornamented with a tastefully engraved fancy cover. This favorite little book possesses the rare merit of combining usefulness with ornament and amusement, at the same time that it affords a rich fund of pleasure, in describing a great variety of games and methods of youtliful amusement. It is eminently useful, in giving directions for many important branches of an accom- plished female education, as well as in the recommend- ation and illustration of a series of active exercises, calculated, not to make children rude and disorderly, but to promote physical strength and gracefulness of manner. The publishers can with great confidence recommend it, as a delightful aid to the improvement of the leisure hours of youth, and as containing nothing which will in any degree mislead the minds or vitiate the morals of children. PETER PARLEY'S GEOGRAPHY OF THE BIBLE. This v.'ork is intended for both connnon and Sab- bath Schools. *' The leading objects of the book," 6 as stated by the author in the preface, *' are to fortify the youthful mind in a belief of the Scriptures, — to increase his interest, and aid his comprehension, in the perusal of the sacred pages. To secure these desirable ends, I have endeavoured to carry my little reader with me across the Atlantic and the Mediter- ranean, and place him on the shores of Palestine ; I have endeavoured to show him that Jerusalem really exists, that the waters of the Jordan still continue to flow, and that the sea of Galilee which bore our Saviour and his disciples upon its bosom is still to be seen ; I have endeavoured to show that nature is thus a witness to the truth of the Bible, and that the scat- tered ruins of temples and cities, now gone to decay, also speak of those times of which the Bible speaks, and thus attest its veracity. I have also endeavoured, by the use of maps, and other means, to give a clear idea of the various countries mentioned in Scripture, their extent and boundaries, the position of mountains, the relative situation of cities and their distances from each other, the character of climates, the aspect of nature, and the manners and customs of the people in the various countries." " We hail with pleasure our old friend Feter Parley, and are satisfied that his appearance will afford unalloyed gratification to all of our little friends who have (and we trust there are but few who have not) been favored with a reading of his other published tales and stories. We find that the old gentleman since his last visit, has lost none of his accustomed spirit and vivacity, and that he mani- fests as great a desire and ability as formerly to communicate in- struction that is both entertaining and useful. " He is now desirous of communicating to the young, intelligence about ' Bible times,' and proposes travelling with them through Jerusalem, and other places of Palestine, Judea, Samaria, Galilee, Syria, Macedonia, Greece, Rome, Canaan, Assyria, Babylon, Per- sia, &c., and in this account of his plan, in order that his intentions may be perfectly understood, he gives a number of maps, and very many cuts, showing some of the wonderful things to be met with, and exhibiting some of the cities, temples, ruins, &r;.. to be seen." — Providt'Tire Jounial. ¥ UNIVERSITY OF r.AT ti?/-^" UfflversityofCaUformaUbrary Los Angeles ' ,.}f 310/ c 01 88 ^^'^^m-.^^ ■' ,50r wT^ovtfaiii^ IBRARYO^ ^ > 3 1158 00421 2055 ^:^AJ1V5in!lTA^ o CO -< PLEA?^ DO NOT REMOVE t 3: a> THIS BOOK CARD ^ILIBRARYQ^ ^.!/OJIWD JO"^ University Reseorcli Library S