HOW TO. BE A LADY:
A
BOOK FOR GIRLS,
CONTAINING USEFUL HINTS ON THE
FORMATION OF CHARACTER.
BY
HARVEY NEWCOMB,
AUTHOR OF THE "YOUNG LADY'S GUIDE," ETC
4
..
EIGHTH EDITION.
BOSTON:
GOULD, KENDALL, AND LINCOLN.
1850.
I,
1
.1
i 
, $,
I  T
, IV T'/,? 5"o - —:'
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1846,
By  GOULD, KENDALL, AND LINCOLN5
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of
Mlassachusetts. 
PREFACE.
"PREFiCE! I never read a preface, it's
so prosy," said a bright-eyed, sprightly little girl;-C'I want to get at the story."
Her object in reading was to be amused.
If she had desired to be benefited by what
she read, she would have perused the Author's preface, in order to understand why
he wrote the book.  The "Young Lady's
Guide" was intended for a class of females,
who have attained some degree of maturity of character, and who are supposed
already to have entered upon a religious
life. The success of that work has led
the Author, for several years, to contemplate the preparation of another, for a
younger class of females. Having daugh
#I
I- _... at 
# _.~~~~~~~~~,,; 
PREFACE.
ters of his own, and having been many
years employed in writing for the young,
he hopes to be able to offer some good advice, in the following pages, in an entertaining way, for girls or misses, between
the ages of eight and fifteen. His object
is, to assist them in forming their charac ters upon the best model; that they miay
becomne well-bred, intelligent, refined, and
good; and then they will be LADIES, in the
highest sense. This book covers substan-.
tially the same ground occupied by another
work for boys, issued simultaneously with
it. Some parts of both are identical; while
other parts are entirely different. If it shall
be the means of benefiting one immortal
mind, the Author will be abundantly re  warded.
JANUARY, 1847.
4 
CONTENTS.
7
12
III. PIETY, AS THE SPRING OF ACTION AND
V. TREATMENT OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS
17
24
37
45
51
56
59
64
83
100
109
121
VI.
VII.
VIII.
IX.
X.
XI.
XII.
* XIII.
XIV.
XV.
XVI.
XVII.
EDUCATION OF THE MIND............... 145
READING............................. 155
WRITING.............................. 161
1 * 
CONTENTS.
XVIII.  INDOLENCE......................... 165
XIX. ON DOING ONE THING AT A TIME....... 168
XX. ON FINISHING WHAT IS BEGUN......... 170
XXI.  CHOICE OF SOCIETY AND FORMATION OF
FRIENDSHIPS.................... 172
XXII. ORNAMENTAL EDUCATION.............. 176
XXIII. ON AMUSEMENTS.................... 181
XXIV. GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE........ 192
XXV. ON THE ART OF AGREEABLE AND PROF            ITABLE CONVERSATION............ 198
XXVI.  INQUISITIVENESS..................... 206
XXV1I. ON THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ABLE TO
SAY No.......................... 209
XXVIII.  ON BEING USEFUL................... 212
XXIX. ON BEING CONTENTED............... 216
XXX. UNION OF SERIOUS PIETY WITH HABIT            UAL CHEERFULNESS.............. 220
14
. -1
6
t 
HOW TO BE A LADY.
CHAPTER I.
ON CHILDHOOD AND YOUTH.
IN one sense, very young persons are apt to
think too much of themselves- in another, not
enough. When they think they know more than
their parents and teachers, or other elderly peo    ple, and so set up to be bold and smart, then they
think too much of themselves.  It used to be
said, when I was a boy, that "Young folks think
old folks are fools; but old folks know young
folks are fools." Although I would be very far
indeed from calling you fools, because you have
already acquired much knowledge, and have the
capacity for acquiring much more, yet, with
reference to such knowledge as is acquired by
experience, and in comparison with what there is
4   to be known, there is "more truth than poetry,"
I
I 
THE GREAT ELM.
in the old adage. But, when young people suppose it is of no consequence what they do, or
how they behave, because they are young, then
they do not think enough of themselves. Should
you see a man riding with a little stick for a
whip, you would not think his stick worth your
notice at all; but the biggest tree that ever I
saw grew from a little willow stick that a man
rode home with, and then planted in his garden.
You have sat under the beautiful shade of a
great elm-tree; and when you have looked upon
its tall, majestic trunk, and its great and strong
branches, with their ten thousand little limbs
waving gracefully before the wind, you have
been filled with admiration and delight.  "What
a mighty tree!" you say; "I wonder how long it
has been growing." But the seed of that tree,
when it was planted, many years ago, was no
bigger than a mustard-seed; and if you had seen
the little tiny sprout that your grandfather was
tying up with so much care, when it was a few
years old, you would have wondered that a man
should think so much of such an insignificant
twig. But, if he had let it grow up as it began,
without any care, it never would have been the
stately tree it is now.  That was the most im   portant period in its life, when it was a little twig.
8
'i.. 
LITTLE THIIN GS.
It began to lean over, and grow crooked and
ugly.  If it had not been trained up then, it
would have continued to grow worse and worse;
and, after it had grown to be a tree, it could not
have been straightened at all. Now, you are, in
some respects, like this little twig. You, too,
have just begun to be; and now your character
is pliable, like the young tree. But, unlike it,
your being is to have no end. Instead of growing a few hundred years, like a great tree, you
are to live forever. And every thing that you
do now must have an influence in forming your
character for your whole being. In this latter
sense, you cannot think too much of yourself;
for you are the germ of an immortal being.
Did you ever stand by the shore of a placid
lake or pond, in a calm, sunny day, and throw a
little stone into its smooth, silvery waters? Did
you observe how, first, a little ripple was formed
around the place where it struck, and this was
followed by a wave, and then, beyond, another,
and another, till the whole surface of the water
was disturbed? It was a very little thing that
you did; and yet it agitated a great body of
water. So it is with childhood and youth; the
most insignificant action you perform, in its influence upon your character, will reach through
the whole period of your existence.
9 
...,.
BEING LADYLIKE.
It will not do for you to say, "It is no matter
how I behave now; I shall do differently when I
am a lady." What you are while you are a girl,
you will be when you become a woman.   "But,
would you have a little girl act like a woman?"
Not precisely.  But I would have her act like a
lady. Not to put on airs - not to put herself
forward, and take the place of a woman before
she is big enough to fill it - not to feel above
labor, and despise those who perform it- not to
look down with scorn upon every thing that is
common- not to treat with contempt those who
cannot dress as well as herself, or who have not
seen so much of style and fashion.  Those who
behave so are pseudo-ladies.  A true lady would
despise such meanness. To be a lady, one must
behave always with propriety; and be civil, cour   teous, and kind, to all. To treat any human
being with rudeness, would show a want of
breeding of which no lady would be guilty.
But the romping, roisterous miss, who pays no
regard to propriety of conduct, will never be a
lady. You will not, however, misunderstand me.
Do not suppose that I would have you dull and
mopish, never manifesting any gayety of spirit or
playfulness of conduct; but, in all these things,
I would have you behave with strict regard to
propriety.
10
I-7~
"i
I 
THE FAIRY WORLD.
Very young persons sometimes live in an ideal
world. What they imagine in their plays seems
real. They have a little fairy world in their
minds, in which they live more, and take greater
delight, than they do in what is real and true.
To this I do not object, within certain bounds;
but often it becomes a passion, so that they lose
all relish for sober, every-day life.   For such
creatures of fancy real life is too dull, and what
concerns realities, too grave. Perhaps they will
not like my book, because it treats of things true
and real. But I beg them to consider that,
through the whole of their being, they are to be
concerned chiefly with realities; and therefore,
to do them substantial good, we must speak to
them of things real, and not of those airy things
that belong to the fairy land. But real things
are, truly, more interesting than the creations of
fancy. The things of fancy interest you more
only because they appear new and less common.
A person who has always lived in the country,
and is used to sitting under the wide-spreading,
shady tree, would be more pleased with the picture of a tree than with a tree itself But one
brought up in the city would cast away the picture, and hasten to enjoy the cool shade of the
beautiful tree. A castle in the air may please
the fancy; but you want a real house to live in 
-!
l
wt'
t~l 
12
CHAPTER II.
NATURE AND OBJECTS OF EDUCATION.
PERHAPS some of my readers, when they see
the title of this chapter, will think only of confinement in school, of books, and of hard study,
and so be inclined to pass over it, as a dry subject, which they have so much to do with, every
day, that they have no wish to think of it in a
moment of relaxation. But I beg them to stop a
minute, and not throw me away, among the old
school-books, till they have heard me through.
I assure them that I use the term education in a
far different sense.> I think it means much more
than going to school and studying books. This
is only a small part of education. Mr. Walker
defines education, "7The formation of manners
in youth." But this is a very imperfect defini  tion; and I am afraid there may be found some
who would even doubt whether education has
any thing to do with manners. Mr. Webster
gives a better definition: - " Education compre   hends all that series of instruction and discipline
which is intended to enlighten the understand
I.
, 
F.i 
ir,.
'I 
4 _
i:
II
.
i:
il'i 
VRMAVIC N OF CHARACTER.
ing, correct the temper, and form the manners
and habits of youth, and fit them for usefulness
in their future stations;"-  all, in fact, that is
necessary to make a man or a woman - a gentle man or a lady.
The original root, from which the word edu cation is derived, means to lead out, to conduct,
to form, to fashion, to beat out, to forge.  It
was used with reference to the forging of an instrument out of a piece of metal, or the chiselling of a statue out of a block of marble. This
furnishes a good illustration of my ideas of education. It is a process by which a character is
formed out of rude or unwrought materials. It
is not confined to mere school learning. A person may be very learned, and yet not half educated. There are many steps in the process
The ore must first be dug up by the miner;
then smelted at the furnace, and the metal separated from the dross; then wrought into bars at
the foundry; afterwards forged by the smith;
and then, finally, polished by the finisher. The
marble must first be quarried, or blasted out of
the ledge; then cut into blocks; then transported; then wrought with the hammer and chisel; and finally, polished. This gives a good
idea of education. It is not merely what is done
to form the character in school; but it comprises
2
13 
14       FORMATION OF CHARACTER.
all the influences which are exerted upon the
young, in training them up and forming their
characters. Education begins in the family. It
is carried forward ill the school It is affected,
for good or for evil, by the influence of public
worship, lectures, books, amusements, scenery,
companions, &c. In all places and circumstances, something is doing towards the formation of character.
Yet there is one important respect in which
education, or the formation of character, differs
essentially from the process described ill this
illustration. The block of marble, or the piece
of metal, is passive; the whole process is per formed upon it by another. But no person can
be educated in this way; every one that is
educated must be active. You may be drilled
through all the schools, and have every advan tage at home and in society; and yet, without
your own active cooperation, you can never be
educated. But, if you are determined to be edu cated, you will turn every thing to some account
Every thing will be a school to you; for you will
i,iake contributions to your stock of knowledge
from every object you see; and by seeking to
act discreetly, wisely, and correctly, in every
place, you will be constantly forming good
habits. Like the little busy bee, you will suck
t
i
!
i
._1
I i
t
I
i,
!Ia 
SELF-EDUCATION.
honey from every flower. You will commune
with your own heart upon your bed, and exercise
your powers of thought in useful meditation.
You will converse with God in your secret place,
and seek wisdom of IHim who has promised to
give liberally to those that ask.  In company,
you will be more ready to hear than to speak;
and you will never meet with any so ignorant
but you may learn from them some useful lessons. You will exercise your mind upon every
person and object you meet.   You will study
philosophy in the fields, by the brooks, on the
hills, in the valleys, and upon the broad canopy
of heaven. It has been well observed, that the
difference between a wise man and a fool is, that
one goes through the world with his eyes wide
open, while the other keeps them shut.
You will perceive, then, that your education
is continually going on, whether you think of it
or not.   Your character is constantly forming
It is your business to keep out of the way of bad
influences, and submit yourself to the moulding
of the good. Keep in mind the great truth that
you are forming a character for eternity. Some
years ago, there -were found on the banks of the
Mississippi River the tracks of a human being,
deeply imprinted  in  the solid rock.   These
tracks were made in the soft clay, which in time
15
11 
FOOT PRINTS.
became hardeneJ, and formed into stone; -now,
the impression  is immovable.   You  now  resemble this soft clay. Every thing with which
you come in contact makes an impression. But,
as you grow older, your character acquires solidity, and is less and less affected by these influences, till at length it will be like the hard stone,
and the impressions made upon you, at this season will become confirmed habits.
All the impressions made upon your character
ought to be such as will not need to be removed.
Washington Allston, the great painter, had been
a long time at work on a most magnificent paint ing. He had nearly completed it, when his keen
eye discovered some defects in a portion of the
piece.   He hastily drew his rough brush  over
that portion of the picture, intending to paint it
anew. But in the midst of his plans, death seized
him, and his painting remains, just as he left it
No other person can carry out the conception
that was in his mind. If you allow wrong im pressions to be made upon your forming charac ter, death may meet you with his stern mandate,
and fix them forever, as immovable as it left the
rough print of the coarse brush upon Allston's
canvass
I
* 4
_,1
i
!'
I
i
IiI
l1
16
J?
.]~
..
;,1
-41
I: i
.,
I,
I x
, I:
i
1,
':II
I' 
17
CHAPTER III.
PIETY, AS THE SPRING OF ACTION, AND REGU
LATOR OF THE SOUL.
A WATCH, to one who had never seen such a
piece of mechanism before, would be a great
wonder. It is an object of much curiosity to the
natives of savage and barbarous tribes, visited
by the missionaries.  It seems to speak and
move, as though instinct with life. I have read,
&omewhere, of a poor savage, who, seeing a
white man's watch lying on the ground, and
hearing it tick, supposed it to be some venomous
reptile, and, with a stone, dashed it in pieces. A
watch is an object of no less wonder to a child.
Children are full of curiosity, as my readers well
know. They wish to examine every thing they
see- to take it in pieces, and see how it is
made. I dare say my readers remember the
time when they sat on their father's knee, and
modestly requested him to show them the little
wheels of his watch.
If I could sit down with my young friends,
and take my watch in pieces, I would teach them 
THE WATCH.
a useful lesson. I would show them how a
watch resembles a human being. There is the
case, which may be taken off, and put by itself,
and still the watch will go as well as ever.  In
this respect, it is like the human body. Death
separates it from the soul, and yet the soul remains, with all its active powers. It still lives.
The inside of the watch, too, resembles the soul.
It has a great many different parts, all working
together in harmony -a great many wheels, all
moving in concert. So the soul has a great
many different powers or faculties, all designed
to operate in concert with each other, as the
understanding, the judgment, the conscience, the
will, the affections, the memory, the passions,
desires, &c.; and each one of these has a
part to. act, as important for the man as the
several wheels and springs of the watch If
every part of the watch is in order, and in its
proper place, it will keep exact time; but, if one
wheel gets disordered, it will derange the whole..
The secret power that moves the watch is unperceived. If you examine, you will see a large
wheel, with a smooth surface, round which is
wound a long chain, attached to another wheel,
with ridges for the chain to run upon. Inside
of the first-named wheel is the main-spring,
which, by means of the chain, moves the whole
I.
,
18
"I'
il'
'1 I;
- 11i ~
D'I
'.I'I
_i;
I'm 
THE BALANCE-WHEEL.
Machinery. The WILL is the main-spring of
the soul.   By a mysterious, invisible chain, it
holds all the powers of the soul and body at its
command. Not only the operations of the mind,
but the motions of the body are controlled by
the will.
But, if there were no check upon the mainspring of the watch, it would not give the time
of day. It would set all the wheels in rapid motion, and in a few moments the watch would
run down. To prevent this, there is a balancewheel, which turns backwards and forwards, by
means of a fine spring, called the hair-spring,
and so keeps the whole machinery in a regular
motion.  To this is attached a little lever, called
the regulator, which, by a gentle touch, works
on this delicate spring, so as to move the balancewheel faster or slower, as the case may be, to
make the movement exact and regular.
Now, if there were no checks on the will, it
would run on impetuously in its course, without
regard to consequences. And this we often see
in persons called wilful, self-willed, headstrong.
Children are often so; if let alone, their stubborn will would lead them to rush on headlong to
their own destruction. Without meaning to be
very accurate in these illustrations, I shall
call judgment the balance-wheel. This is the
19
i.:
L=
t
i
I I
il,
i
#
i 
THE REGULATOR.
faculty which perceives, compares, and decides,
keeps the mind balanced, and prevents its run   ning to extremes either way.
The hair-spring and regulator of the watch
I shall compare with conscience. A very slight
touch of the regulator moves the hair-spring, and
gives a quicker or a slower motion to the balance   wheel. But, if the watch is out of order, often   times the movement of the regulator has no effect
upon it. So, when the soul is in order, a very
slight touch of conscience will affect the judg   ment and regulate the will. But often, the soul
is so much out of order, that conscience will have
no effect upon it.
But who touches the regulator of the watch?
There is nothing in the watch itself to do this.
The power that moves the regulator is applied to
it.  So, the conscience is moved.  The Word of
God enlightens the conscience, and the Spirit of
God applies the word.  And this brings me to
the point which I had in my mind when I began
this chapter.  What a poor thing a watch is,
when it is out of order.  It is of no use.  A
watch  is made to keep the time of day; but,
whe   it is ou of orer  it wil  kee   no time1.'
fi
Ii
Or   fi  si   re,an   e   o   euae,i
wilntkepterih   ie
20 
THE SPRING OF ACTION.
of God, the soul is out of order. It does not
answer the purpose for which it was made. The
will is wrong; the judgment is wrong; the conscience is wrong.   And,  whatever  cultivation
may be bestowed upon the mind, it will not act
aright. In the very beginning, then, you want
piety, as the main-spring of action, and the regulator of the soul. Without this, you are not
prepared to begin any thing aright.  Iideed,
without it, you have no sufficient motive to
action.   You seem to be toiling and laboring
and wearying yourself for nothing. But piety
towards God gives a new impulse to the mind.
When you set out to improve your mind, if you
have no piety, the object to be gained by it is
very small. It can secure to you no more than,
perhaps, a little additional enjoyment, for the
brief space you are to continue in this world.
But piety opens to you a wide field of usefulness in this life, and the prospect of going forward in the improvement of your mind as long
as eternity endures. It must, therefore, give a
new spring and vigor to all the faculties of the
soul.  It does more.   It regulates the powers
of the mind, and the affections of the heart, and
gives a right direction to them all.
I would persuade you, then, as the first and
great thing, to seek  God.   Remember   what
I
1
It
I
1i
-111, 
22    THE FOUNDATION OF CHARACTER.
Christ has said, - " Seek ye first the kingdom of
God and his righteousness, and all these things
shall be added unto you." Here is the promise
that you shall have all else that is needful, if
you seek God first. Yield your heart to him,
and have his kingdom set up there.  Let him
rule in your heart, and devote yourself to his
service, and he will supply all your need. This,
also, will give a right direction to all your faculties, and lay a good foundation of character.
But, without it, you will be like a watch without
a balance-wheel or a regulator; you will be fit
neither for this life nor that which is to come.
And, it is of the utmost importance that you
should become pious now, while you are young.
If you would form a good character, you must
have a good foundation laid at the beginning.
Nothing but this can make a good foundation.
All your habits ought to be formed and settled
upon religious principles.   Religious motives
should enter into all your efforts to improve
your mind and cultivate your affections. And,
should you neglect religion now, and afterwards,
by the grace of God, be led to devote yourself
to him, you will find it hard and difficult to
overcome the wrong habits of mind and conduct
which you will have formed.
Piety, then, is the first thing to be considered, 
PIETY THE FIRST THING.
in the formation of character. \And remember,
also, that you are forming characterfor eternity;
and that your whole being, through a never end.
ing existence, is to be affected by the character
which you form now in your childhood and youth.
If you lay the foundation of your character now
in the love and fear of God, it will rise higher
and higher, in excellence, beauty, and loveliness, for ever and ever.   But if you lay the
foundation in selfishness and sin, and build accordingly, it will forever be sinking lower in
degradation and deeper in wretchedness.
23
.  b>W 
24
CHAPTER IV.
FILIAL PIETY.
NEXT to your duty to God comes your duty
to your parents; and you can  never form an
excellent, amiable, and lovely character, unless
the foundation of it is laid in filial piety, as
well as in piety towards God. Solomnon says to
the young, " Hear the instruction of thy father,
and forsake not the law of thy mother; for
they shall be an ornament of grace unto thy
head, and chains about thy neck." Nothing will
make you appear so lovely in the eyes of others
as a dutiful behaviour towards your parents;
and nothing will make you appear so unamiable
and unlovely as a disrespectful, disobedient carriage towards them. No ornament sits so gracefully upon youth as filial piety; no outward
adorning can compare with it.
Filial piety calls into exercise feelings towards your parents, similar to those which piety
towards God calls into exercise towards him;
such as esteem and veneration of his character,
love to his person, confidence in his word, sub
I
-1'~
i
ii
II
I
Iy 
GRATITUDE.
mission to his authority, and penitence for offences against him. When the heart is habituated to the exercise of these feelings towards
parents, it is prepared the more readily to exercise them towards God.   The promises which
God has made to those who honor their parents,
and his threatenings against those who dishonor
them, are similar to those which he has made
respecting honor and obedience to himself. You
owe it, therefore, to God, to exercise filial piety,
because he has required it, and because it is
one of the means he employs to cultivate piety
towards himself.   Gratitude, also, should lead
to filial piety, as well as to piety towards God;
for what God is to man, only in a lower sense,
the parent is to his child. Your parents are,
under God, the authors of your being. The
greater part of parents' lives is spent in rearing,
supporting, and educating their children.  For
this they wear out their strength in anxious care
and toil; they watch beside the bed of their
children when they are sick, with tender solicitude and sleepless vigilance; they labor to provide for them. But good parents are, most of all,
anxious that their children should grow up intelligent and virtuous, pious and happy. There is
no being but God to whom children are so much
indebted as to a faithful parent; and almost al.
3
25 
a
HABIT OF SUBMISSION.
the blessings that God bestows upon them  come
through their parents.
Filial piety has great influence on future character. One who has never been in the habit of
submitting to others, will always be headstrong
and self-willed; and such a character nobody
loves. You cannot always do as you please; and,
if such is your disposition, you will always be
unhappy when your will is crossed.  You will
be unwilling to submit to necessary restraints,
and this will irritate, and keep you in misery;
for you will never see the time in your life when
you will be so entirely independent of others
that you can have your own way in every thing.
Even the king on his throne cannot do this.
But, if you have always been in the habit of
submitting to your parents, these necessary restraints will be no burden. If, then, you would
be respected, beloved, and happy, when you
grow up and take your place in society, you
must  honor your parents.  Cultivate the habit
of submission to their authority; of respectful
attention to their instructions; and of affection
and reverence to their persons. These are the
habits that will make you respected, beloved,
and happy.  But as God has joined a curse to
parental impiety, so he makes it punish itself.
And thus you will find that it is generally fol
26 
FEELINGS TOWARD PARENTS.
lowed with the most dreadful consequences. Of
this I might give many painful examples; but
the narratives would swell my book to an immoderate size.
The whole duty of children to parents, is expressed by God himself in one word —HONOR.
This word is chosen, with great felicity, to express all the various duties of children toward
their parents. There is a great deal of meaning
in this little word, honor.
Do you ask, "How shall I honor my parents?"  In the first place, you must honor
them in your heart, by loving and reverencing
them, and by cultivating a submissive, obedient
disposition. It is not honoring your parents, to
indulge an unsubmissive, turbulent spir;t. To
be angry with your parents, and to feel that their
lawful commands are hard or unreasonable, is
dishonoring them. The authority which God
has given your parents over you is for your
good, that they may restrain you from evil and
hurtful practices, and require you to do what
will be, in the end, for your benefit. When they
restrain you, or require you to do what is not
pleasing to you, they have a regard to your best
interests. To be impatient of restraint, and to
indulge hard feelings toward them, is doing them
great dishonor. If you could read the hearts of
27 
r28     HONORING PARENTS IN WORD.
your parents, and see what a struggle it costs
them  to interfere with your  inclinations, you
would feel differently.  But these rebellious feel    ings of yours are inot only against your parents,
but against God, who gave them this authority
over you.
Children also honor or dishonor their parents
by their words.   You honor them, by addressing
them in respectful language, and in a tone of
voice indicating reverence and submission, giv    ing them those titles that belong to their su    perior station.  An example of this we have in
the answer of Samuel to what he supposed the
call of Eli, -" Here am I," - a form of speech
used by servants to their masters, and implying
attention to what was said, and a readiness to
execute what was commanded. But parents are
dishonored, when their children answer them
gruffly, or speak in a sharp, positive, angry, or
self-important tone; or when  they neglect to
accompany their address with the usual titles of
respect, but speak out bluntly, " Yes," or "No."
This shows the state of the heart. And I think
the reason why it is so difficult, in these days, to
teach children to say, "Yes, sir," " No, ma'am,"
&c., is, that they do not feel in their hearts the
respect which these terms imply.   You will per     ceive, by this remark, that I have no respect for
i
r
I
iI
I
,I
i.
11 
ATTENTION TO INSTRUCTION.
"he notion which prevails, in some quarters, that
these expressions are not genteel.
Children likewise dishonor their parents, when
they answer back, and argue against their com mands, or excuse themselves for not obeying.
It is as much as to say, they are wiser than their
parents -which is doing them a great dishonor.
To speak to them in disrespectful, reproachful,
or passionate language, or to speak of them or
their authority in such language to others, is
also a great offence against their honor. Under
th'aw of Moses, God punished this offence in
the same manner that he did blasphemy against
himself: -" He that curseth his father or his
mother shall surely be put to death." This
shows what a great offence it is in his sight.
Another way in which you honor your pa rents is, by giving respectful attention to their
instruction and counsels.   God has committed
your instruction and training to them; and when
they teach or advise you according to the Scrip ture, their instructions are the voice of God to
you. If you despise their instruction, you cast
contempt upon God, who speaks through them,
and who says, "My son, hear the instruction of
thy father, and forsake not the law of thy moth er." It is very natural for children to wish to
follow their own inclinations. The impetuosity
3 *
29 
30
CONFIDENCE IN PARENTS
of youth would hurry them on, heedlessly, in the
high-road to ruin.  And, often, they despise the
wholesome instruction and advice of their pa    rents, as only designed to interfere with their
pleasures, and abridge their enjoyments; while,
in truth, their parents look beyond mere pleasure,
to that which is of greater importance.  They
look upon these things in the light which age
and experience has given them.   If you were
going to a strange place, in a way with which
you were not acquainted, and should meet one
that had been that way before, you would put
confidence in what he should tell you of the way,
and follow his directions.   Your parents have
passed through the period of life on which you
are now entering, and they know the way.  You
will do well to confide in them, and abide by
their instructions.  If you neglect to do so, you
will be sure to get into difficulty. The path of
life is beset, on every side, with by-paths, leading
astray; and these by-paths are full of snares
and pit-falls, to catch the unwary, and plunge
them into ruin. Your parents have become ac    quainted with these ways, and know their dan    gers. If they are good people, and understand
them;an zitU  wnlillb  thei height llofl flnly for you
I  ~1
II 
Mi
I
>ti
.'~
L
ii.
.i 
OBEDIENCE.
to disregard their warnings.~ Multitudes, by
doing so, have rushed heedlessly on to ruin.
You must honor your parents, also, by a
prompt and cheerful obedience to their lawful
commands. I say lawful, because no one ought
to obey a command to do what is positively
wrong. If a wicked parent should command
his child to break the Sabbath, to lie, or to steal,
or to break any of God's commands, it would
be the child's duty to refuse, and meekly submit
to the punishment which the parent might inflict. It is not often that such things happen
among us; but our missionaries in Constantinople
have related two instances that are in point.
Two little Armenian girls had learned to read,
and obtained from the missionaries some ideas of
Christian morality. A person knocked at the
door of their house, and their father, not wishing
to see him, told one of them to go and tell the
person that he was not at home.  "That would
be telling a lie," said the daughter. "What
then?"  said the father; " it is a very little
thing.  You have only to say that I am  not at
home."   "Bult, father," she replied, " the Bible
says it is wicked to tell lies, and I cannot tell a
lie." He was angry, and called his other daugh ter, and told her to go. She replied, " Father,
I cannot, for it is wicked to lie." These children
31
Pl 
PROMPTNESS.
did right in refusing to obey such a command
But in no other case, except when told to do
-:     what is wrong, will a child be justified in refus          ing to obey.
Obedience must be prompt and cheerful.
Your parents are not honored, when obedience is
delayed to suit your convenience; nor when you
answer back, or try to reason against your pa          rents' commands, or plead for delay, that you may
first finish your own work.  A parent who  is
honored will never have to repeat the same com          mand.  Some children are bent on having their
own  way, and attempt to carry their point by
showing their parents that their way is best;
which is the same  as saying to them that they
are more ignorant than their children.  Neither
is sullen obedience honoring your parents.  Some
children, who dare not disobey their parents,
will go about doing what is required of them
with great reluctance, with perhaps a sullen
:    expression of the countenance, a flirt, an angry
step, or a slam of the door, or some other show
of passion. Such conduct is a grief to parents,
and an offence against God, who will not count
that as obedience, which is not done cheerfully.
But if you truly honor your parents from the
heart, you will not wait for their commands.
You will be always ready to obey the  slightest
.Ili
32
1.1 
ABSENCE OF PARENTS.
intimation of their wishes. It is a great grief to a
parent, when, out of respect to his child's feelings, he has expressed his wish, to be obliged to
add his command, before the thing will be done.
B filial  piety never appears so amiable  and
lovely as when it anticipates the wishes of parents, and supersedes the necessity of expressing
those wishes in advice or commands.
If you honor your parents in your heart,
you will pay an equal regard to their counsels
and commands, whether they are present or ab.
sent. If you cast off their authority as soon as
you are out of their sight, you greatly dishonor
them. Such conduct shows that you do not
honor them at all in your heart, but obey
themn only when you cannot disobey without
suffering for it. But if you keep their authority
always present with you, then you will do them
great honor; for you show that they have suc.
ceeded in fixing in your heart a deep-seated
principle of reverence and affection for them.
If you truly honor your parents in your heart,
you will obey them as well when they are absent
as present. The parents' authority and honor
are always present with the good child.
Children, likewise, honor or dishonor their
parents in their general behavior.  If they are
rude and uncivil, they reflect dishonor upon their
33
1;. 
A RIGHT HEART.
parents;  for people say, they have not been
trained and instructed at home.   But when their
behavior is respectful, correct, pure, and amia     ble, it reflects honor upon the parents.  People
will judge of the character of your parents by
your behavior. Are you willing to hear your
parents  reproachfully  spoken of?   No, your
cheek would glow with indignation at the person
who  should speak ill of your father or your
mother. But you speak evil of them, in your
conduct, every time  you  do any thing that re     flects dishonor upon them in the eyes of others.
The blame of your conduct will be thrown back
upon your parents.
But the true way to honor your parents, at all
times and in all circumstances, is, to have your
heart right with God.  If you have true piety of
heart toward God, you will show piety toward
your parents; for you  will regard the authority
of his commandment, and delight indoing what
will please him.  The fear of God,  dwelling in
your heart, will lead you to reverence all his
commands, and none more continually and con     scientiously than the one which requires you to
honor your parents. Every thing that you do
frtewilbedn,"o wiheesrie
j,f
I'
ame-laesbuwithgo   il  on   e
I
ii
;
I{
!
34
I 
A BLACK SPOT.
Filial piety adds a peculiar charm to the female character; while the want of it, in females, makes them appear like monsters. Disobedience, or the want of proper respect and
reverence to parents, is so contrary to the gentle nature of your sex, that it makes them appear
very unlovely. This defect needs but to be seen,
in a girl or a young lady, to spoil all her attractions. No matter how beautiful she is - this defect will be a black spot on her pretty face; no
matter how much she knows -her knowledge,
if it does not lead her to honor her parents,
only "puffeth up;" no matter how genteel she
may be in her behavior to others -the first step
in gentility is, respectful and obedient carriage
toward  parents.   True  gentility comes  from
gentleness of heart; but there can be no gentleness in that female heart which dishonors her
parents. No matter with how much elegance
and taste she may decorate her beautiful formthis defect will make her appear worse than the
most deformed person, clad in tattered garments
made up of dirty old shreds and patchesi Nor
will it be confined to childhood and youth;there is, perhaps, nothing that has a more important bearing upon the future character of
children and youth than their treatment of
their parents. God has set a mark upon it - a
35
i
i
lI
i 
DEFORMITY.
good one, upon filial piety, but the mark of
Cain upon filial imnpiety. This latter will stick
to you, like a deep, broad scar upon your pretty
face, or a permanent deformity in your naturally
fine form. But a quick perception of propriety,
in regard to the respect due to parents; with a
constant watchfulness to show attention, and to
anticipate their wants, will adorn a young lady,
in the view of all beholders, more than all the
finery, and jewels, and other ornaments, that can
be heaped upon her.  It will make her appear
more beautiful than the finest form that was ever
beheld, or the most comely countenance that was
ever reflected in a mirror.
36
_  I.
i!
ml:
I.
il'  
37
CHAPTER V.
TREATMENT OF BROTHERS AND SISTERS, AND
OTHERS IN THE FAMIILY.
THE happiness of a family depends very much
on  the conduct  of the daughters.   They  can
make home sweet and pleasant. If they are
sweet-tempered and amiable, kind and obliging,
they will always make it sunshine about them.
But, if they are peevish and fretful, selfish and
quarrelsome, they will make home as cold and
cheerless as a north-east storm. To make home
a pleasant, sunshiny place, the family must be
governed by the golden rule. If the daughters
govern themselves by it, they will be able to shed
about the fire-side an air of cheerfulness and
benignity, that will charm every one who comes
within the circle of its influence.
If you are the eldest sister, your situation in
the family is one of considerable importance and
responsibility. Your conduct and example will
have a great influence upon your younger brothers and sisters. But you must guard against
making too much of this distinction, and ex
i
I
I
ii
4 
ELDEST SISTER.
pectiig too much deference to be paid to you oni
account of it. You will be tempted to be overbearing and tyrannical in your demeanor toward  them.   You  must guard  against  this.
Your situation in the family, though it entitles
you to some deference and respect, yet does not
give you any authority; and therefore you must
maintain it by the arts of persuasion and kindness. All attempts to domineer over your younger brothers and sisters, will only lead them to
treat your pretensions with contempt.   But if
you speak kindly to them, and show yourself
ready to oblige them, and help them out of their
little difficulties, you will acquire an influence
over them that will be better than authority. It
is said that an elephant may be led by a single
hair; but I need not tell you how vain must
be any attempt to drive him. Be always good natured, gentle, and kind. Never speak in a
cross tone, nor with an assuming air, and never
command them. By such means, you will secure
their affectioias, which will bind them to you with
a silken cord. And, if you never lead them
astray, you will also secure their confidence, to
strengthen this cord.  Then you may lead them
by it at your pleasure.
If you are a younger sister, you must pay
some deference to your brothers and sisters older
'I 
I
I:
38
I
I
F,1
~l
i'1
I,
:'I
it 4. 
ANGELS OF PEACE.
than yourself   If you have an older brother,
always treat him respectfully and confidingly.
Endeavor to secure his affections and confidence,
so that he Will be your guide  and protector,
whenever you need. Be kind and gentle toward him, always yielding to his wishes, whenever you can do so with propriety; never setting
up your own will against his, for the sake of
having your own way; and be not particular
about your own rights. Never behave pettishly
toward him, nor find needless fault with him.
A sister's power over her brothers lies in her
gentleness and sweetness of temper. If you always show an amiable, sweet, loving disposition,
they will love you, and seek to gratify your
wishes. But, if you attempt to carry your point
by contention, they will shun you, as one who
only interferes with their enjoyment.
Make a friend and confidant of your eldest
sister. Consult her wishes, and yield to her,
when any difference arises between you.
And, in general, sisters should be angels of
mercy and peace in a family- gentle, kind,
affectionate, tender, and good-natured, toward
all. Make it an invariable rule never to contend; and if you see the beginning of strife,
always be the peace-maker- act the part of a
mediator, by offering your services to bring
39 
GENERAL BEHAVIOR.
about a good understanding between those that
are at variance. Never raise your voice so high
as to give it the appearance of harshness. Sup press the first risings of angry feeling, remem bering that "anger resteth in the bosom of fools."
Never speak unkindly to your brothers or sis ters; and if they speak unkindly to you, do not
suffer yourself to be irritated, and to answer
back in an angry tone, but show your superiority
by controlling your feelings. Be helpful to all
about you. If your little brother comes in cold,
or wet, or tired, assist him to a seat, take off his
outer garments, warm his hands, and make him
comfortable.  If your little sister is grieved, or
in trouble, do not speak harshly to her, or
reproach her for crying, but try to soothe her
feelings,  by  diverting  her  attention.   Never
teaze your brothers or sisters. You do not like
to be teazed; then do not teaze others. Be.
courteous.   Do not speak coarsely or roughly,
as ill-bred children do to each other; but be a
lady, and treat your brothers and sisters like little
gentlemen and ladies. Employ no coarse jokes
or vulgar jests. Be careful of their feelings.
Never do any thing, needlessly, to interfere with
their plans, to cross their feelings, or to hold
them up to the ridicule of others; and play no
tricks upon them.   Such things will diminish
40 
COMPLAINING OF EACH OTHER.
their affection, and they will seize the first opportunity to retaliate.  Be not fond of inform
ing against them. If they commit any great
offence against your parents' authority, it will be
your duty to inform them of it. But then you
should do it in a very careful manner, not exaggerating, or making it worse than it is, nor
speaking of it exultingly or harshly; but show,
by your manner, that you are really sorry for the
necessity you are under of performing a painful
duty. But, in matters of little consequence, it is
better for you to remonstrate kindly and tenderly
with them, but not to appeal to your parents.
If you do, it will occur so frequently that yqu
will get the settled ill-will of your brothers
and sisters. In some families, you can hear
little else, when all the children are at home,
but " Mother, James" -" Mother,  Mary" -
"Mother,  Thomas"  -" Mother,  Sarah" - a
perpetual string of complaints, that makes the
place more like a bedlam than a quiet, sweet
home. If your little brother comes along in a
pettish mood, and gives you a gentle slap, half
in earnest and half in fun, do not cry out,
"Mother, John's pounding me!" but take no
notice of it, and presently, when he gets better
natured, he will be sorry, and perhaps come of
his own accord and ask your pardon; or at least,
4*
41 
THE ONLY DAUGHTER.
show, by infallible signs, that he wants to make
friends with you.   But if youi bristle up, and
make a great ado about it, you will have trouble
enough. There is no sight more unlovely than
a quarrelsome family, -no place on earth more
undesirable than a family of brothers and
sisters, who are perpetually contending with
one another. But there is no place, this side
heaven, so sweet and attractive, as a family of
brothers and sisters always smiling and happy,
full of kindness and love, delighting in each
other's happiness, and striving how much each
can oblige the other.
But perhaps you are an only child. Then
you will not have some of the trials common to
youth. You will not have to strive against those
clashing interests and feelings which exist in a
large family of brothers and sisters. Your temper will not be put to such trials. But these
trials are necessary, in order to discipline the
heart, and to teach you the duties growing out
of the different relations in life; and you will
have them first to encounter abroad, when you
come in contact with other girls. You will be
greatly in danger of becoming selfish and consequential. Having no rivals in your parents' affections and attentions, you will naturally feel as
if you were a person of some consequence, and
42 
TREATMENT OF DOMESTICS.
will, very likely, set a higher value upon yourself than your companions will be willing to
acknowledge. Nothing is more liable to give
young persons false notions of their own superiority, than being brought up alone, with no
opportunity to contrast themselves, daily, with
others near their own age.
Be generous in your treatment of domestics.
Nothing appears more unlovely than to see a
pert little miss domineering over a woman who
is employed in doing the work of the house. It
is mean  and despicable.   Such persons have
many unpleasant duties to perform; and it should
be your aim to render their situation as agreeable and pleasant as possible. Never presume
to command them. This does not belong to you.
If you need their help, request it as a favor; but
never ask them to do any thing for you, which
you can do yourself. If you have every thing
done for you, it will make you helpless. It is
much better for you to learn to help yourself;
and women that do work in a family do not like
to wait on children who are able to wait on
themselves. Indeed, you ought to make it a
rule, never to ask any one to do that for you
which you can do yourself. If you make yourself dependent upon others, you will be troublesome wherever you go, and an unwelcome guest
43 
NEVER BE CROSS.
among your friends. But do not be very familiar with hired men or women, nor make them
your companions or confidants; for they may
lead you astray.
In conclusion, I will give you one littlefamily
rule. You may think it a very little one; but
it is able to do wonders. If you will try it one
week, and never deviate from it, I will promise
you the happiest week you ever enjoyed. And
more than this, you will diffuse such a sunshine
about you, as to make others happy also. My
little rule is this: NEVER BE CROSS.
44 
45
CHAPTER VI.
BEHAVIOR AT SCHOOL.
MOST of what I have said in the last two
chapters will apply to your behavior at school.
When you go to school, your teachers take the
place of your parents. To them, for the time
being, your parents have delegated their authority. You are bound, therefore, to give to them
the same reverence and obedience which are due
to your parents. To disobey, or to dishonor
them in any other way, is a breach of the fifth
commandment, which, in its spirit, requires subordination to lawful authority; or, as the Catechism says, "The fifth commandment requireth
the preserving the honor of, and performing the
duties belonging to, every one, in their several
places and relations, as superiors, inferiors, or
equals." You ought, therefore, in the first place,
to pay strict regard to every rule of the school,
as a religious duty; and obey your teacher, in all
things, with the same promptness and cheerfulness that you would obey your parents. You
should be too careful of your own reputation to
I 
HONORING TEACHERS.
permit yourself to be reprimanded by your teacher. If you take up the resolution that you will
be so diligent, faithful, and well-behaved, as never
to be reproved, you will find it a very wholesome restraint, to keep you within the bounds
of propriety. Be careful of the honor of your
teachers, remembering that, if you dishonor
them, you break God's holy commandment.
Never call in question their arrangements; and
never indulge feelings of dissatisfaction. Especially, never speak slightingly or disrespectfully
of them, nor of their ways. It does not become
you to call in question their arrangements, or
their mode of teaching. If you are wiser than
they, you had better not seek instruction from
them; but if not, then you should be satisfied
with the dictates of their superior wisdom. Never
attempt to question their proceedings, nor to
argue with them, when they require you to do
any thing. Be very careful, also, not to carry
home tales from school; because such a practice tends to cultivate a disposition to tattle,
and often leads to great mischief. Yet, when
your parents make inquiries, it is your duty to
answer them.
Be diligent in your studies, from principle, not
from a spirit of emulation. Remember that you
are placed at school for your own benefit. It
46 
DILIGENCE IN STUDY.
is not for your parents' advantage, nor for the
benefit of your teachers, that you are required to
study; but for your own good. Remember how
much pains your parents take, to give you this
opportunity. They give up your time, which
they have a right to employ for their own benefit, and they expend money for the support of
schools, that you may have the opportunity of obtaining useful learning. You are bound, therefore, to improve this opportunity with great diligence. You will not think it a task, that you
are compelled to study; but you will regard it
as a price* put into your hands to get wisdom.
It is all for your own benefit. In school hours,
therefore, you should put away all thoughts of
play, and all communication with other scholars,
and give yourself strictly and closely to your
studies.
But, I suppose you will find the most difficulty
in regulating your conduct during the intervals
of school hours, and on your way to and from
school. When a great many young persons of
your own age are together, there is a disposition
to throw off restraint. I would not have you under such restraint as to avoid all relaxation and
innocent hilarity; for these are necessary to keep
your mind and body in a healthful condition.
* Prov. xvii. 16.
47 
PLAYING WITHI BOYS.
But you must be careful to do nothing incon sistent with propriety- nothing out of character
for your sex. If you go to a school composed
of both sexes, as most of our country schools are,
it would be unbecoming in you to play with the
boys, or to associate with them, any further than
to engage in modest and sensible conversation,
which will be improving and profitable both to
them and to yourself. But the sports in which
boys usually engage are improper for your sex;
and for you to engage in rude, boisterous conversation and coarse jesting, such as ill-bred youth
are wont to practice, would be highly unbecoming. You ought to carry out the rules of good
breeding, in all your intercourse with your fellow-pupils.   Be  kind, courteous,  affable,  and
obliging toward all. Treat them as your brothers and sisters, except to maintain more reserve
than you do at home, especially towards those of
the other sex. You must not allow boys to be
too familiar; but be modest, and keep them at a
respectful distance. And if they are inclined to
be rude and unmannerly, have nothing at all to
say to them. Choose for your recreations, those
sports which are gentle and suited to your sex,
not rough and roisterous. Be especially careful
of your conduct on the way, to and from schooL
Make it a principle always to be at school in
48 
GENERAL BEHAVIOR
time; and never linger by the way, either going
or coming, for this will destroy your habits of
punctuality, and expose you to many bad influences. It is of the utmost consequence to be
punctual at school hours. All the affairs of the
school are deranged by tardiness; and you not
only suffer loss in your recitations, but in your
habits.
There is often much impropriety practised at
the intervals of school hours, and on the way
to and from school; and there is great danger
that thoughtless girls will lose their delicacy,
and have their principles undermined, before they
are aware of it. A man was at work in a shipyard, in company with other men, in the building of a vessel. He was preparing one of the
planks for the bottom of the ship. "There,"
said he to his comrades, "is a worm-hole," as
he planed off the rough outside of the plank.
The workmen examined it, but concluded the
hole was so small it could never do any injury.
The plank was put in the vessel. Some years
afterwards, as that ship was at sea, there came
up a violent storm, and the ship sprung a leak.
On examining the bottom, it was found that the
water had for a long time soaked into a wormhole, and rotted the wood for some distance
around, till now, in the time of trial, when the
5
49 
50      A WORM-HOLE IN A SHIP.
waves beat furiously against the ship, it had sud denly given way. The men on board made ev ery exertion to get her ashore, but were obliged
to abandon her, and she sunk to rise no more.
Many a girl has been ruined in consequence of
a very slight deviation from propriety, which has
led on to others of a more serious nature, till, at
length, her principles have been corrupted, and
in the hour of temptation they have given way,
and she has sunk to rise no more! A sad warning to others to watch against the beginnings of
evil.  It is the "little foxes," * as Solomon says,
that "spoil the vines." The old foxes eat the
grapes; but the little foxes, running on the tender parts of the vines, as they put forth to bud and
blossom, spoil them before the fruit grows. It is
thus that the character is corrupted and secretly
undermined, by little causes, in early life. When
a girl consents, in a single instance, to step beyond the bounds of propriety, she exposes herself to the most imminent danger of ruin. The
following rule, if adhered to, will save you from
a multitude of evils, while out of your parents'
sight:-ALWAYS  CONDUCT  AS  YOU WOULD  IF
YOU WERE UNDER THE EYE OF YOUR PARENTS,
AND  NEVER  FORGET  THE  ONE  EYE  THAT IS
ALWAYS UPON YOU.
* Cant. ii. 15. 
51
CHAPTER VII.
BEHAVIOR AT TABLE.
DID it ever occur to you to inquire why all
civilized people have their food prepared at particular hours, and all the family sit at table together? Why not have the food prepared, and
placed where every one can go and eat, whenever
he pleases, by himself? One great advantage of
having a whole family sit together, and partake of
their meals at the same time, is, that it brings
them together in a social way, every day. But
for this, and the assembling of the family at
prayers, they might not all meet at once for a
long time. But eating together is a mark of
friendship; and it tends to promote social feeling. In a well-regulated family, also, it is a
means of great improvement, both of mind and
manners.  It is, in fact, a school of good manners. You will perceive, then, how very important it is, that your behavior at table should
always be regulated by the rules of propriety.
If you acquire vulgar habits here, or practise
rudeness, you will find it difficult to overcome 
BEHAVIOR AT TABLE.
them; and they will make you appear to great
disadvantage.
I shall mention a few things to be observed,
at the table, by one who would maintain a character for good breeding.    And, first of all, be
not tardy in taking your place at the table. In
a well-regulated family, the master of the
family waits till all are seated before he asks a
blessing.   Suppose  there are five persons  at
the tabie, and you hinder them all by your tardiness three minutes, you  waste  fifteen minutes of precious time.   To  those who  set a
proper value upon time, this is a great evil.
There is no need of it; you may as easily be
at your seat in time as too late. When called
to a meal, never wait to finish what you are
doing, but promptly leave it, and proceed to
your place.   Above all, do not delay till after
the blessing, and so sit down to your food like
a heathen.
The table is a place for easy, cheerful, social
intercourse; but some children make it a place
of noisy clamor. The younger members of the
family should leave it for the parents (and guests,
if there are any,) to take the lead in conversation. It does not appear well for a very young
person to. be forward and talkative at table.
You  should generally wait till you are spoken
52 
TABLE TALK.
to; or, if you wish to make an inquiry or a
remark, do it in a modest, unassuming way, not
raising your voice, nor spinning out a story.
And be especially careful not to interrupt any
other person. Sensible people will get a very
unfavorable impression concerning you, if they
see you bold and talkative at table. Yet you
should never appear inattentive to what others
are saying. Be not so intent on discussing the
contents of your plate, as not to observe the
movements of others, or to hear their conversation. Show your interest in what is said by
occasional glances at the speaker, and by the
expression of your countenance; but be not too
anxious to put a word in yourself. Some children make themselves ridiculous, by always joining in, and making their remarks, when older
persons are speaking, often giving a grave opinion
of some matter about which they know nothing.
Be helpful to others, without staring at them,
or neglecting your own plate. You may keep
your eye on the movements around you, to pass
a cup and saucer, to notice if any one near you
needs helping, and to help any dish that is
within your reach. By so doing, you may greatly
relieve your father and mother, who must be very
busy, if they help all the family. By cultivating
a close observation, and studying to know and
5*
53 
STUDY PROPRIETY.
anticipate the wants of others, you will be able
to do these things in a genteel and graceful manner, without appearing obtrusive or forward.
Studypropriety. If asked what you will be
helped to, do not answer in an indefinite manner, saying, you "have no choice; " for this will
put the master of the house to the inconvenience
of choosing for you. Do not wait, after you are
asked, to determine what you will have, but answer promptly; and do not be particular in your
choice. To be very particular in the choice of
food is not agreeable to good breeding. Never
ask for what is not on the table. Do not make
remarks respecting the food; and avoid expressing your likes and dislikes of particular articles. One of your age should not appear to be
an epicure.  Show your praise of the food set before you, by the good nature and relish with
which you partake of it; but do not eat so fast
as to appear voracious. Never put on sour looks,
nor turn up your nose at your food. This is unmannerly, and a serious affront to the mistress of
the table. Be careful to use your knife and
fork as other people do, and to know when to
lay them down, and when to hold them in your
hands. Be careful not to drop your food, nor to
spill liquids on the cloth.   Do not leave the
table before the family withdraw from it, unless
54 
LITTLE THINGS.
it is necessary; and then, ask to be excused.
Neither linger to finish your meal, after you perceive the rest have done.
Besides what I have mentioned, there are a
great many nameless little things, that go to
make up good manners at table, which you must
learn by studying the rules of propriety, and
observing the behavior of others.
55 
56
CHAPTER VIII.
BEHAVIOR AT FAMILY WORSHIP.
ALL well-regulated Christian families are as
sembled, morning and evening, to worship God.
Seeing we are dependent on him for all things,
it is suitable and proper that we should daily
acknowledge our dependence, by asking him for
what we need, and thanking him for what we
receive. That we should do this as a family is
highly proper. But if it is our duty to worship
God as a family, it is the duty of every one in
particular. It is as much your duty as it is your
father's. You must, therefore, not only make it
a principle to be in your place punctually at the
time, but to enter heartily into all the exercises.
Some children and youth appear as if they had
no interest in what is going on, at this most interesting household service. But this is not only
showing great disrespect to your parents, but
great irreverence toward God. It will help you
to right feelings, on these occasions, if you imagine Christ Jesus present in person. God is
present spiritually, and in a peculiar manner, at 
FAMILY WORSHIP.
such times, to bless the families that call on his
name. When, therefore, the family are assembled for prayers, you should put away all vain
or wandering thoughts. When the time arrives,
and the family are assembled for devotion, seat
yourself, in a serious, reverent manner; and if
there should be a few moments' delay, do not
engage in conversation, nor in reading newspapers, or any. thing calculated to divert your
mind; but direct your thoughts upward to God,
and seek a preparation for his worship. Suffer
not your mind to be occupied with any thing but
the service before you. Let not your eyes wander about, to catch vagrant thoughts. Let not
your hands be occupied with any thing, to divert
your attention or to disturb others. Have your
Bible, and take your turn in reading. Be attentive and devout, during the reading of God's holy
word, endeavoring to apply it to your heart. If
the family sing, enter into this sweet service, not
only with your lips, but with your heart. When
prayer is offered, place yourself in the attitude
which is taken by your father and mother. If
they kneel, do you kneel also,- not sit, nor recline, but stand upon your knees, in a reverent
posture. Shut your eyes, and keep your heart.
Let your heart embrace the words of the prayer,
and make them your own. Remember that the
57 
FAMILY WORSHIP.
devotional habits you form at the family altar,
are the habits that will follow you to God's house,
and probably adhere to you through life. And
what can be more shocking than to see persons
pretending to gentility, who do not know how
to behave with propriety before the great God
that made them! If you were in company, and
should treat the person that invited you with as
much indifference as you treat God by such conduct, you would be considered a very ill-bred
person. He has invited you to come to his
mercy-seat to converse with him, and to receive
favors at his hand; and yet, by such conduct as
I have named, you show no interest at all in the
matter.
Family devotion, when rightly improved, is a
very important means of grace. If you attend
upon it seriously and reverently, you may hope
that God will bless it to your soul. It tends,
also, to tranquillize the feelings, and prepare
you to engage in the duties of the day with
serenity and cheerfulness.
58 
59
CHAPTER IX.
PRIVATE PRAYER.
I SUPPOSE, if my readers are the children of
pious parents, they have been taught from their
earliest recollection, to retire, morning and evening, to some secret place, to read their Bible
alone, and engage in private prayer.  This, in
very early childhood, is often an interesting and
affecting service. But when young people come
to a certain age, if their hearts are not renewed,
they are disposed to regard this as an irksome
duty, and gradually to leave it off. They find
the old adage, in the primer, true, -  "Praying
will make thee leave sinning, and sinning will
make thee leave praying."
It is a sad period, in the history of a young
person, when the early habit of prayer is given
up. Then the heart becomes like the garden
of the slothful, described by Solomon:  "I went by the field of the slothful, and by
the vineyard of the man void of understanding;
and lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and
nettles had covered the face thereof, and the
stone wall thereof was broken down." 
THE PRAYERLESS SOUL.
There are no good plants thriving in the
prayerless soul; but weeds, and briars, and
thorns, grow thick and rank, occupying every
vacant spot. The stone wall is broken down:
there is no defence against the beasts of the field.
Every vagrant thought, every vicious passion,
find free admittance.   The heart grows hard,
and the spirit careless. Sin is not dreaded as
it once was. The fear of God and the desire
of his favor are gone. "God is not in all his
thoughts." That youth stands on the very edge
of a frightful precipice.
I would not have you think, however, that
there is any merit in prayer; or that the prayers
of one whose "heart is not right with God" are
acceptable to him. But, what I say is, that every
one ought to pray to God with a right heart. If
your heart is not right with God, then it is wrong;
and you are to blame for having it wrong. I
will suppose a case, to illustrate what I mean.
You see a child rise up in the morning, and go
about the house; and though its mother is with
it all the time, yet the child neither speaks to her
nor seems to notice her at all. After a while,
the mother asks what is the matter, and why her
dear child does not speak to her? The child
says, "I have no heart to speak to you, mother. I do not love you; and so I think it would
60 
EXCUSES.
be wrong for me to speak to you." What would
you think of such conduct? You would say,
"The child ought to love its mother; and it
is only an aggravation of its offence, to carry
out the feelings of its heart in its conduct?"
"Would you then have it act the hypocrite, and
speak with its lips what it does not feel in its
heart?"   No;  but I would  have it love its
mother, as every dutiful child ought to do, and
then act out, in its speech and behavior, what it
feels in its heart. But I would never have it
excuse itself from right actions because its heart
is wrong.   Now, apply this to the subject of
prayer, and you will see the character of all impenitent excuses for neglecting this duty. And
those who go on and continue to neglect it, certainly have no reason to expect that their hearts
will grow any better by it, but only worse. But
in attempting to perform a sacred duty, the Lord
may give you grace to perform it aright, and
then you will have a new heart.
If possible, have a particular place of prayer,
where you can be secure from all interruption,
and particular times for it. At the appointed
hours, retire alone, and put away all thoughts
about your studies, your work, your amusements,
or any thing of a worldly nature, and try to realize that God is as truly present as if you saw
6
61 
HOW TO PRAY.
him with your bodily eyes.   Then  read his
word, as though you heard him speaking to you
in the sacred page;  and when your mind has
become serious and collected, kneel down and
acknowledge God as your Creator and Preserver,
your God and Redeemer; thank him for the
mercies you have received, mentioning particu.
larly every good thing you can think of, that you
have received from him; confess your sins; plead
for pardon, through the blood of Jesus Christ;
and ask him to give you such blessings as you
see and feel that you need. Pray also for your
friends, (and for your enemies, if you have any;)
and conclude with a prayer for the coming of
Christ's kingdom every where throughout the
world.
Some young people neglect to pray, because
they think they are not able to form their words
into prayer. But you need not be afraid to
speak to God. If you can find language to ask
your parents for what you desire, you can find
words to express your desires to God; and he
will not upbraid you for the imperfection of your
language. He looks at the heart. If that is
right, your prayer will be accepted.
Let me earnestly entreat you to have your set
times for prayer, at least as often as morning
and evening; and never suffer yourself to neglect
62 
BENEFITS OF PRAYER.
them.   And, especially, do not adopt the unseemly practice of saying your prayers in bed,
but give to God the brightest and best hours of
the day, and not offer to him the blind and the
lame for sacrifice.   You will find the regular
and stated habit of prayer, thus formed in early
life, of great value to you, as long as you live.
But let me once more caution you not to trust
in your prayers, for they cannot save you; and
do not think, because you are regular and habitual in attending to the outward forms of duty,
that you must be a Christian.
Prayer, if sincere and true, will prepare you
for engaging in the duties of the day, or
for enjoying calm repose at night. If, for any
cause, you neglect prayer in the morning,
you may expect things will go ill with you
all the day. You can do nothing well without God's blessing; and you cannot expect his
blessing without asking for it. You need, also,
that calm, tranquil, humble spirit which prayer
promotes, to prepare you to encounter those
things which are constantly occurring to try the
feelings, and to enable you to do any thing
well. Therefore, never engage in any thing of
importance without first seeking direction of
God; and never do any thing on which you
would be unwilling to ask His blessing.
63 
64
CHAPTER X.
KEEPING THE SABBATH.
SOME people esteem it a hardship to be compelled to keep the Sabbath. They think it an
interference with their liberties, that the state
should make laws to punish them for breaking it. This disposition very early shows itself
in children.   Often they think it is hard that
they are restrained from play, or from seeking
their pleasure, on the holy Sabbath. But God
did not give us the Sabbath for his own sake,
or because he is benefited by our keeping it.
The Bible says, "The Sabbath was made for
man." God gave us the Sabbath for our benefit,
and for two purposes. He has made us so that
we need rest one day in seven. It has been
proved, upon fair trial, that men cannot do as
much, nor preserve their health as well, by laboring seven days in a week, as they can by laboring six days, and resting one day in a week.
If there were no Sabbath, you would have no day
of rest   You would grow weary of school, if
you were obliged to attend and study seven days 
BENEFITS OF THE SABBATH.
in a week. If you are kept at home to works
you would soon tire out, if you had to labor
every day in the week. But, by resting every
seventh day, you get recruited, so that you are
able to go on with study or work with new vigor.
The Sabbath, in this respect, is then a great
blessing to you; and you ought to be so thankful to God for it, as to keep it strictly according
to his command.
Another object of the Sabbath is, to give all
people an opportunity to lay aside their worldly
cares and business, to worship God and learn
his will. The other design of the Sabbath was,
to benefit the body; this is, to bless the soul
If there were no Sabbath, people that are dependent upon others would be obliged to work
every day in the week; and they would have no
time to meet together for the worship of God.
And, if every one were allowed to choose his
own time for worshipping God, there would be
no agreement. One would be at meeting, another would be at work, and others would be seeking their pleasure. But, in order to have every
one at liberty to worship God without disturbance, he has set apart one day in seven for this
purpose. On this day, he requires us'to rest
from all labor and recreation, and spend its sacred hours in learning his will, and in acts of
65
6 * 
66   THE SABBATH BENEFITS THE SOUL.
devotion. The Sabbath thus becomes a means
of improving the mind  and the heart.  It fur nishes the best opportunity for social improve ment that could be devised. It brings the people
together, in their best attire, to exercise their
minds in understanding divine truth, and their
hearts in obeying it. And the same object, and
the same spirit, it carries out in the family. If,
therefore, you ever consider the duties of the
holy Sabbath irksome and unpleasant, or feel
uneasy under its restraints, you perceive that you
must be very unreasonable, since they are designed for your good. You will not, then, find
fault with me, if I am rigid in requiring the strict
observance of the Sabbath. One thing I would
have  you  remember, -  If you  would receive
thefull benefit of the holy Sabbath, you must
form right habits of keeping it, early in life.
To give it full power over the mind, it must be
associated, in our earliest recollections, with order,
quiet, stillness, and solemnity. If you are in the
habit of disregarding it in early life, you lose all
the benefit and enjoyment to be derived from
these sacred associations.
The best directions for keeping the Sabbath,
any where to be found, are contained in the
thirteenth verse of the fifty-eighth chapter of
Isaiah   - " If thou turn away thy foot from the 
HOW TO KEEP THE SABBATH.
Sabbath, from doing thy pleasure on my holy
day, and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of
the Lord, honorable; and shalt honor him, not
doing thine own ways, nor finding thine own
pleasure, nor speaking thine own words -" You
must turn away your foot from the Sabbath, not
trampling on it by doing your own pleasure, instead of the pleasure of the Lord. Your foot
must not move to perform any act that is contrary to the design of this sacred day; and especially, must not go after your own pleasure.
You must not do your own ways, nor find your
own pleasure.  These things may be lawful on
other days; but on this day, every thing must
have reference to God. You must not even
speak your own words. Worldly, vain, light, or
trifling conversation is thus forbidden.   And,
if you may not speak your own words, you may
not think your own thoughts. Worldly, vain,
trifling thoughts, or thoughts of your pleasure, are
not lawful on God's holy day. But you must not
only refrain from these things; the Sabbath is
not properly kept, unless its sacred services are
a delight to the soul. If you are tired of hear
Ing, reading, and thinking of the things of another
world, you do not keep  the Sabbath according
to these directions. To one who enters truly
into the spirit of God's holy day, it is the most
67 
PREPARATION.
delightful of the seven. You remember, in the
memoir of Phebe Bartlett, it is stated that she
so loved the Slabbath that she would long to have
it come, and count the days intervening before it.
Such are the feelings of all who love God and
sacred things.
Having made these general remarks, I will
give you a few simple directions for making the
Sabbath both profitable and delightful.   The
evening before the Sabbath, do every thing that
can be done, to save doing on the Sabbath.
Leave nothing to be done in God's time that
you can do in your own time. Lay out your
Sabbath day's clothing, and see that it is all in
order, that you may have no brushing or mending to be done Sabbath morning. Rise early
in the morning, and, while washing and dressing,
which vou will do 4n as little time as possible,
think of your need of the "washing of regener
ation and renewing of the Holy Ghost," and of
being clothed in the clean, white robe of Christ's
righteousness. Then offer up your thanksgiving
to God for his mercy in preserving your life, and
giving you another holy Sabbath, and pray for
his presence and blessing through the day. If
you are called by your father or mother, for any
service of the family, go to it cheerfully; and
as soon as you can retire again, read a portion
68 
GOING TO MEETING.
of Scripture, and pray to God for such particular
blessings upon yourself as you feel your need of,
and for his blessing upon others on his holy day.
If you attend the Sabbath school, you will need
to look over your lesson for the day, and endeavor to apply it to your own heart; for I suppose you do not put off the study of your lesson
till Sabbath morning.
Never stay at home on the Sabbath, unless you
are necessarily detained. Make it a matter of
principle and calculation always to be there.
On your way to the house of God, do not engage in any unnecessary conversation, especially
that which is vain, light, or trifling, to divert
your mind, and unfit you for the worship of God.
Do not stand about the doors of the meetinghouse, to salute your friends, or to converse with
your young companions. This practice, I am
sorry to say, prevails in the country, among
young people of both sexes, to the great annoyance of well-bred people. It is a great temptation
to conversation improper for the Sabbath. It is
very unpleasant for people who are passing, to
have the way blocked up, so as to have to press
through a crowd.   Neither do people like to
be stared at, by a company of rude young people,
as they pass into the house of God. I am sorry
to admit, also, that this unmannerly practice is
69 
70    BEHAVIOR IN THE HOUSE OF GOD
not confined to youth; but that many elderly
people set the example. Instead of doing so,
go directly to your seat, in a quiet, reverent man ner; and if any time intervenes before the com mencement of public worship, do not spend it
in gazing about the house, to observe the dress
of different persons; but take the opportunity
to compose your mind, to call in all vagrant
thoughts, to get your heart impressed with a
sense of God's presence, and to lift up your
soul in silent prayer for his blessing.   Or, if
the time be long, you can employ a part of it in
reading the Bible, or devotional hymns. But
do not carry any other book to the house of
worship to be read there. If you have a Sabbath school library book, it will be better not to
read it at such a time, because you will be likely
to get your mind filled with it, so as to interfere
with  the services of the sanctuary.   But the
bible and hymn book, being of a devotional
character, will tend to prepare your mind for
worship. Above all, do not read a newspaper,
of any kind, at such a time.  Even a religious
newspaper would tend to divert your mind from
that serious, tender, devout frame, which you
ought to possess when you engage in the solemn
public worship of the Great Jehovah. But I have
often witnessed more serious improprieties, in 
PUBLIC WORSHIP
the house of God, than any of these. I have seen
young people whispering and laughing during
the sermon; and it is a very common thing to
see them gazing about during the singing, as
though they had nothing to do with the service.
I have also seen them engaged in reading, in the
time of sermon, or of singing. Some, also, are
seen, in time of prayer, with their eyes wide open,
gazing about.  Such conduct would be very unmannerly, if nobody were concerned but the
minister; for it is treating him as though he were
not worthy of your attention. But when it is
considered that he speaks to you in the name of
God, and that, in prayer, while you stand up
with the congregation, you profess to join in the
prayer; and while the hymn is sung, you profess to exercise the devout feeling which it
expresses,- when all these things are considered,
such conduct as that I have described appears
impious in a high degree.
Instead of being guilty of such improprieties,
you will endeavor, from the heart, to join in the
sentiments expressed in prayer and praise; and
listen to the sermon with all attention, as a message sent from God to you. You must not think
that the sermon is designed for older people,
and therefore you have nothing to do with it;
nor take up the notion that sermons are too
71 
HOW  TO HEAR.
dry and uninteresting to engage your attention.
The minister speaks to you, in the name of God,
those great truths which concern the salvation
of the soul.  Can they be of no interest to you?
Have you not a soul to be saved or lost? Nor
need you think that you cannot understand the
sermon. If you give your attention, you can
understand a sermon as well as you can understand the lessons you are required every day to
study at school. If you do not understand preaching, it is because you do not give your mind to
it, and hear with attention. Your mind is here
and there, "walking to and fro in the earth, and
going up and down in it;" and you only catch,
here and there, a sentence of the sermon. This
is the reason you do not understand it. Endeavor to examine your heart and life by what you
hear, and to apply it to yourself in such a way
as to be benefitted by it. And, when you leave
the house of God, do not immediately engage
in conversation, and by this means dissipate all
impression; but, as far as possible, go home in
silence, and retire to your closet, to seek the
blessing of God upon the services of his house,
on which you have attended.
I suppose, of course, that you attend the Sabbath school.   I think it a great advantage to
those who rightly improve it. But, like every
.72 
SABBATH SCHooL.
o)ther privilege, it may be so neglected or abused
as to be of no benefit. If you pay no attention
to the Sabbath school lesson at home, your mere
attendance upon the recitation at school will do
you little good. You will feel little interest, and
receive little profit. But, if you make it the
occasion for the faithful study of the Holy Scriptures at home, to ascertain their meaning, and
to become acquainted with the great truths of
Christianity, it will be of great service to you
in forming your Christian character.
Having well and thoroughly studied your Sabbath school lesson, you will then be prepared to
engage in the recitation with interest. In the
Sabbath school, you will observe the same general directions for propriety of behavior as in
public worship. You are to remember that it is
the holy Sabbath, and that the Sabbath school
is a religious meeting.  All lightness of manner
is out of place. A serious deportment is necessary, if you would profit by it. Courtesy to
your teacher, and to the school, also requires that
you should give your attention, and not be conversing or reading during the recitation, or
while your teacher is speaking to you. In an swerinig the questions, you should be full and
explicit; not merely making the briefest possible
reply, but entering into the subject with interest.
7
73 
SABBATH NOON.
But be careful that you do not give indulgence
to a self-confident, conceited spirit, nor appear as
if you thought yourself wiser than your teacher.
Such a spirit indulged will have an injurious influence in the formation of your character, and
will make you an object of disgust to sensible
people.
Some young people, when a little past the
period of childhood, begin to feel as if they were
too old to attend the Sabbath school, and so
gradually absent themselves, and finally leave it
altogether. This arises from a mistaken notion
as to the design of the Sabbath school. It is
not a school for children merely; but a school
for all classes of people, to engage in the study
of the most wonderful book in the world. I
hlope you will never think of leaving the Sabbath
school, as long as you are able to attend it. If
you do, you will suffer a loss which you will
regret as long as you live.
If you remain at the house of worship between
the Sabbath school and the afternoon service,
as many do in the country, you will be exposed to temptations to profane the Sabbath.
To prevent this, avoid meeting with your companions, in  groups, for conversation.   However well-disposed you may be, you can hardly
avoid being drawn into conversation unsuitable
74 
STUDYING THE LESSON.
for the holy Sabbath. If you take a book
from the Sabbath school library, this will be
a suitable time to read it, if you are careful not
to extend the reading into the afternoon service, or suffer your thoughts to be diverted by
what you have read. But the practice of reading the Sabbath school books during divine
service, which prevails among children, and
even with some young men and women, is not
only very irreverent, but a gross violation of
good breeding.   It is slighting the service of
God, and treating the minister as though they
thought what he has to say to them not worth
their attention.
You ought to have a particular time set apart
for the study of your Sabbath school lesson. I
should prefer that this be taken during the week,
so as not to task your mind too severely on the
Sabbath with study, inasmuch as it is a day of
rest.  But, if you cannot do this, I should advise
that you study it Sabbath afternoon, and review
it the next Sabbath morning.
Some portion of the Sabbath afternoon, or
evening, you will employ, under the direction of
your parents, in repeating the Catechism, which,
I hope no of my readers will consider beneath
their attention.  "The Shorter Catechism," next
to the Bible, I regard as the best book in exist
75 
76       LEARNING THE CATECHISM.
ence to lay the foundation of a strong and solid
religious character.   If you get it thoroughly
committed to memory, so as to be able to repeat
it verbatim from beginning to end, you will never
regret it; but, as long as you live, you will have
occasion to rejoice in it.  I cannot now give
you any adequate idea of the benefit you will
derive from it. These catechetical exercises in
your father's house will be associated, in your
mind, with the most precious recollections of
your early years. As I said with regard to your
Sabbath school lessons, and for the same reason,
I should advise you, if possible, to study the portion of the Catechism to be recited, during the
week. But if you cannot do so, it should be
studied on the afternoon or evening of the Sab,
bath. If, however, you study these lessons in
the week time, you will be able to spend the
afternoon and evening of the Sabbath, except
what is devoted to family worship and repeating
the Catechism, in reading serious and devotional
books, which will not tax your mind so much,
If you are engaged in study all the week, your
mind will need rest. Therefore, I would have
you prosecute your religious study during the
week, and let your mind be taxed less on the
Sabbath, reading such books and engaging in
such services as are calculated more to affect 
REVIEW OF THE DAY.
the heart, than to tax the mind. You ought
to spend more time than usual, on God's holy
day, in your closet, in reading the Scriptures
and prayer. But, besides the Bible, I would
particularly recommend Religious Biographies,
and such works as Bunyan's "Pilgrim's Progress"  and "Holy War,"  D'Aubigne's "History of the Reformation,"  &c.   But secular
history, or any books or papers of a secular
character, should not be read on the holy Sabbath.   In general, you  may  safely  read, on
Sabbath afternoon, the books that you find in
the Sabbath school library; though it will sometimes happen that a book creeps into the library
that is not suitable for this sacred day. A portion of the evening of the Sabbath, before retiring to rest, should be spent in reviewing the day,
recollecting the sermons, examining how you
have kept the lay, -and seeking in prayer the
pardon of what has been amiss, and God's blessing on all the services in which you have been
engaged.
A Sabbath thus spent will be a blessing to
you, not only for the six days following, but as
long as you live. It will contribute to the formation of religious habits that you will be thankful for to the day of your death. And when you
become accustomed to spending your Sabbaths
7*
71 
SABBATH DELIGHTFUL
thus, so far from finding them long and tedious
days, you will find them the most delightful of
the seven, and will only regret that they are TOO
SHORT -they come to an end before you have
finished all the good designs you have formed.
The fact that God has set apart a day to himself, and commanded us to keep it holy, would
naturally lead us to conclude that he would order
his Providence so as to favor its observance. We
have only need to examine the subject to be convinced that he does so. When his ancient people, the children of Israel, refused to keep his
Sabbaths, and trampled his holy day under foot,
he emptied them out of the land, and caused
them to be carried off into a strange country, and
to remain there seventy years. This was threatened in Leviticus xxvi. 34, 35: - " Then shall
the land enjoy her Sabbaths, as long as it lieth
desolate, and ye be in your enemies' land; even
then shall the land rest, and enjoy her Sabbaths.
As long as it lieth desolate, it shall rest; because
it did not rest in your Sabbaths, when ye dwelt
upon it." In 2 Ch. xxxvi. 20, 21, this is referred
to as one of the principal reasons why they were
carried away to Babylon:-" And them that
escaped the sword carried he away to Babylon;
where they were servants to him and his sons,
until the reign of the kingdom of Persia, to fulfil
78 
THOSE BLEST WHO KEEP THE SABBATH. 79
the word of the Lord by the mouth of Jeremiah
the prophet, until the land had enjoyed her Sabbaths; for as long as she lay desolate, she kept
Sabbath, to fulfil threescore and ten years."
I can think of no reason why God, in his holy
Providence, should not punish Sabbath-breakers
now as well as then. I have no doubt that he
does. If we could see the design of his Providence, as it is explained in the Bible, no one
would doubt it. Sir Matthew Hale, after a long
and laborious public life, declared, as the result
of his experience, that he found his affairs prosper, during the week, just in proportion to the
strictness with which he had observed the Sabbath; and that he had never met with success in
any business which was planned on the Sabbath.
I might fill this book with narratives of accidents that have happened to young people,
while seeking their pleasure on the Lord's day.
Scarcely a week occurs, in the summer season,
but the papers contain accounts of patties of
young people drowned while taking Sabbath excursions on the water, or of young men and
boys drowned while bathing on the Lord's day.
Many very striking accounts of this kind have
been collected and published in tracts. And a
great many facts of a more general nature have
also been published, in various forms, showing 
80      SABBATH-BREAKERS PUNISHED.
that it is proftable to keep the Sabbath, and unprofitable and dangerous to break it.  My object, in this place, is simply to impress on the
minds of my readers the very important influ ence which the proper observance of the Sabbath has in the formation of character. And I
wish them to follow the youth through life who
has been accustomed to keep the Sabbath, and
who continues to keep it; and then follow the
course of one who has, in early life, been accustomed to disregard God's holy day. And one
thought, in particular, I desire you to ponder
well, - The Sabbath-breaker cannot expect God's
protection. And, if God forsakes you, what will
Decome of you?
A party of young people set out for a sail, on
the Sabbath day. One of the young ladies told
her brother that she felt very bad to think she
was breaking the Sabbath, and she must return
home.   But he entreated her not to spoil his
pleasure, for he should not enjoy it, unless she
went with him; and to please him she consented
to go. The boat was upset, and she was drowned. The distracted brother now gave vent to his
grief in the most bitter lamentation.  He had
been the means of her death.   There he stood,
wringing his hands in agony, and exclaiming,
"0! what shall I do!  How  can I see my  father's face!"
!t 
A MELANCHOLY EXAMPLE.
Some years ago, a young lady in New York
went out on Sabbath morning, as her mother
supposed, to go to meeting. Indeed, I believe
she told her mother that she was going to
church. I think it most likely, from the story
as it appeared in the papers at the time, that she
started with the intention of going to the house
of God. She was seen on the sidewalk, speaking with a young man. It was not known what
conversation passed between them; but it was
supposed, from what followed, that he was an acquaintance of hers, and was inviting her to an
excursion to Hoboken, a place of great resort
for pleasure near New York, on the opposite
side of the river. Very little is known of the
manner in which she spent the day. Probably,
they first had a sail for pleasure on the river, and
afterwards promenaded the beautiful walks and
delightful groves of Hoboken. She was seen, in
the afternoon, in company with some young men,
at a public house of low character at Hoboken.
Her body was found, the next day, at some distance from the house. She had been shamefully
abused and murdered.
This melancholy case affords a striking illus tration of the single point that I desire strongly
to impress on your mind, - GOD WILL NOT PRO TICT THE SABBATH-BREAKER.  When we tram
81 
82         DANGEROUS ASSOCIATES.
ple on his holy day, he leaves us to ourselves.
And what can we do without his protection? If
he forsakes us, who can save us from destruction? This case shows, also, the great danger
to which girls or young ladies expose themselves,
when they smother the voice of conscience, and
consent to go, with a company of Sabbath-breakers, in pursuit of pleasure, on God's holy day.
The young man, who has so hardened his heart
as openly to trample on the fourth commandment,
will not scruple to violate any other of God's
commands, when temptation and opportunity
present themselves. It was so in this case. The
young men in whose company this young
lady intrusted herself were a band of Sabbathbreakers. You see what they did in the end.
If you consent to put yourself in the power of
boys or young men who will violate the Sabbath,
and put yourself out of God's protection, by violating it yourself, you cannot expect any better
result. 
83
CHAPTER XI.
HABITS.
BESIDES what I have noticed in several of the
foregoing chapters, there are many things of a
general nature, which I shall group together
under the title of habits. A habit is what has
become easy and natural by frequent repetition.
People not unfrequently become much attached
to practices, which at first were very unpleasant.
You will sometimes see men chewing, smoking,
or snuffing tobacco, a most filthy and poisonous
plant, a little bit of which you could not be persuaded to take into your mouth, it is so nauseous; yet, by long use, people learn to love it.
That is a habit. So, likewise, you see persons
very fond of drinking intoxicating liquors, which
to you would be a nauseous medicine;. and
which are poisonous and destructive to all. It
is practice which has made these drinks so pleasant. This is a habit.
Habits are both bad and good; and a habit
is a very good or a very bad thing, as it is good
or bad. Habits are mostly formed in early life;
and a habit, once formed, is difficult to be
broken;- once fixed, it may follow you as long
as you live. 
TARDINESS.
I shall specify a few of the bad habits which
girls of your age sometimes contract, with their
opposite good habits. It is very likely I shall
fail to notice many others, equally important;
but these may put you upon thinking, and lead
you to discover and correct other bad practices.
I. DILATORINESS, or TARDINESS. -The tardy
girl is dilatory about rising in the morning.
Although old Chanticleer is pouring his shrill
note of warning into her ear, and the birds are
filling the air with their merry song, and the
morning rays of the sun are peeping stealthily
through the half-closed shutter, still she thinks,
"There's time enough yet; " and, instead of starting up with the lark, she lingers and delays.
She rises in a yawning mood, and slowly and
tardily proceeds to adjust her dress, lingering
with every article, perhaps stopping to view it
in some point which she had not noticed before;
or she casts her eye on a piece of an old newspaper, and stops to read that; or her attention is
attracted by something on the wall; she stands
a long time at the glass, fixing her hair, or adjusting her curls; and thus the time is frittered
away, till the breakfast bell rings, and she is not
ready. Her mother and the hired girl have been
up an hour and a half; and perhaps she has
been called three or four times, and as often
84 
TARDINESS.
answered, " Well, I'm coming."  At length she
makes her appearance at the table after the bless
ing, when the rest of the family have begun their
meal. Or, if she gets dressed before breakfast
time, she is not in season to render the assistance
to her mother which she needs, or to complete
the lesson, which, through her tardiness, she left
unfinished the evening before. She hears the
bell, but she is just now engaged, and thinks
" There's time enough yet, -  I'lljust fnish what
I've begun;" and so she is not in season at the
table. She has either detained the table till all
are impatient of waiting, or else she takes her
seat after the rest have commenced eating. But
she is so dilatory in preparing her food, that she
is hardly ready to begin till the rest have half
finished their meal.  She is left at the table to
finish her breakfast, and her seat is for some time
vacant at prayers, when she comes in and disturbs the whole family. This dilatoriness goes
on, till the school hour arrives, and she is not
ready. At five or ten minutes past nine, she
seizes her satchel, and hastens to school, where
she arrives, out of breath, just after her class has
recited. On Sabbath morning, when the bell
tolls and the family start for meeting, they are
detained at the door to wait for her; she has
neglected to find her muff, her gloves, or her
8
85 
TARDINESS.
Sabbath school book, and she must stop and
look it up. Thus it is in all things. When
her mother calls her, instead of promptly coming
to her assistance, it is, " Yes, in a minute," or,
"Yes, I'm going to."   She must dispose of
something else first.   She does not seem to
know how to start quick. She is always in a
hurry when the time comes to do any thing,
because she was dilatory in making preparation
when she had time.  She is always  late,-always out of time,- vexing those that are about
her, and injuring herself She always seems to
have started too late. You would think she began too late in the beginning, -that she was
born too late, and so always keeps behindhand.
Every thing comes too soon, before she is prepared for it. She will probably keep her wedding party waiting half an hour after the time
set, before she will be ready for the ceremony.
It is greatly to be feared that she will carry this
dilatory habit into religion, and that death will
overtake her before she is ready.
Although all this seems natural to her, yet it
is only tardiness indulged till it has grown into
a habit. It has become a sort of second nature.
But by resolution, diligence, and perseverance,
the habit may be broken.
The opposites of this are the good habits of
86 
PUNCTUALITY.
PROMPTNESS AND PUINCTUALITY. The prompt
girl will rise with the lark in the morning. When
the gray dawn steals in at her window, she
springs from her bed, and in a very few minutes,
she is dressed, and prepared to make her appearance in the family, to assist her mother, if necessary, or, if not needed there, to go to her
devotions and her study. She has done, perhaps, in fifteen or twenty minutes, what the dilatory girl would be an hour and a half in doing,
and done it equally well. She is always in time.
Her promptness enables her to be punctual.
She never keeps the table waiting for her, and
never comes after the blessing. She is never
late at prayers -never late at school -never late
at meeting; and yet she is never in a hurry.
She redeems so much time by her promptness,
that she has as much as she needs to do every
thing well and in time. She saves all the time
that the dilatory spends in sauntering, in considering what to do next, in reading frivolous
matters, and in gazing idly at vacancy. Do you
desire to possess these good habits? Only carry
out the idea I have given of promptness one
day, and then repeat it every day, and in a little
time you have the habit established.
II. UNTIDINESS. -An untidy girl leaves her
things scattered about her room. She never has
87 
UNTIDINESS.
a place for any thing; or if she has, she does
not keep any thing in it. She leaves a thing
where she uses it. Her room is all confusion.
If she wants any thing, she never knows where
it is, but must hunt till she finds it, which costs
her a great deal more precious time than it
would have done to have put it in its proper
place. If she goes into another person's room,
whatever article she lays her hand upon is mis placed.   She never thinks of putting it where
she found it; but either throws it carelessly
down, or puts it in the wrong place. If she goes
to the library, and takes down a book, she
either puts it up in a different place, and thus
disarranges the shelves, or she lays it down on
the shelf in front of other books, for her father
or mother to arrange. If she carries a book from
the library to read, she leaves it wherever she
happens to be when she stops reading; and, perhaps, lays it down open upon its face, soiling its
leaves, and straining it out of shape. And the
next time she comes that way, if she happens to
want to open the window, she will take the same
book, without any regard to its value, and put it
under the window. By this time, she has let it
fall half a dozen times on the floor, bruising its
nice binding, and loosening the leaves. And all
the while she is reading, her fingers are busily
88 
UNTIDINESS.
employed in crumpling the leaves. Thus, by
the time the book gets back to the library, it is
in a worse condition than it would have been in
two years with careful handling. Her school
books are torn and dirty; disfigured with pencil
marks, blots of ink, grease spots, finger prints,
and dog's-ears; and if she borrows a book from
the library, or of a friend, it is returned with some
of these her marks upon it.
If she goes into the kitchen, she is sure to
put the tidy housekeeper in a passion, for whatever she lays her hand upon is out of place. Nor
does her own person appear to any better advantage. Her dress is adjusted in bad taste; it
seems to hang out of shape. You would say her
garments were flung upon her; and you feel an
involuntary anxiety lest they should fall off. You
do not perceive precisely what is the matter, but
there is an evident want of neatness and taste.
Her hair wears the same air of negligence; her
face often discovers the lack of soap, and her
finger nails want attention.
* These are only a few examples of the effects
of untidy habits.   When untidiness becomes a
habit, it runs through every thing. And the un tidy girl will make an untidy woman; and the
untidy woman will make an untidy house; and
an untidy house will spoil a good husband. A
8*
89 
CARELESSNESS.
man of taste cannot enjoy himself where every
thing is out of order; and he will seek that
pleasure abroad which he finds not at home.
The twin sister of untidiness is CARELESSNESS.
The careless girl is always unfortunate. If she
goes into the kitchen, to assist about the work,
she splashes water on the wall, drops oil on the
floor, spills fat in the fire, scorches her clothes,
burns her biscuit, breaks the crockery, or cuts
her fingers with the carving-knife.
If directed to sweep the family room, she
oversets a lamp, or brushes off a table cover, and
sends Bibles and hymn-books sprawling on the
floor; or if passing through the parlor, she
swings her dress against the centre-table, and
brushes off the costly books, bruising their fancy
binding,  and soiling their gilt edges.   Every
where she goes, something is found in ruins.
The trouble is, she does not think, -she does
not observe; or else her thoughts and observation are on something besides what is before her.
She does not mind what she is doing. She does
not look to see what she steps on, nor whether
her hands have firm hold of the article which
she takes up. If she passes through a door, she
does not mind whether it was open or shut; and
most likely, if she finds it open in a warm summer's day, she will close it; but if she finds it
90 
A RULE.
carefully shut on a freezing day in midwinter,
she will leave it wide open.
I need not tell you what are the opposites of
these habits. The careful and tidy girl has an
invariable rule, that saves her a deal of trouble," A PLACE FOR EVERY THING, AND EVERY THING
IN ITS PLACE." Go into her room at any time,
and you will find every thing in order. She can
go in the dark, and lay her hand on any article
she wants; and hence, she never adds to her
mother's anxiety, by taking a light to her bedroom. She is so much in the habit of putting
things in their proper place, that she never thinks
of leaving them any where else. She never
leaves a thing at random where she happens to
be using it, but always puts it where it belongs.
When she undresses, every article of her clothing is folded, and laid together in the order
that she will want to take it up in the morning;
so that she loses no time in hunting for it.
Her dress is adjusted with neatness and taste,
every article being in the right place, every button, every hook, every string, every pin, doing its
appropriate work, and nothing left loose and
dangling, nor hanging in a one-sided manner.
To whatever part of the house she goes, she
leaves it in the order in which she found it; for
it is her invariable rule, when she uses any thing
91 
THOUGHTFULNESS.
belonging to another's department, to replace it
exactly as she found it. And when she takes
hold of a cup of water, a lamp, or an article of
crockery, she is careful to get fairly hold, and
then to move moderately, and not with a flirt;
and by this means, she seldom spills any liquid
or breaks any crockery. If she goes to the
library, she is careful to replace every book or
paper she takes in her hand, exactly as she found
it. If she takes a book to read, she carries it
with care, firmly grasped in her hand, and
avoids letting it fall, or hitting it against any
thing to bruise the cover. She holds it in such
a manner as not to strain the back, nor crumple
the leaves; and if called away from her reading,
she puts in a mark, shuts it up, and lays it in a
safe place. She would as soon think of using a
silver spoon as a book, to put under a window.
And when she has finished reading it, she care.
fully replaces it in the library, jusf where she
found it. She does not place it wrong end upwards, nor the title towards the back of the
shelf; but puts it in the place where it belongs,
makes it stand straight, and shoves it back even
with its fellows. All her school books are kept
in a neat and tidy manner. No blots of ink,
nor pencil marks, nor thumb prints, nor dog'sears, any where appear. If she passes through a
92 
NOISINESS.
door, into or out of a room where other persons
are sitting, she leaves it open or shut, as she
found it, judging that the persons occupying the
room have adjusted its temperature to their own
liking. The great difference between her and
the careless girl is, that she has her thoughts
about her, while the other never thinks.   "I
did'nt think," is the careless girl's excuse; and
that excuse is worse than the careless act itself.
III. There is another very uncomfortable habit, which, for the want of a better name, I shall
call NOISINESS. It is made up of talkativeness,
loud laughing, humming patches of song-tunes,
and in general, a noisy, bustling activity.  Talkativeness itself is a very bad habit for a little girl
or a young lady. It is a good thing to be sociable; and to converse freely and affably at the
proper time, and in the proper place. But there
is as much difference between this and talkativeness, as there is between the quiet, purling
stream, and the noisy, babbling brook.  "The
tongue  of the wise,"  says Solomon,  "useth
knowledge aright; but the mouth of fools poureth out foolishness." In the margin it reads,
belcheth, or bubbleth. The thoughts of the heart
come belching out like water from a bottle,
without regard to sense, order, or arrangement,
as though the chief object of the tongue were to
93 
TALKATIVENESS.
make a noise. And one that is always babbling
must needs talk nonsense, for want of something
sensible to say. A talkative girl will tell all she
knows, and all she can remember that she has
ever heard any body say, to every one she meets.
She will take up the time and occupy the attention of others, in relating long, humdrum stories
about matters and things which nobody cares to
hear. You wait with impatience to hear the
end of her story, that you may have a little quiet;
but her tongue never stops, but, like the clapper
of a mill, keeps up its incessant clack. Such a
habit is very disagreeable to others, and makes
one appear to great disadvantage.   It leads to
the constant violation of the principles of good
breeding.   No  one, especially a young lady,
who understands what belongs to good manners,
will presume on her own importance enough to
suppose that others will be pleased to hear her
talk and noise all the time. And no well-bred
person will think of obliging others to listen to
her against their will. In listening to the talkative girl, I have often felt an involuntary apprehension for the little member, which is obliged to
perform so much labor. It must be made of
stern stuff, or it would wear out, or, at least,
grow weary.   It is a wonder that it does not
take fire from mere friction.  It is necessary
94 
QUIETNESS.
occasionally, to stop a mill, to let it cool; but
the tongues of some people run incessantly and
yet seem to suffer no injury.
But noise is' not always confined to the tongue.
There is a noisy way of doing things, which
makes one think that the girl wants to attract
notice. We would not be so uncharitable; for
we always like to think well of others, and of
none more so than a sprightly, active girl. But
the thought comes unbidden, when we see one
moving about the house, with a noisy step and
a wide sweep, making the concussion of the
atmosphere itself announce her approach. And
we feel an involuntary sense of incongruity,
when we see a noisy, bold girl, - it is so contrary
to the model which we have formed in our
minds of the female character.
The opposite of this habit is QUIETNESS.  The
quiet girl moves about the house with a modest
air, and a gentle step, as if fearful always of disturbing others. She involuntarily shrinks from
the gaze of others; and, therefore, she does as
little as possible to attract notice. She has, indeed, a tongue; but she values it too highly to
keep it constantly running.   Her silence does
not run into a prudish reserve. She speaks with
grace when spoken to, or when her sense of propriety sees a fitting occasion. But she never
95 
RUDENESS.
speaks for the mere sake of talking, nor unless
she has something to say. She is especially
careful not to incommode others by her talk, nor
to presume on entertaining them with mere tittletattle. She loves to sing; but she remembers
that humming shreds and patches of old tunes
and songs incessantly, besides the want of taste,
may incommode others; and therefore she waits
for proper opportunities, when she may blend
her voice in harmony with others, or exercise
herself in this sweet art by herself.
There is nothing which sheds such a soft
lustre upon the female character in youth, as
gentleness of spirit, and a modest, quiet behavior. These traits of character will always make
a favorable impression upon strangers; while it
is difficult ever to wear off the unpleasant first
impression that is made by a bold, noisy, boisterous girl.
IV. There are several other habits that I shall
speak of in connection with other things, and
therefore omit them here. I shall only notice
one more in this place, and that is RUDENESS.
This term does not describe any one particular
habit, but a great many little ones. Webster
defines it thus: "Rough; of coarse manners;
unpolished; clownish; rustic." It is not, therefore, a habit merely, but a series of habits; and
96 
RUDE HIBITS.
these so numerous, that it can hardly be expected
that I should do any more than to give a few
specimens, to show what I mean by rude habits.
These I shall mention at random, a thbey occur
to my mind, without any attempt at P,der or
arrangement; presuming that the minds of my
readers will immediately suggest a great many
more, of similar character. Rudeness manifests
itself both in speech and behavior. The habit
of interlarding conversation with by-words, or
unmeaning phrases thrown in at random, be.
tween the sentences, is exceedingly rude, and
especially unbecoming in a young lady. If I
could write down some conversations of this
kind, just as they are spoken, I think the practice would appear so ridiculous, that you would
never indulge it. By-words, or by-phrases, of
whatever kind, add nothing to the force or beauty
of conversation; but some that are in common
use among low-bred people are objectionable, on
the score of vulgarity, approaching to profaneness. Such a habit indicates, indeed, a disposition to be profane, restrained  only by fear.
The use of low expressions, ungrammatical language, and a sort of chimney-corner dialect, is a
rude habit, which, if indulged, may cost you
great effort to overcome.   If you would be a
well-bred lady, never indulge any habit of this
9
97 
COARSE JESTING.
kind; and be particular in your common conversation, to observe the rules of grammar, and of
correct taste, yet without affectation of preciseness. By beginning in this manner, you will
form the habit of conversing in an easy, pure,
and chaste style, free from all rudeness and
vulgarity.
Another rude habit of speech, much practised
among the young, is coarse jesting, -running
upon one another, with the use of low witticisms
upon each other's peculiarities. I do not know
that I am able to describe what I mean, so that
you will understand me.  I would give you a
specimen, if I could do so without being rude
myself. It is rude and uncivil to seek, even in
pleasantry, to wound the feelings of any.
Rudeness of behavior is almost indefinable. I
shall only be able to mention a few things as
specimens,- such as tilting one's chair; sitting
awkwardly; sitting on two chairs; putting the
feet on another's chair; rocking; drumming with
the fingers or feet; scratching books, furniture,
window-frames, or walls; and a hundred other
things that might be named, which indicate not
only the want of good breeding, but the want of
good taste, and a sense of propriety. I have
seen a little miss come into the room where I
have been visiting, and, throwing herself into the
98 
RUDE HABITS
rocking-chair, rock violently back and fortIh,
with as much assurance as if she were amusing
herself in a swing. I have seen the same thing
in a young woman. But, a little girl, or a young
lady, who possessed a nice sense of propriety,
would not have presumed, on such an occasion,
to seat herself in the rocking-chair  at all.  1
once met a young lady, who was attending a
boarding school, and during a few moments' conversation in the street, she busied herself in
deliberately forming prints with her foot in the
mud!
These are but a few specimens of rude habits.
What I wish to impress upon you, by these examples, is, the necessity of avoiding the formation of habits which indicate rudeness and want
of cultivation. All the habits which you form
in early life should be such as you will wish iocarry with you to the grave; for it is exceeding].
difficult to break up a bad habit.:
99 
100
CHAPTER XII.
EDUCATION OF TIlE BODY.
THE reader will perhaps laugh at the idea of
educating the body. But a moment's reflection
will show that no part of man more needs edu  cation than the body. The design of education,
as I have already said is, to form the character,
and prepare us, in early life, for what we are to
do in future. For this purpose, the body needs
discipline as well as the mind. An ill body
makes an ill mind and a sad heart. The health
of the body is necessary to the healthy operation
'ot the mind; and a healthy body is secured by
-*ativity.  But the body not only needs health, but
discipline.  The fingers must be taught all man  ner of handiwork, and exercised upon it, in
order to accustom them to the use that is to be
made of them; the feet must be taught to per  form their appropriate duties, in a graceful and
proper manner; and all the muscles of the body
must be exercised, in due proportion, to give
them  strength and solidity.   The  proper  dis  cipline of the several members of the body is 
CONTROL THE MOTIONS OF THE BODY. 101
necessary, not only to prepare them for useful
occupation, but to give them a graceful, natural,
and easy motion, and so promote good manners
and a genteel carriage.
I shall not be very particular in what I have
to say on this subject, but only give a few gentle
hints.
1. DISCIPLINE THE BODY TO OBEY THE WILL.
-You would not think, to see some young folks,
that the will had any thing to do with the movements of the body; for it moves in all imaginable
ways, with all sorts of contortions. First flies
out a foot, then a hand, then there's a twirl or a
swing, then a drumming of the fingers, a trotting
of the foot, or some such odd figure. This
arises from leaving the body to control itself, by
its own natural activity, the mind taking no
supervision of its motions. Now, if you early
accustom yourself to exercise a strict mental
supervision over the body, so as never to make
any movement whatever, except what you mean
to make, you will find this habit of great consequence to you; for, besides saving you the mortification of a thousand ungraceful movements
which habit has rendered natural, it will enable
you to control your nerves, the necessity for
which you will understand better hereafter than
you do now. Make the will the ruling power
9* 
EARLY RISING.
of your body, so as never to do any thing but
what you mean to do, and you will never get
the reputation of being nervous.
2. AVOID LATE HOURS. - It would seem hardly
necessary to give such a direction to young per sons still under the control of their parents.
But facts too plainly show that parents do not
always sufficiently consider the injurious effects
of late hours upon the fair and healthy development of the human frame. And the disposition of young people to seek amusement overcomes, with them, the dictates of prudence. But
the practice of sitting up late, and especially of
being abroad late at night, is a war upon nature.
It interrupts the regular course of things. It
turns night into day and day into night. If you
would be pale-faced, sickly, nervous, and good
for nothing, sit up late at night.
3. RISE EARLY. - It is said that, to have a fair
skin, rosy cheeks, and a fine complexion, one
must wash every morning in summer in the dew.
Whether there is any virtue in the dew or not,
I cannot say; but I have no doubt that such
would be the effect of the practice proposed.
To rise early, before the atmosphere has become
heated with the summer's sun, and walk abroad,
snuffing the cool breeze, listening to the music
of the feathered tribe, and joining in the sweet
102 
BATHING.
harmony of nature, hymning forth praise to the
Creator, certainly tends to promote health of
body and cheerfulness and serenity of mind;
and these will make a blooming countenance,
and clothe very plain features with an aspect of
beauty. The adding of the dew-wash will do no
harm. If you make a rule of washing in the
dew, it will stimulate you to sally forth before
the sun has driven it away; and you can find no
softer water than the dew.
4. USE PLENTY OF WATER. - The body cannot be kept in a healthy state, without frequent
bathing. It should be washed all over, with cold
water, at least once every day, to promote health
and cleanliness.   One who has never tried it
can have no idea of its invigorating effects; and
it seems hardly possible that the human system
can keep long in order, while this is neglected.
The machinery of a watch, after a while, gets
dirty, so that it will not run till it is taken to
pieces and cleaned. But the machinery of the
human body is vastly more intricate than that of
a watch. It is made up of an endless mumber
of parts, of various patterns, some of them of the
most delicate texture and exquisite workmanship, but all parts of a great machine that is
constantly in motion.   And there is provision
made for carrying off all the dirt that accumu
103 
CARE OF THE TEETH.
lates on its wheels and bands, in little tubes,
which discharge it upon the surface of the skin
But unless frequently washed off, it accumulates,
and stops up the ends of these little tubes, and
prevents their discharging, so that the offensive
and poisonous matter which they would carry
off is kept in the system   Let this go on a little
while, and it cannot fail to produce disease.
Therefore, I say, use plenty of water.
5. TAKE CARE OF YOUR TEETH. -The teeth
have a very important office to perform in the
animal economy- that of preparing the food for
the stomach.   What  is not done  by the teeth
must be done by the digestive organs. Therefore, your health is deeply concerned in the
preservation of a good set of teeth. The voice
and the countenance, also, plead with you to
take care of your teeth. In almost all cases,
teeth may be saved from decay, if attended to in
time.   The best directions I can give for preserving the teeth are, to clean them every day
with a brush, and pick them after every meal
with a pointed quill, so as to remove all the particles of food from between them, and the tartar
that adheres to the surface; - cleanliness, as well
as the safety of the teeth, requires this. You
ought to have your teeth examined and attended
to, by a dentist, once or twice a year. Keeping
104 
BE ACTIVE.
them  clean preserves them from  decay; and
if decay commences, a dentist can stop it, if
he can take them in season.
6. BE ACTIVE. -The body was made for use.
Every part of it is formed for activity.   But
any thing made for use will suffer injury to lie
still. The human body, especially, if suffered
to remain inactive, becomes useless. Activity
strengthens the parts. If you would have more
strength, you must use what you have, and it
will increase. The right use of your members,
also, must be learned by practice. Much practice is necessary, for instance, to train the fingers
to the various uses in which they are to be employed, so as, (to use a homely phrase,) to make
them handy. The body, likewise, needs exercise, to keep it in a healthy state. The various
parts of its machinery have a great work to do,
every day, in turning your food into blood, and
sending it a great many thousand times, in a
vast number of little streams, to every part of the
body. But this machinery will not work, if the
body is all the time inactive. It requires motion,
to give it power. There is nothing, therefore,
so bad for it as laziness. It is like a dead calm
to a windmill, which stops all its machinery.
7. LEARN, AT PROPER TIMES, TO BE STILL.
All nature needs repose.  If the human sys
105 
DEFORMITY.
tern were always kept in the utmost activity, it
would soon wear out. For this reason, God has
given us periodical seasons of rest - a part of
every day, and one whole day in seven. There
are times, also, when it is not proper to be
active; as, when you are at your devotions, or
at family worship, or in the house of God. So,
likewise, at school, or in company, or when you
sit down with the family at home, as well as in
many other cases, activity is out of place. Your
body, therefore, will never be educated, till you
have obtained such control over it, as to be able,
at proper times, to be still. And I may say, it
is a great accomplishment in a young person, to
know just when to be still, and to have selfcontrol enough to be still just at the proper time.
8. BE  CAREFUL TO  KEEP THE  BODY IN ITS
NATURAL POSITION. -This is necessary, not only
to preserve its beauty, but to prevent deformity.
Sitting at school, or at any sedentary employ
ment, is liable to produce some unnatural twist
or bend of the body. The human form, in its
natural position, is a model of beauty. But,
when bad habits turn it out of shape, it offends
the eye. Avoid a stooping posture, or an inclination to either side. But sit and stand erect,
with the small of the back curved in, the chest
thrown forward, the shoulders back, and the
106 
TIGHT-DRESSING.
head upright. A little attention to these things
every day, while the body is growing, and the
bones and muscles are in a flexible state, will
give your form a beauty and symmetry, which
you can never acquire afterwards, if you neglect
it at this time of life. And it will do more, a
thousand times, to keep you in health, than all
the doctor's pill-boxes.
9. AVOID TIGHT-DRESSING, AS YOU WOULD A
BLACK SNAKE.- You will, perhaps, smile at this.
But if you know any thing of the black snake,
you  will  recollect that it assaults not with
deadly venom  but winds itself around its victim, stops the circulation of the blood, and, if
it reaches high enough, makes a rope of itself,
to strangle him. I need not tell you that the
effects of tight-dressing are similar. Whatever
part of the body,- whether neck, chest, arms,
limbs or feet,- is pinched with tight covering, is
subject to the same strangling process produced
by the black snake. It obstructs the free circulation of the blood, and produces a tendency to
disease in the part so compressed.  If you feel
an unpleasant tightness in any part of your dress,
remember the black snake.
10. DISCIPLINE  THE  MUSCLES OF THE  FACE.
- You may think this a queer direction; but I
assure you it is given with all gravity. If you
107 
BE TEMPERATE.
allow every temper of the heart to find a corre sponding expression in the muscles of the face,
you will be sure to spoil the fairest countenance.
How would you feel, if you were to see an ac complished young person, with fine features, and
a beautiful countenance; but on coming near,
should discover little holes in the face, from
which, every now and then, vipers and veno mous serpents were thrusting out their heads
and hissing at you? Well, the evil tempers of
the heart, such as pride, vanity, envy, jealousy,
&c., are a nest of vipers; and, when indulged,
they will spit out their venom through the countenance. How often do we see a proud, scornful, sour, morose, or jealous expression, that has
fairly been worn into the features of the countenance!  And  what is this but the hissing of
vipers that dwell within? Strive to acquire such
self-control, as to keep a calm, serene expression
upon your countenance; and you cannot tell
how much it will add to your appearance.
11. BE TEMPERATE. -To  be strictly temperate is, to avoid all excess. Not onlly abstain from
eating and drinking what is hurtful, but use
moderation in all things -in eating and drinking, in running and walking, in play, in amusement.
108 
CHAPTER XIII.
KNOWLEDGE OF HOUSEHOLD AFFAIRS.
IT is in acquiring a knowledge of household
affairs, chiefly, that your body is to be educated.
Young girls often have wrong notions about this
matter, looking upon howse-work as mnere drudgery, only fit for servants.   And,  especially, if
they get it into their heads that they are to
be trained up for ladies, they learn to despise
all useful labor. And sometimes they become
so heartless and unfeeling as to be willing to see
their mothers working like slaves, while they set
up for ladies. But this is any thing but ladylike. The term lady was originally applied to
a woman of rank, as that of lord was to a man
of rank. In the old country, society is divided
into different orders, the nobility and the corn
mon people. But it is not so among us. Every
woman can be a lady, who conducts herself in a
lady-like manner. And the true idea of a lady
is, a strict propriety of conduct on all occasions.
One may, therefore, be a lady as well in the
kitchen as in the parlor.
10
1019 
MRS  BRADISI.
Nothing will make a woman appear more
ridiculous than a contempt for useful occupation, and especially for household affairs.   No
woman that has the charge of a family can carry
out the true idea of a lady, without a knowledge
of household duties.   She cannot have things
done to her mind, nor save herself from the severest mortification, without it, The following
well-told story, which I have met with in an
old paper, will give a fine illustration of what
I  mean:  "It  is the middle of January.   Business is
brisk, and winter parties are frequent, At half
past eight o'clock in the morning, a girl stands
at the foot of Mrs. Bradish's broad stairs, ringing
the bell for breakfast. She returns into the back
parlor, and after walking and fidgeting. about for
a while, begins talking to herself:'I wish Mrs.
Bradish would ever come to her meals when the
bell rings.  She  stays half an hour, and then
scolds because every thing is cold. I'm sure it
isn't my fault;  there was full an hour  and  a
quarter between the two bells this morning; but
she's just as likely to be in time when I allow
only fifteen minutes. I'm determined I won't
get up so early another morning, that's poz-'
Sh.w-as interrupted by Mr. Bradish's appearance,
in morning gown and slippers.
I10 
SOUR CAKES AND SOUR FACES.
W' Why, Bridget, why did you not ring a first
bell? Here it is half past eight o'clock; just the
hour I promised to meet a western merchant at
my store.  I shall lose a thousand dollars.'
"'I did ring a first bell, sir.'
"' Not at the regular hour.'
"' We can't have no regular hours, sir. Sometimes the cook isn't up till eight o'clock, and we
can't have no fire in the kitchen. And sometimes Mrs. Bradish isn't ready for her breakfast
till nine o'clock; and she doesn't like it, if it's
cold.'
"'But I must have my breakfast at eight
o'clock.   Come,  hurry -  give me  a cu.p of
coffee.  This egg is as hard as a stone, and as
cold as an icicle. Bring me some hot cakes.'
"The cakes were brought.'These cakes are
sour; they are not fit to be eaten. What is the
reason we always have sour cakes?'
"' I don't know.   The last cook used to put
in some white stuff to sweeten them, but I don't
think this one knows. She don't seem to know
much about cooking.'
"' It must be soda, or pearlash.  Go to her,
and tell her to put some into her batter.  Run
up first, and ask Mrs. Bradish to come down to
her breakfast.'
" Mrs. Bradish and the remodelled cakes made
III 
112     MORNING AFTER THE D A.NC'.
their appearance at about the same time. The
former looked dull, listless, and sleepy, with a
stray lock of uncombed hair hanging down from
beneath a tumbled cap. The latter - that is the
cakes -were of a dark sea-green color, and sent
forth an odor very much resemblving that from a
soap-boiler's vat.  Mr. Bradish swallowed one
mouthful; but, on taking a second, he was obliged
to walk hastily to the window, where he threw
something into the back yard. Hle returned to
the table, making very wry faces.
"'Bridget, bring me a cracker, if there is one
in the house. My dear, don't eat that bread or
those cakes; you will be poisoned   I took a
whole mouthful of pure saleratus just now. How
I wish we could ever have a pleasant breakfast
together, with things hot, and nice, and wells
cooked.'
"'I'm  sure it is not my fault; -— I tell the
cook to make tlhm nice.'
"' Suppose, my dear, you were, for one or two
mornings, to get up early, and go into the kitchen
to see that things were properly prepared.'
"'How  can I get up early, when I am out,
almost every night, till one or two o'clock?'
"  Let us go to fewer parties, my dear, and
not stay so late when we do go. I should be
much happier, and my business would he much 
9RETTING.
better attended to.   I think our servants need
overseeing.'
"'Very well, Mr. Bradish.  If you wish me
to spend my time cooking, and overseeing servants, you should have told me so at first, that I
might have learned how. My hands will look
pretty in the evening, with the nails all filled
with pie-crust. And how can I dance the Polka
with any spirit, if I'm to be dancing from the
kitchen to the parlor all day?'
"Just at that moment, there was a heavy
thump and a loud squall overhead.'There,
that careless little Jane has dropped the baby on
the floor. I hope she has not broken any of
its bones.'
"Charles  Bradish really loved his wife and
child. He followed her up stairs, but seeing the
baby was not seriously hurt, he kissed them both,
and hurried away.  Just as he left the room, he
said,'My old friend, Horatio Snelling, is in
town. If I see him to-day, I must ask him home
to dinner; and, pray, my dear, be punctual, and
have things nice and well served. He is one of
my best customers, and he has a capital wife at
home.'
"'I do wonder,'  said Mrs.  Bradish,' what
Charles must be bringing people home to dinner
for.  It is a perfect bore.  And  how  in the
10 #
113 
FRETTING.
world a nice dinner is to be got with a cook
just out of an Irish bog, is more than I can tell.
It is really a reasonable, pretty thing, to expeict
me to spend half of my time in the kitchen,
teaching and coaxing those that ought to know
their business before they come to me!'
"At eleven o'clock, however, she went into
the kitchen. The marketing had just come -a
turkey, a leg of mutton, and a fine fresh fish.
'Well, Biddy, I suppose you know how to cook
these things. The turkey must be roasted, with
a brown gravy made of the giblets. The leg of
mutton boiled with caper-sauce; the fish must
also be boiled and garnished with eggs. Make
an apple pie, and some custards; -that will be
quite sufficient for a second course.   And be
sure, Biddy, to have it all hot and ready for the
table at exactly half past three o'clock.'
"Biddy said she knew perfectly well how it
should be done, and that it should all be ready
at the moment.
"Mrs. Bradish dressed, and went out to order
a new head-dress for the evening party. She
met a friend who wished her to go shopping; and
time slipped away so fast in tIs manner, that it
was three o'clock when she came in.  She ran
to the kitchen to see what state the dinner was
in.  The turkey was browning very nicely be
114 
THE TIPSY-CAKE.
fore a hot fire; and the cook assured her that
the mutton and the fish were doing very well.
The pies were yet in the oven, but the custards
were of such a dingy color, and so burnt upon
the outside of the cups, that Susan saw they
would not answer to be placed upon the table.
'I can make a tipsy-cake; Charles likes it,
and it will look very well.' She sent the girl to
the nearest confectioner's, for a sponge cake,
while she beat up cream, sugar, and spices.
The cake was brought.
"'Now run up stairs, and bring down a
bottle of wine or brandy, from the dining-room
closet.'
"The bottle was brought, and part of the contents poured into a dish. The cake was then
laid carefully in, and the custard poured around
it.'There, that looks nicely; and how quickly
it was done! I did it all myself, too.' Saying
which, she ran up stairs to change her dress for
dinner.
"She did not get down in time to receive
her hlusband's friend; but just as she reached the
parlor door, the bell rang for dinner, so they
passed at once to the dining-room. The meats
were all on the table; but it looked bare, for a
dish of potatoes, boiled with the skins on, was
the only vegetable. The waiter-girl was sent
115 
THE DINNER.
in haste for some currant jelly, and the fish was
uncovered. It was in pieces or flakes, and of a
pale brown color. It was garnished with eggs,
one of which was streaked with green, and which
sent forth such a peculiar odor, that the dish had
to be sent out at once from the table.'This
turkey looks well,' said Mr. Bradish;'but I
fear it is not done,' continued he, as the passage
of the knife disclosed the raw, pink-colored meat.
No, the turkey had been too suddenly cooked;
there was not a bit even of the bread that was
eatable. Susan looked in despair; but her husband, seeing her mortification, tried to put a
good face upon the matter.'Well, we must
dine upon mutton; and there have been worse
things eaten than a good leg of boiled mutton.'
"Mr.  Snelling declared it was his favorite
dish.
"' But how is this?' exclaimed Mr. Bradish,
at the first mouthful;' it tastes of fish more than
mutton. It must have been boiled with the fish.'
"There  are certain flavors whose union is
pleasant; but mutton and fish do not happen to
be of that kind. Mr. Snelling, however, was
good-natured and polite. He peeled a potato,
helped himself to currant jelly, and appeared to
eat with infinite relish, telling all the laughable
anecdotes he could think of, about the bulls and
116
2. 
THE DOSE.
mistakes of both foreigners and natives. Neither
Charles nor his wife, however, could converse
with any spirit; and they both looked relieved,
when the dishes were taken away. Susan hoped
that the apple pie would prove eatable; but she
was mistaken- the crust was hard and leathery,
and the apples half baked and ill-flavored. The
custard cake was her last and only hope.' Let
me help you to some of this, Mr. Snelling,' said
she, filling a plate full.'I flatter myself you
will find it good, for I made it myself. Our
dinner has proved so very poor, I hope you will
eat heartily of it.'
"Charles brightened up. He looked at his
friend, hoping to hear him praise his wife's cook ery. His guest had a spoonful of the liquid
cake in his mouth. His face flushed, his teeth
were set together, while a peculiar heaving mo tion of the chest showed any thing but a gratified
palate. At last, with a tremendous effort, he
swallowed it.
"' What is it?' said Charles, looking aghast,
and at the same time tasting the dish before him.
' Heavens and earth! It is saturated with nauseous
drugs!  This is not wine; it is elixir pro!'  It
was true; the girl, in her hurry, had mistaken
the bottle.
"The friend was a humorist, and the whole
117
I 
WOULD-BE LADIES.
affair of the dinner, Mrs. Bradish's chop-fallen
countenance, and her husband's rueful looks,
struck him all at once so ludicrously, that he
could not refrain from laughing long and heart ily. Few people could resist that laugh, and
Charles was finally obliged to join; but his wife
had been too much mortified, and was now too
angry, to partake in their merriment; so she
betook herself to her nursery."
If Mrs. Bradish had been in the habit of work ing in the kitchen, when she was a girl, and if
her mother had made it an important part of her
education to learn household affairs, she would
never have suffered these mortifications.
Some would-be ladies affect great contempt
for labor, and especially scorn to put their hands
to any household work. They are afraid of
soiling their hands, or of having it known among
their fashionable friends that they are in the
habit of doing any thing useful. But such ladies
are always unhappy; because they are obliged
to be dependent on servants, and they can never
get those who will do work to suit them, unless
they know how to do it themselves, and are able
to give instruction to those whom they employ.
They are, likewise, despised by all sensible people; for the greatest merit any one can have, in
the estimation of the people of this country, is,
118 
HONORABLE WOMEN.
to be useful But a lady who does not know
how to take care of herself and of her own
house, or who feels above it, cannot be very
useful. She will, most likely, be a laughingstock among the people. The greater portion of
the women of this country, with the assistance of
their daughters, do their own work; and some
of the most accomplished ladies I have ever
seen are not ashamed, when there is occasion
for it, to go into the kitchen and cook a meal of
victuals. And why should they be? Christian
ladies are called by the apostle Peter the daughters
of Sarah; and she cooked a supper with her own
hands for the angels that came to visit Abraham.   King  Solomon  represents  his virtuous
woman as seeking wool and flax, and working
willingly with her hands, and as rising early and
giving meat to her household. No one need be
ashamed to be seen engaged in any useful employment; but it is a great shame for any woman
who has charge of a house, not to understand
how to do what is necessary to manage a house.
There is much to interest the mind in household affairs. You may apply your philosophy to
sweeping and dusting, and making beds, and
find interesting illustrations of what you learn
from books in all the arrangements of the house;
and in cooking and washing you will find abun
119 
PIIIL'OSOPHY IN THE tITCHEN.
dance of interesting experiments in chemistry.
Yet there are multitudes who would prefer
spending their time at fancy needle-work, though
there is very little required in performing it but
mechanical skill. This I do not condemn; but
the useful should be set foremost. All ornamental branches of education are to be encouraged; but they will not make amends for the
want of skill to cook a meal of victuals, make a
plain garment, or darn a stocking. There is
more science in boiling a potato, or raising
bread, and more judgment required, than there
is in executing the finest piece of embroidery.
Should you ever become the mistress of a house,
your ornamental work will please the sight; but
it will never set off against heavy bread and
hard, watery potatoes
120 
121
CHAPTER XIV.
ED)UCATION OF THE HEART,
BY the heart, I mean the moral faculties, in
distinction from  the intellectual.   Any  action
is moral) which can be praised or blamed. The
moralfaculties are those which determine moral
action.  These faculties are, the Conscience, Will,
and Affections. In this division, I do not attempt
mnetaphysical exactness, but only what I can
make my readers understand. When I speak
of educating these faculties, I do not mean to
separate the process from that of religious education in general; for nothing can be well done,
in the formation of character, without religious
principle and motives at the foundation. But
my object is, to speak of the specific means
by which these faculties may be cultivated.
It may be necessary for me to explain what I
mean by the Conscience, Will, and Affections. Yet
it does not fall in with my design, neither would
it suit the age and capacities of those for whom
I write, to enter into a philosophical description,
11 
CONSCIJENCE.
or analysis, of the faculties of the mind, or affec  tions of the heart. I shall only give such simple
explanations as are sufficient for my purpose, and
as I suppose will be understood by my readers.
I. TtHE CONscIENcE. -This is the faculty
which determines whether,any action proposed
to the mind, or any feeling of the heart, is right
or wrong,. If you will watch the motions of your
own mind, you will perceive, whenever any thing
is proposed to be done or not to be done, some thing within tells you t,hat it is either right or
wrong; if wrong,, you find the same something
within, urging you not to do it; or, if right, the
same impulse moves you to do it. If you do as
you  are thus urged, you find the same  voice
within approving what you have done, or, if you
do not obey, condemning you. This something
within is cONSCIENCE.
You have, doubtless, lived long enough to
experience many a conflict, or dispute, between
your conscience and your inclinations. You are
inclined to do something which your conscience
tells you is wrong; but conscience not only tells
you it is wrong, but urges you not to do it.
Your inclinations, or desires, urge you in the
contrary direction; and this creates a conflict.
If conscience prevails, then it approves your decision, and you feel happy. But, if inclination
1l2 
THE SOUL'S EYE.
prevails, conscience upbraids, and you feel miserable.
As I have defined education, you will see the
great importance of educating the conscience.  It
is the leading moral faculty, and must have a
great influence upon the moral character. For
the conscience itself may be wrong. It is not
itself the rule by which you are to determine
what is right and wrong. The Word of God is
the rule. The office of conscience is, to deter
mine whether any thing you propose to do is
agreeable to the rule, and to urge you, accordingly, to do it or not to do it. Suppose you wish
to determine whether any thing is straight; you
lay a rule upon it that you suppose to be straight,
and if they agree, that settles the matter.  Your
eye, comparing the object with the rule, determines whether it is straight or not. But, if the
rule applied is crooked, your eye is deceived,
and you misjudge. Conscience is the eye of the
soul, that compares an action with the rule. The
conscience, then, must be well instructed. You
must learn the rule of right from the Word of
God, and then conscience will always decide
right. But, if you adopt false notions of right
and wrong, your very conscience will lead you
astray. The first thing, then, in the education
of the heart is, to have it filled with right prin
o@..,
..   
123 
CONSCIENCE STIFLED.
ciples; and these you are to obtain from the
study of the Bible, and from listening to the
instructions of your parents, teachers, and min   isters.
The next thing is, always to obey the voice of
conscience  If you go contrary to it, and  do
what conscience tells you is wrong, or neglect
what it urges upon you as duty, you weaken that
faculty, and harden the heart.  When you refuse
to hearken to the voice of conscience, the next
time it will not speak so loud; aIld every time
tllis is repeated, the weaker it grows, till at
length it is scarcely heard at all, and you may
go on and sin almost without restraint. If you
will look back a little while in your own experi.
ence, you will see the force of what I say. If
you have ever fallen into the habit of secretly
disobeying your parents, you will find an illus.
tration of it. The first timne you were tempted
to disobey, your conscience was very loud against
it; but the temptation, falling in with your in.
clinations, prevailed. Then conscience upbraided
you with a voice of terror. But you were not
discovered, and no immediate evil followed. The
next t,ime the temptation presented itself, the re   mnonstrance of conscience was feeble, and its
condemnation  light.   The  next time it was
~fLbler still; till at length you could do with
o....................................  
124 
THE WILL.
careless indifference what at first made you shudder.   But when  the power of conscience is
gone, there is but one step more to ruin. If,
then, you would keep your conscience tender,
you must always obey its voice.
Another means of educating the conscience
is, the habit of thinking with approbation of
what is right, and putting out of the mind with
horror  all thoughts of what is wrong.   The
most hateful things, by becoming familiar to
the sight,.lose much of the horror which they
excite at first. A person who had never seen
an animal killed would be deeply affected at
the sight; but a butcher thinks nothing of it.
So. by thinking much of what is wrong, the con science becomes defiled, and ceases to act with
promptness and decision; while, if kept famil iar only with the good, it would revolt instantly
from the bad.
II. THE WILL.- This  is  the  faculty that
chooses or refuses.  It is the decisive faculty.  It
is the power that determines action, whether
good or bad. It is the ruling faculty of the soul.
I said conscience was the leading faculty, be cause it goes before the action of the will,
and moves it to choose what  is right.   The
will is the ruling faculty, because it determines
all action   The way to educate t/re will is, to
11*
125 
SUBMISSION.
accustom it to submit to the dictates of conscience. The will, in our fallen and depraved
state, is turbulent and unsubmissive. It is not
disposed to submit to the law of God, nor to
those whom God has set over us. Yet there is
nothing of more importance to our happiness and
usefulness than the early subjection of the will.
If you determine that you will always have your
own will, you will certainly be unhappy; for it is
impossible that you should always have your own
way.   But if you early accustom yourself to
give up your own will; to submit to the will
of God, as made known to you in his word and
Providence,- to submit to your parents, as those
whom God has set over you, and to your own
conscience, as the faithful monitor which God
has placed in your own bosom, - then you will be
as happy as you can be in this imperfect state.
This you will not accomplish all at once. It
must be the result of experience, trial, and discipline, with the grace of God in your heart.
But if you begin to cultivate the habit of submission, in early life, it will save you many a
severe struggle and  much unhappiness.   You
have doubtless learned, before this time, that you
always get into difficulty at home, when you set
out to have your own will. And perhaps you
have sometimes, in your impatience at contra
126 
SELF-WILL.
diction secretly wished that you were of age,
beyond the control of your parents, that you
might do as you pleased. But I assure you, both
from my own experience and from what I have
seen of the world, that you will not find it any
easier to have your own will, after you come to
act for yourself.   You will not succeed in any
thing you undertake to do for others, unless you
give up your own will; neither will you succeed
in making society agreeable to yourself. Suppose you go to a shoemaker, to get a pair of
shoes made, and as soon as you begin to tell him
how you wish them done, he answers, "I understand my business; if you want a pair of shoes,
I'll make them for you, but nobody can teach
me  how  to do my work?"  You would say,
"He is a surly creature; I'll have nothing to
do with him." Or, suppose you go into company, and you find a young lady who will consent to nothing except what she herself proposes;
you say, "She is a selfish creature; let her enjoy
herself alone."   But all this comes from mere
wilfulness.   You  never  will  be comfortable,
much less happy, till you are willing to yield
to others, when no principle is concerned, but
only the mere gratification of your own will.
And when one is employed by another, it is perfectly reasonable that he should be directed by
127 
ANECDOTE.
his employer, even if what he is directed to do
may appear to him unwise. The only way that
you can succeed, and be happy, in any thing you
may undertake to do for others, is, to submit
your will to theirs, and do cheerfully, and without objection, what they require - provided, only,
that they do not require you to do wrong. If
you will look back, you will find that this wilfulness has been the cause of all the trouble you
have got into with your parents, and of nearly all
the altercations you have had with your brothers, sisters, and companions. And, if you retain
this disposition,  it will make  you  miserable,
whatever station in society you may occupy.
A little boy, named Truman, lost his owvn mother; and when he was four or five years of age, his
father married again. His new mother was an
excellent lady, very affectionate and kind-hearted
toward the children.   But one day, when she
was teaching Truman how to read, she could
not make him say his lesson correctly. She
therefore used thie rod till he submitted, and
read as he  ought.   He  was  afterwards overheard talking with himself, about his conduct:"Tru, what made you treat your dear mother
so?  HIasn't she always been  kind to you?"
"Yes,  I know she has.   She  loves me,  and
tries to do me all the good she can."   "Then
128 
THE AFFECTIONS.
how could you be so naughty, to treat her so? "
"I know I have been a very naughty boy, and
treated her very bad indeed when she has been
very kind to me; and she was trying then to
teach me for my own good."   "What  can you
say for yourself, then?  How did you come to
behave  so?"   "I can't say any thing for myself; I know it was very mean.  I feel ashamed
to think I could treat her so; and I'll never do
it again as long as I live. But I thought I would
just try for once, and see who was master."
The object of this little boy was to have his
own will. He was not willing to submit to his
mother, till he had tried his strength, to see
whose will should prevail.   Ile  got  a severe
chastisement, and had to submit after all.  And
so it will always be with you, if you set out with
the determination, if possible, always to have
your own will. You will be always getting into
difficulty, and gain nothing by it in the end.
III. THE AFFECTIONS. - I shall not undertake
in this place, to give a full and complete defini,
tion of the affections. It will answer my pres.
ent purpose, to say that the afections are the
feelings or emotions of the heart.   This may
not be philosophically accurate; but when my
readers come, at a more advanced age, to study
mental and moral philosophy, they can enlarge
129 
RESTRAIN ILL-TEMIPER.
their views.   For all practical purposes, this will
answer.   And what I mean  by educating the
afections is, to acquire the habit of controlling
the feelings, so as to suppress the bad and culti vate the good. You hear people talk of good
and bad dispositions. But a good disposition is
only the preponderance of good feelings; or in
other words, where good feelings and good tem pers prevail, we say that person has a good disposition; but if bad feelings and evil tempers
predominate, we say he has a bad disposition.
There is no doubt a difference in natural dispositions.  But with suitable efforts, and  especially with the aid of God's grace, much may
be done to cultivate and improve them.
With these preliminary remarks, I proceed to
give some rules for the cultivation of the aff6ctions.
1. ChECK THE FIRST RISINGS OF ILL-TEMPER.
- The smith, who makes an edged tool, - an axe,
a knife, or any such instrument,- first works
the iron and steel into the form which he wishes,
and then tempers it. While he is working it,
he wants to keep it soft, so that he can work it
easy; and this he does by keeping it hot. But
after he gets it finished, he heats it in the fire,
and dips it in water, so as to cool it suddenly,
and that makes it hard. But, if he left it so, it
130 
IIIGII AND LOW TEMPER.
would be so hard that it would break all to
pieces as soon as it was used.  So he holds it
again over the fire, and heats it a little, to take
out a part of the temper, and make it just of the
hardness that he wishes.  An instrument that is
very hard is called high-tenpecrcd; one that is
very soft is low-tentpercd.  This is a good illustration of tcmaper as it appears in us.  A  high
temcper is oqe that is easily excited, and that runs
so high as to be in danger of doing great mischief.  A  low temper is a disposition easy and
indifferent, like a knife tempered  so little that
the edge will turn the first time it is used. Now
you want temper enough not to be indifferent,
but not so much as to fly all in pieces. And
I know nothing on which your  usefulness and
happiness more depend, than in the proper regulation of your temper; and not your own happiness alone, but the happiness of all around
you. One of the first and greatest moral lessons
is, to learn to control your temper.   "He that
is slow to anger," says Solomon, "is better than
the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit, than
he that taketh a city."  But, "He that hath no
rule over his own spirit is like a city that is
broken down and without walls." By indulging an ungoverned temper, you expose yourself
to many evils.  You show the weak points of
131 
1312      t     ~EFCTS oF tAl) tMPEn,
your character, and lose the good opinion of
others, and your own self-respect, You cannot
help thinking meanly of yourself after having
broken out in a sudden gust of anger, or given
indulgence to a peevish, fretful spirit.  To be
ill-humored, peevish, or cross, is to be unhappy,
and to make others unhappy. But a sweet temper will not only make you happy, but, like the
balmy breezes of a summer evening, it will shed
a sweet fragrance all around you. Nothing will
tender your character more unlovely than illtemper. Nor, if habitually indulged at home,
can it be concealed even from the most careless
observer. You will carry the mark of it wherever you  go.   There  will be the ill-natured
scowl, the knit brow, the distorted features,
which no sweet-scented soap can wash out, and
no cosmetic hide. It will spoil the most elegant
features, and mar the most beautiful countenance. But a sweet temper will hide a thousand
defects, and render the most ordinary features
beautiful and lovely. I do not knowv any thing
that adds a greater charm to the y(,uthful countenance. But, if you'would have a sweet temper, you must suppress every ill-nat-red feeling;
never suffer yourself to be angry a, trifles, nor
get into a storm of passion on aniy account:
neither indulge a peevish, fretful disposition; 
THE BROOK AND THE RIVER.
but, on the contrary, cultivate and cherish good
nature, in every possible way. Strive to be
pleased with every thing around you, unless it
is positively bad; and never suffer the ill-humors
of others to disturb your own tranquillity. The
noisy cataract comes splashing its muddy waters
over the side of the mountain, leaping from rock
to rock, now shouting, now murmuring, now
scolding, now rushing on in the wildest fury,
till it plunges into the great river; but the river
rolls quietly on its majestic way, undisturbed by
the babbling waterfall, which only makes a momentary ripple upon the surface of its placid
waters. But, suppose the river should stop its
course, to quarrel with the noisy waterfall, what
would be the consequence? The whole country
would be inundated with the fury of its pentup waters. You cannot afford to get angry with
every one that is disposed to treat you ill. It
costs too much. Did you ever see a dog barking at the moon? And what did the moon do?
It went right straight on, and minided nothing
about it.  The moon can't afford to stop and
quarrel with the dog that barks at it.
"I know it is very foolish to be angry," per haps you will say; "but how can I help it? I
am suddenly provoked, and fall into a passion
before I have time to think of it." The best
12
133
.4 
CONSIDERATION.
remedy I can recommend is, that you make it a
rule never to be angry till you have had time to
consider whether you have any thing to be angry
about. And, in making inquiry, do not ask
whether the conduct that provoked you was bad;
but, in the first place, try if you cannot find
some apology for it, or some palliation; and,
second, whether, admitting it to be as bad as it
seems, it is really worth so great a sacrifice of
feeling, on your part, as you will have to make,
if you indulge your passions. And, among other
considerations, ask yourself how this thing will
appear a hundred years hence, when both yourself and the person who has provoked you, will
be in eternity:-" If I indulge my passions in
this thing, shall I then be able to look back
upon it with pleasure?" Some such reflections
as these will tend greatly to cool your anger;
and most likely, before you have thought upon
the matter many minutes, you will conclude that
it is not worth while to be angry.
So likewise, if you are given to fretfulness
and ill-humor, consider whether there is any sufficient cause why you should thus make yourself miserable?   And  you will probably find
that all your trouble is imaginary. Remember
that every thing that concerns you is ordered by
the providence of God;  and think how much
134 
ENVY AND JEALOUSY.
cause of thankfulness you have, every day, for his
goodness. And what has he done that you should
fret against him? He has perhaps suffered your
will to be crossed; but he has done it for your
good. Think, also, how this will appear a hundred years hence?  "How  will my fretfulness
appear, when I look back upon it, from another
world?" And if there were no sin in it, is there
not much  folly?- for  "why should  I make
myself miserable?"
2. NEVER  GIVE  THE  LEAST INDULGENCE TO
A JEALOUS OR ENVIOUS SPIRIT. -To be jealous,
is to suspect others of being unfriendly to us,
or of a design to injure us. To be envious, is
to be displeased with the prosperity of others,
especially if they are likely to excel us.   The
effect of these two passions upon the disposition
is very similar. If you are jealous of any person, you will be always looking for some evil
design in his conduct; and your imagination
will conjure up a thousand things that never had
any existence, except in your own mind. This
passion, habitually indulged, very often settles
down into a kind of monomntania, or partial in.
sanity. I have known persons, whose imagin ings, through the influence of jealousy, became
realities to their minds, and they would roundly
assert as facts, the things that they had image
135 
LAURA WILLIAMS.
ined respecting others. Such persons are per
petually in trouble, because they fancy some one
is plotting against them.   Your own comfort,
therefore, depends on your suppressing the first
motions of this evil affection. While you should
be on your guard against imposition, and never
confide implicitly in strangers, nor put yourself in the power of any one whose character
has not been proved, yet you should presume
others to be friendly till they show themselves
otherwise, and always give their conduct the
best construction it will bear.
Let me give you an example. There is Laura
Williams, -she is always in trouble, for fear some
one does not like her. If any of her companions
seem to take more notice of some other one
than of herself, she begins to be jealous that
their professions of friendship are not real; and
if any one happens not to notice her for once,
she considers it a slight; and so her feelings are
perpetually disturbed.   She  is  never  happy.
Sometimes she will weep, as if her heart would
break, for some fancied slight; when, in reality,
she has no occasion for trouble, and might just
as well laugh as cry. She will be unhappy as
long as she lives, and perhaps crazy before she
dies, if she does not overcome this passion.
Einvy is a more depraved passion than jeal
136 
MEANNESS OF ENVY.
ousy; but the effect upon the character is nearly
similar. You will find a melancholy illustration
of the nature and effects of envy, in the story of
Haman, in the Book of Esther. Though exalted
to the second place in the kingdom, he could not
enjoy his elevation, so long as Mordecai the Jew
sat in the king's gate.   He could endure no
rival.
But you will find examples enough of this passion among your own companions. There are
those that cannot bear a rival; and if any of
their companions excel themselves, they hate
them.   But  consider  how  mean  and  ignoble
such a feeling is. A truly generous spirit will
rejoice in whatever is excellent - will love excellence wherever it appears; but a mean and
selfish spirit would monopolize every thing to
itself, and be offended, if excelled by others.
Every noble sentiment revolts at the spirit of
envy; so that this base passion always defeats
itself. The envious person would be exalted
above all; but envy debases him below all, and
renders him despicable and miserable.
3. ACQUIRE THE HABIT OF REGARDING EVERY
ONE WITH FEELINGS OF GOOD-WILL.- There
are some persons, who accustom themselves tc
look upon others with a critical eye, and seem
to take pleasure in detecting and exposing their
12*
137 
GOOD-WILL.
failings.  This leads to misanthropy; it makes
people ill-natured. It leads them to look upon
almost every one as an object of aversion. If
this disposition begins in early life, and continues
to be cultivated, it will grow and increase, till it
settles at last into a sour, morose, malignant
temper, that can never look with pleasure or
satisfaction upon any human being.
Instead of indulging such a temper, you
should look with feelings of good-will upon
every one. Do not regard others with a critical
eye. If they are not incorrigibly bad, so as to
render them dangerous associates, overlook their
faults, and study to find out some redeeming
qualities. Consider that they belong to the same
great family- that they are as good by nature
as yourself- that they have immortal souls, to
be saved or lost. Try what excuses or apologies
you can find for their faults in the circumstances
in which they have been bred. And though you
may not see fit to make choice of them as your
friends, yet feel kindly towards them. But especially, do not forget that you are not faultless
yourself. This will exert a softening influence
upon your own character; and you will find
yourself much more happy in studying the good
qualities of others, and exercising feelings of
charity and good-will toward them, than you will
138 
GENEROSITY.
in criticising and finding fault. The one course
will make you amiable and happy,- the other,
unlovely and miserable.
4. GIVE FREE INDULGENCE  TO  EYERY NOBLE
AND GENEROUS SENTIMENT. - Rejoice when you
see others prosperous. Why should you be unhappy, that another is more prosperous than yourself, if you are not injured by it? If you love
your neighbor as yourself, his prosperity will be
as grateful to you as your own. Rejoice, also,
in the excellence of others. A truly noble heart
loves excellence for excellence's sake. A gen
erous heart is forgetful of self; and when it sees
excellence, it is drawn  toward it in love.  It
would scorn to put little self between it and a
worthy object.
This disposition should also be carried out in
action. A generous and noble spirit will not always be contending for its own rights. It will
yield rather than contend.   Contention, among
companions and associates, for each other's rights,
is a source of great unhappiness; and when it
becomes habitual, as it sometimes does among
brothers and sisters at home, it spoils the disposition.  "That is mine," says one.  "No," says
the other, "it is not yours, it is mine."   And
without waiting quietly to look into the matter,
and investigate the question of right, they fall
139 
GENTLENESS.
into a:sharp Contention.   The matter in ques-tion was-a mere-trifle.  It was not worth the sacrifice of good-nature which it cost. Howi much
better both- would  feel, to keep  good-natured,
and give each other the reasons for their claims,
and if they -cannot agree, for one or the other to
yield!  oOr, rather, how much more noble, if the
-nltention- be, which shall be allowed the privilege of- yielding! There is more pleasure in one
act- of generosity than in all that can be enjoyed
by seifish. possession; and nothing will render
yoa.more lovely in the eyes of others than a
.noble and generous disposition.
5.:B GENTLE. -Gentleness is opposed to all
s8everity and roughness of manners.  It diffuses
a mild, bland, amiable spirit through all the behavior. ~:It has much to do with the cultivation
of the aitffections. Where this is wanting, none
of the amiable affections will flourish.  A gentle
'spirit will show itself in a gentle behavior, and a
gentle —behavior will react upon the spirit, and
promote the growth of all the mild and amiable
affections.   You can distinguish the gentle by
the motion of the head, or the sound of their
footsteps. Their movements are quiet and noiseless. There is a charm in their behavior which
operates to secure for them the good opinion
of all.
.140 
KINDNESS.
6. BE KIND. - Every  kind  act that is performed increases the kind feelings of the heart.
If you treat your brothers and sisters kindly,
you will feel more kindly toward them; while,
if you treat them with harshness and severity, or
ill-treat them in any manner, it will seal up
your affections toward them, and you will be
more inclined to treat them with coolness and
indifference. If you are habitually kind to every
one, embracing every opportunity in your power
to perform some office of kindness to others, you
will find your good-will toward all increasing.
You will be universally beloved, and every one
will be kind to you.  See that little girl!  She
has run back to assist her little brother, who has
lost his shoe in the mud.    How  kindly she
speaks to him, to soothe his feelings and wipe
his tears! Some sisters that I have seen would
have been impatient of the delay, and scolded
him in a cross and angry manner for the trouble
he made. But with a heart full of sympathy, she
forgets herself, and is intent only on helping him
out of trouble, and quieting his grief. But she
has hardly got under way again, before she meets
a little girl, who has just fallen down and spilled
her berries, crying over her loss. Without once
thinking of the trouble it would give her, she
speaks kindly to the little girl, helps her pick up
141 
DISINTERESTEDNESS.
the lost fruit, and then assists her to pick enough
more -to make up her loss.  Every where she is
just so, always glad of an opportunity to show
kindness to every one she meets. And she gets
her pay as she goes along.   The happiness she
feels, in thus being able to contribute to the
comfort of others, is far beyond any thing she
could receive -from mere selfish enjoyment. And,
in. addition to this, she gets the good-will of
others, which makes them kind to her in re turn.
.7. KEEP PELF OUT OF VIEW,  AND  SHOW  AN
INTEREST  IN- THE  AFFAIRS OF OTHERS. -This
will ot.i only interest others in you, but it will
tend to stifle selfishness in your own heart, and
-to cultivate -disinterested feeling.   Sympathize
with others; enter into their feelings; and endeavor, in heart and feeling, to make their interest your own; so that there may  be a soil for
disinterested feeling to grow in.   If you  see
others enjoying themselves, rejoice with them.
Make the case your own, and  be glad that they
have Occasion to rejoice.  "Rejoice with them
that do-:rejoice."   If you have truly  benevolent feelings, it will certainly be an occasion of
joy to- you -to see them prosperous and happy,
whoever they are.   On the other hand, sympathize.wit4 misery and distress.  "Weep  with
"142 
DISINTERESTEDNESS.
them that weep."  Wherever  you  see misery,
let it affect your heart.  And never fail, if it is
in your power, to offer relief.  And, often, you
can afford the best relief to those of your own
age,- your companions, but especially your in
feriors, -by showing that you are affected with
their troubles, that you sympathize with them.
Cultivate the habit of feeling for others. When
you see or read of the sufferings of the poor,
when you read of the condition of the heathen,
who know not the way of salvation, let your
sympathies flow forth toward them. Learn to
feel for others' woe, and it will improve your
own  heart.   But,  besides this, you  will find
yourself rewarded with the affections of others.
Thus I have given you a few brief hints, to
show how the affections may be cultivated. I
must leave you to apply them in practice to
every-day life, and to carry out the principle,
in its application to all the circumstances in
which you may be placed; which principle is,
as much as possible, to repress and refrain from
exercising every bad feeling or affection, and to
cherish and cultivate the good, bringing them
into exercise on every fit occasion, that they
may grow into habits.
You will see, by what I have said under the
various heads of this chapter, that the idea ot 
EDUCATING THE HEART.
educating the heart is no mere figure of speech,
but a reality, of great importance to your character and well-being through  life.   Your parents and teachers will, of course, pay attention to this matter; but they cannot succeed
in it without your cooperation.   And with you
it must be an every-day work. You must carry
it out in all your conduct and feelings, and seek
the grace of God to aid you in so difficult a
work.    Without  an educated heart, you  will
never be fit to fill the station designed for a
WOIMAN.  A  woman's excellence and influence
lie in the heart;  and no outward accomplishments can compensate for the want of a good
heart.
144 
145
CHAPTER XV.
EDUCATION OF THE MIND.
THE term Alind is often employed to signify
all the faculties of the soul.  But I shall use it
in application to the intellectual faculties, in distirnction from the moral; as I have employed
ieart to denote the moral, in distinction from the
intellectual. I shall not undertake to give a
strictly philosophical distinction of the mental
faculties) but shall comprehend them in the
following division, which is sufficient for my
purpose, to wit: Perception, Reason or Understanding,  Jcudgment, Alemory, and Imagination.
PERCEPTION is the faculty that receives ideas
into the mind; as, when you look at a tree, immediately the idea of a tree is impressed on the
mind through the sense of sigrht; or, when you
touch an object, the idea of that object is impressed on your mind through the sense of
touch; or, you may receive the idea of a spirit,
from the explanations which you hear or read.
The REASON or UNDERSTrANDING, is the faculty that considers, analyzes, and compares ideas
13 
MENTAL FACULTIES.
received into the mind, and forms conclusions
concerning them.   For example, suppose you
had never seen a watch: one is presented to
you, and, as soon as your eye rests upon it, you
form an idea respecting it. Perhaps this idea is
no more than that it is a very curious object.
But, immediately, your understanding is employed
in considering what it is, the perceptive faculty
still being occupied in further discoveries. From
the fact that there is motion, you conclude there
must be some power within it; for motion is
not produced without power. Here is consideration and conclusion, which is a regular operation of reason. But, to make further discoveries,
you open the watch, to examine its parts. This
is analyzing. You examine all the parts that
you can see, on removing the case. You still see
motion - all the wheels moving in regular order;
but the cause of the motion, the power that
moves, is yet unseen. You perceive a chain
wound around a wheel, and attached to another
wheel, around which it is slowly winding itself;
and this chain appears to regulate the whole
movement. You conclude that the power must
be in this last-named wheel. Here is a conclusion from analyzing, or examining the parts
separately.
The JUDGMENT is the same as what is popu
146 
COMMON SENSE.
larly styled common sense. It is that faculty which
pronounces a decision, in view of all the information before the mind, in any given case. For
example, if you wish to determine what school
you will attend, you first obtain all the information you can respecting the different schools that
claim your attention. You consider and compare the advantages of each; and you decide
according to your impression of their comparative merits.  The faculty which forms this decision is called the judgnment.   You will readily
perceive how very important this faculty is; for
a person may be very learned, and yet a very
great dunce in every thing of a practical nature,
if he fails in judgment or common sense. His
learning will be of very little use to him, be cause he has not sense to use it.to advantage.
The MEMORY is the faculty which retains the
knowledge that is received into the mind. It is
a wonderful faculty. It may be compared to an
immense closet, with a countless number and
variety of shelves, drawers, and cells, in which
articles are stored away for future use, only one
of which can be examined by the proprietor at
the same time, and yet so arranged that he knows
just where to look for the article he wants. It is
supposed that no impression, once made upon the
memory, can be obliterated; and yet the im
147 
IMAGINATION.
pression may not be called up for'ears. It lies
there, till some association of ideas brings it up
again; the faculty not being able to present more
than one object distinctly before the mind at the
same instant.
The IMAGINATION is that faculty which forms
pictures in the mind of real or unreal scenes. It
is the faculty that you exercise in your fanciful
plays, and when your mind runs forward to the
time that you expect to be engaged in the busy
scenes of life, and you'picture to yourself pleasures and enjoyments in prospect. It is the faculty chiefly exercised by the poet and the writer
of fiction.
You will, perhaps, be tired of this explanation;
but it was necessary, in order to prepare the way
for what I have to say on the education of the
mind. From the definition of education already
given, you will perceive that my ideas differ
very much from those entertained by most young
people. Ask a young person what he is going
to school for, and he will answer, "' To learn."
And his idea of learning is, simply, to acquire
knowledge. This, however, is but a small part
of the object of education. And this idea often
leads youth to judge that much of what they are
required to study is of no value to them; because they think they shall have no use for the
148 
OBJECTS OF EDUCATION.
particular science they are studying, in practical
life. The chief objects of mental education are,
to cultivate and discipline the mind, and to
store it with those great facts and principles
which compose the elements of all knowledge.
The studies to be pursued, then, are to be chosen
with reference to these objects, and not merely
for the purpose of making the mind a vast storehouse of knowledge. This may be done, and
yet leave it a mere lumber-room. For without
the capacity to analyze, and turn it to account,
all the knowledge in the world is but useless
lumber.   It is of great importance that young
people should understand and appreciate this
principle, because it is intimately connected with
their success in acquiring a good education. To
this end, it is necessary that they should coop erate with their parents and teachers. This they
will never be ready to do, if they suppose the
only object of study is, to acquire a knowledge
of the particular branches they are set to learn;
for they cannot see the use of them. But, under standing the design of education to be, to dis cipline the mind, and furnish it with the elements
of knowledge, there is no science, no branch
of learning, but what is useful for these objects;
and the only question, where education cannot
be liberal, is, What branches will best secure
these ends?
13*
.6
149 
MENTAL DISCIPLINE.
This understanding of the objects of education is also necessary, to stimulate the young
to prosecute their studies in the most profitable
manner. If their object were merely to acquire
knowledge, the more aid they could get from
their teachers the better, because they would
thus obtain information the more rapidly. But
the object being to discipline the mind, call
forth its energies, and obtain a thorough knowledge of elementary principles, what is studied out, by the unaided efforts of the pupil, is
worth a hundred times more than that which
is communicated by an instructor. The very
effort of the mind which is requisite to study
out a sum in arithmetic, or a difficult sentence
in language, is worth more than it costs, for the
increased power which it imparts to the faculties
so exercised. The principles involved in the
case will, also, by this effort, be more deeply
impressed upon the mind. Such efforts are also
exceedingly valuable, for the confidence which
they inspire in one's power of accomplishment.
I do not mean to commend self-confidence in a
bad sense. For any one to be so confident of
his own power as to think he can do things
which he cannot, or to fancy himself qualified
for stations which he is not able to fill, is foolish
and vain.   But, to know one's own ability to
0
150 
INDEPENDENT EFFORT.
do, and have confidence in it, is indispensable to
success in any undertaking. And this confi.
dence is inspired by unaided efforts to overcome
difficulties in the process of education. AA an
instance of this, I recollect, when a boy, of encountering a very difficult sum in arithmetic.
After spending a considerable time on it, without success, I sought the aid of the school
teacher, who failed to render me any assistance.
I then applied to several other persons, none of
whom could give me the desired information.
Thus I was thrown back upon my own resources.
I studied upon it several days without success.
After worrying my head with it one evening, I
retired to rest, and dreamed out the whole process. I do not suppose there was any thing
supernatural in my dream; but the sum was the
absorbing subject of my thoughts, and when
sleep had closed the senses, they still ran on the
same subject.   Rising in the morning with a
clear head, and examining the question anew,
it all opened up to my mind with perfect clearness; all difficulty vanished, and in a few moments the problem was solved. I can scarcely
point to any single event, which has had more
influence upon the whole course of my life than
this. It gave me confidence in my ability to
succeed in any reasonable undertaking. But
151 
OVERCOMING DIFFICULTIES.
for this confidence, I should never have thought
of entering upon the most useful undertakings
of my life. But for this, you would never have
seeni this book, nor any other of the numerous
works which I have been enabled to furnish for
the benefit of the young. I mention this circumstance here, for the purpose of encouraging
you to independent mental effort. In prosecuting your studies, endeavor always, if possible,
to overcome every difficulty without the aid of
others.   This practice, besides giving you the
confidence of which I have spoken, will give
you a much better knowledge of the branches
you are pursuing, and enable you, as you advance, to proceed much more rapidly. Every
difficulty you overcome, by your own unaided
efforts, will make the next difficulty less. And
though at first you will proceed more slowly,
your habit of independent investigation will
soon enable you to outstrip all those who are
still held in the leading-strings of their teachers.
A child will learn to walk much sooner by being
let alone, than to be provided with a go-cart.
Your studies, pursued in this manner, will be
much more interesting; for you are interested
in any study just in proportion to the effort of
mind it costs you.
The perceptive faculty is developed first of
152 
SYMMETRY OF MIND.
all. It begins to be exercised by the child before it can speak, or even understand language.
Reason and judgment are more slow in their
development, though they begin to be exercised
at a very early period. Memory is exercised as
soon as ideas are received into the mind. The
imagination, in the natural course of things, is
developed latest of all; but it is often forced out
too early, like flowers in a hot-bed, in which
case it works great injury to the mind.
You will perceive the great importance of
bringing out the several faculties of the mind in
their due proportion. If the memory is chiefly
cultivated, you will have a great amount of
knowledge floating loosely in your mind, but it
will be of very little use. But the proper cultivation of the memory is indispensable, in order
to render your knowledge available. Nor will
it do for you to adopt the notion that nothing is
to be committed to the keeping of the memory
which is not fully understood. The memory is
a servant, which must consent to do some things
without knowing the reason why. The imagi.
nation is the beautiful flower that crowns the
top of the plant. But if forced out too early, or
out of due proportion, it will cover the stalk
with false blossoms, which, in a little time, will
wither, and leave it dry and useless. The per
153 
INTELLECTUAL CULTURE.
ception, reason, and judgment, require a long
course of vigorous exercise and severe training,
in order to lay a solid foundation of character.
I shall leave this subject here, without suggesting any particular means of cultivating the
mind, leaving you to apply the principles here
laid down  to your ordinary studies.   But  in
several subsequent chapters, I shall have some
reference to what I have said here.
154 
155
CHAPTER XVI.
READING occupies a very important place in
education. It is one of the principal means of
treasuring up knowledge. It is, therefore, highly
necessary that a taste for reading should be early
cultivated. But a mere taste for reading, uncontrolled by intelligent principle, is a dangerous
appetite. It may lead to ruinous consequences.
The habit of reading merelyfor amusement, is a
dangerous habit. Reading for amusement furnishes a constant temptation for reading what is
injurious.   It promotes,  also, an unproftable
manner of reading. Reading in a hasty and
cursory manner, without exercising your own
thoughts upon what you read, induces a bad
habit of mind. To profit by reading depends,
not so much on the quantity which is read, as
upon the manner in which it is read. You may
read a great deal, in a gormandizing way, as
the glutton consumes food, and yet be none the
better, but the worse for what you read.
If you would profit by reading, you must, in
READING. 
DANGER OF BAD BOOKS.
the first place, be careful what you read. There
are a multitude of books, pamphlets, periodicals)
and newspapers, in circulation at the present
day, which cannot be read, especially by the
young, without great injury, both to the mind
and heart. If any one should propose to you to
associate with men and women of the lowest and
most abandoned character, you would shrink
from the thought-you would be indignant at
the proposition. But it is not the mere bodily
presence of such characters that makes their society dangerous. It is the communion which
you have with their minds and hearts, in their
conduct and conversation.  But a great portion
of the popular literature of the day is written by
such characters. By reading their writings, you
come  into communion  with their  minds and
hearts, as much as if you were personally in
their company.   In their writings,  the fancies
which fill their corrupt minds, and the false and
dangerous principles which dwell in their depraved hearts, are transferred to paper, to corrupt the unwary reader. Here are, likewise,
glowing descriptions of evil conduct, more fasciDating to the youthful heart than the example
itself would be, because the mischief is artfully
concealed behind the drapery of fine literary
taste, and beautiful language. There are, like
156 
OBJECTS OF READING.
wise, many such writiings, the productions of
persons of moral lives, but of corrupt principles,
which are equally dangerous. You would not
associate with a person whom you knew to be
an unprincipled character, even though he might
be outwardly moral.   He would  be the more
dangerous, because you would be less on your
guard. If it is dangerous to keep company with
persons of bad character or bad principles, it is
much more so to keep company with bad books.
I have treated at large on the subject of novel
reading, and other objectionable writings, in my
"YouIng Lady's Guide;"  and to that I must
refer you, for my reasons, more at length, for
condemning such reading. I shall here only
suggest, for the regulation of your reading, a
few simple rules.
1. ALWVAYS HAVE SOME DEFINITE OBJECT IN
VIEW, IN YOUR READING. - While pursuing your
education, you will be so severely taxed with
hard stu(ly, that reading merely for diversion or
amuseinent does not furnish the relaxation which
you need. It keeps the body idle and the mind
still in exercise; whereas, the diversion which
you need, is something that will exercise the
body and relax the mind. If your object is diversion, then it is better to seek it in useful labor,
sprightly amusements, or healthful walks. I can
14
157 
158      READING FOR AMUSEMENT.
think of nothing more injurious to the young
than spending the hours in which they are released from study, bending over novels, or the
light literature of our trashy periodicals. Not
only is the health seriously injured by such means,
but the mind loses its vigor. The high stimulus
applied to the imagination creates a kind of
mental intoxication, which renders study insipid
and irksome. But reading is an important part
of education, and some time should be devoted
to it. Instead of mere amusement, however,
there are higher objects to be aimed at. These
are, 1st, to store the mind with useful knowledge; 2d, to cultivate a correct taste; 3d, to
make salutary impressions upon the heart. For
the first, you may read approved works on all
the various branches of knowledge; as history, biography, travels, science, and religious
truth.   For the second,  you  may read such
works of imagination and literary taste as are
perfectly free from objection, on the score of
religion and morality,- and these but sparingly
at your age; for the third, such practical works
of piety as you will find in the Sabbath school
library. But, for all these purposes, the Bible
is the great Book of books. It contains history, biography, poetry, travels, and doctrinal
and practical essays. Any plan of reading will 
MORAL INTOXICATION.
be essentially defective, which does not contemplate the daily reading of the Bible. You ought
to calculate on reading it through, in course,
every year of your life.
2. BE EXCEEDINGLY CAREFIUL WHAT YOU READ.
-Do not take up a book, paper, or periodical,
that happens to fall in your way, because you
have nothing else to read   By so doing, you
will expose yourself to great evils. But, though
a book be not decidedly objectionable, it may
not be worth reading. There are so many good
books, at the present day, that it is not worth
while to spend time over what is of little value;
and it is better to read the Bible alone, than to
spend time over a poor book. Avoid, especially,
the fictitious stories that you will find in newspapers and popular magazines. They are generally the worst species of fiction, and tend
strongly to induce a vitiated taste, and an appetite for novel-reading. If you once become accustomed to such reading, you will find it produce a kind of moral intoxication, so that you
will feel as uneasy without it, as the drunkard
without his cups, or the smoker without his pipe.
It is much the safer way for young people to be
wholly directed by their parents, (or their teachers, if away from home,) in the choice of their
reading. Make it a rule never to read any book,
159 
THINK AS YOU READ.
pamphlet, or periodical, till you have first aster.
tained from your parents, teachers, or minister,
that it is safe, and worth reading.
3. THIINK AS YOU READ. -Do not drink in
the thoughts of others as you drink water; but
examine them, and see whether they carry conviction to your own mind; and if they do, think them
over, till they become incorporated with your
own  thoughts, part and parcel of your own mind.
Lay up facts and principles ill your memory.
Let the beautiful thloug,hts and striking ideas
that you discover be treasured up as so many
gems and precious stones, to enrich and beautify
your own mind. And let your heart be im.
pressed and benefited by the practical thoughts
you find addressed to it.
4. REDEEIM  TIME FOR  READING. - Although
it would be improper for you to take the time
appropriated for study, or to rob yourself of
needful diversion, yet you may, by careful economy, save some time every day for reading. A
great deal of time is thrown away by the indulgence of dilatory habits, or consumed in a careless, sauntering vacancy. If you follow system,
and have a time for every thing, and endeavor to
do every thing with despatch, in its proper sea.
son, you will have time enough for every thing
that is necessary to be done.
160 
161
CHAPTER XVII.
WRITING.
WRITING, or COMPOSING, is one of the best
exercises of the mind. It is, however, I am
sorry to say, an exercise to which young people
generally show  a great aversion.   One reason,
perhaps, is, that, to write well, requires hard
thinking. But I am inclined to think the chief
reason is, that the difficulties of writing are
magnified. There is, also, a want of wisdom
in the choice of subjects.   Themes  are frequently selected for first efforts, which require
deep, abstract thinking; and the mind not being
able to grasp them, there is a want of thought,
which  discourages new  beginners.   The first
attempts should be made upon subjects that are
easy and well understood; such as a well-studied
portion of history, a well-known story, or a
description of some familiar scene; the object
being to clothe it in suitable language, and to
make such reflections upon it as occur to the
mind. Writing is but thinking on paper; and
14* 
DIRECTIONS.
if you have any thoughts at all, you may commit
them to writing.
Another fault in young beginners is, viewing
composition as a task imposed on them by their
teachers, and making it their chief object to
cover a certain quantity of paper with writing;
and so the sooner this task is discharged the
better. But you must have a higher aim than
this, or you will never be a good writer. Such
efforts are positively injurious.   They promote
a careless, negligent  habit of  writing.   One
well-written composition, which costs days of
hard study, is worth more, as a discipline of
mind, than a hundred off-hand, careless productions.   Indeed, one good, successful effort
will greatly diminish every succeeding effort,
and make writing easy. You will do well, then,
first to select your subject some time before
you write, and think it over and study it, and
have your ideas arranged in your mind before
you begin.   Then  write with  care, selecting
the best expressions, and clothing your thoughts
in the best dress.   Then carefully and repeatedly read it over, and correct it, studying every
sentence, weighing every expression, and making
every possible improvement. Then lay it aside
awhile, and afterwards copy it, with such im
162 
LETTER-WRITING.
provements as occur at the time. Then lay it
aside, and after some days revise it again, and
see what further improvements and corrections
you can make, and copy it a second time. If you
repeat this process half a dozen times, it will be
all the better. Nor will the time you spend upon
it be lost. One such composition will conquer
all the difficulties in the way of writing; and
every time  you  repeat such an effort, you will
find your mind expanding, and your thoughts
multiplying, so that, very soon, writing will become an easy and delightful exercise; and you
will, at length, be able to make the first draught so
nearly perfect that it will not need copying. But
you never will make a good writer by off-hand,
careless efforts.
Letter-writinig, however, is a very different affair. Its beauty consists in its simplicity, ease, and
freedom from formality. Tihe best rule that can
be given for letter-writing is, to imagine the person present whom you are addressing, and write
just what you would say in conversation.  All attempts at effort, in letter-writing, are out of place.
The detail of particulars, such as your correspondent would be interested to know, and the
expression of your own feelings, are the great
excellences of this kind of writing.   Nothing
163 
LETTER-WRITING.
disappoints a person more than to receive a letter full of fine sentiments, or didactic matter,
such as he might find in books, while the very
information  which  he desired is left out, and
perhaps an apology at the close for not giving
the news, because the sheet is full.   In a letter, we want information of the welfare of our
friends, together with the warm gush of feeling
which fills their hearts. These are the true excellences of epistolary writing.
164 
165
CHAPTER XVII
INDOLENCE.
THERE  is no  greater enemy to improvement
than aii indolent spirit. An aversion to effort
paralyzes every noble desire, and defeats every
attempt at advancement.    If you are naturally
indolent, you must put on resolution to overcome it, and strive against it with untiring vigilance. There is not a single point, in the process of education, at which this hydra-headed
monster will not meet you.   "The slothful man
saith there is a lion without, I shall be slain in
the street." There is always a lion in the way,
when slothful spirits are called upon to make
any exertion. "I can't," is the sovereign arbiter of their destiny. It prevents their attempting any thing difficult or laborious. If required
to write a composition, they can't think of any
thing to write about.  The  Latin lesson is difficult; this word they can't find; that sentence
they can't read. The sums in arithmetic are so
hard, they can't do them. And so this lion in
the way defeats every thing. But those who ex 
166 INDOLENCE AND ACTIVITY CONTRASTED.
pec' ever to be any thing, must not suffer such
a word as can't in their vocabulary.
It is the same with labor. The indolent dread
all exertion. When requested to do any thing,
they have something else to do first, which their
indolence has left unfinished; or they have some
other reason to give why they should not attempt
it.  But if nothing else will do, the sluggard's
excuse, "I can't," is always at hand. Were it
not for the injury to them, it would be far more
agreeable to do, one's self, what is desired of
them, than to encounter the painful scowls that
clothe the brow, when they think of making an
effort. Solomon has described this disposition
to the life: -" The  slothful man  putteth his
hand in his bosom: it grieveth him to take it
out again."
But indolence is a source of great misery.
There are none so happy as those who are always active. I do not mean that they should
give themselves no relaxation from severe effort.
But relaxation does not suppose idleness. To sit
and fold one's hands, and do nothing, serves no
purpose. Change of employment is the best recreation. And from the idea of employment, I
would not exclude active and healthful sports,
provided they are kept within due bounds. But
to sit idly staring at vacancy is intolerable 
IDLENESS A WASTE OF LIFE.
There is no enjoyment in it. It is a stagnation
of body and mind. An indolent person is, to
the active and industrious, what a stagnant pool
is to the clear and beautiful lake. Employment
contributes greatly to enjoyment. It invigorates
the body, sharpens the intellect, and promotes
cheerfulness of spirits; while indolence makes
a torpid body, a vacant mind, and a peevish, discontented spirit.
Indolence is a great waste of existence. Suppose you live to the age of seventy years, and
squander in idleness one hour a day, you will
absolutely throw away about three years of your
existence. And if we consider that this is taken
from the waking hours of the day, it should be
reckoned six years. Are you willing, by idleness, to shorten your life six years? Then take
care of the moments. Never fritter away time
in doing nothing. Whatever you do, whether
study, work, or play, enter into it with spirit
and energy; and never waste your time in sauntering and doing nothing.   "Whatsoever  thy
hand findeth to do, do it with thy might; for
there is no work, nor device, nor knowledge,
nor wisdom, in the grave, whither thou goest."
167
; 
168
CHAPTER XIX.
ON DOING ONE THING AT A TIME.
WHAT is worth doing at all is worth the
undivided attention; but Julia can never be
satisfied to do but one thing at a time. By attempting to read or to play while dressing, she
consumes double the time that is necessary.
She reads at the table, and, in consequence, keeps
the table waiting for her to finish her meal. She
will turn her work into play, and thus slight her
work, and have it to do over again. By the time
she gets fairly interested in her lesson, her
attention is arrested by something else, and she
stops to look or listen. Or she insensibly falls
into a reverie, and is engaged in building aerial
castles, till something happens to call back her
spirit from the fairy world. This will perhaps
be repeated a dozen times in the study of one
lesson. The consequence is, the lesson is acquired but imperfectly, while twice the needful
-time has been spent upon it. At the same time,
nothing else has been accomplished. This is
what I call busy idleness. 
SYSTEM.
The true way to accomplish the most, and to
do it in the best manner, is to confine the attention strictly to the thing in hand, and to bend all
the energies of the mind to that one object, aiming to do it in the best possible manner, in the
least possible time. By adopting this principle,
and acting upon it, you will be surprised to find
how much more expeditiously you will accomplish what you undertake, and how much better
it will be done. It is indispensable to success
in any undertaking.
Closely connected with this subject, is the
systematic division of time. Where there is no
system, one duty will jostle another, and much
time will be wasted in considering what to do
next; all of which would be avoided, by having
a regular routine of duties, one coming after the
other in regular order, and so having a set time
for each. This cannot be carried out perfectly,
because there will every day be something to do
that was not anticipated. But it may be so far
pursued as to avoid confusion and waste of
time.
15
169 
170
CHAPTER XX
ON FINISHING WHAT IS BEGUN.
BEGINNING things and leaving them unfinished,
exerts a bad influence in the formation of character. If it becomes a habit, it will make you
so fickle that no one will put confidence in
you. There is Jane Henderson. If you go into
her room, you will find her table strewed, and
her drawers filled, with compositions begun and
not completed; scraps of verses, but no poem
finished; a dozen letters begun, but not one
completed; bits of lace commenced, and laid
aside; a dozen different squares of patch-work
begun, but not one full square among them all.
She wants energy and perseverance to finish
what she begins; and thus she wastes her time in
frivolous pursuits. She is very ready to begin;
but before she has completed what is begun, she
thinks of something else that she wishes to do;
or she grows weary of what she is upon, and so
leaves it, and tries something else. She lives to
no purpose, for she completes nothing; and she
might as well do nothing, as to complete nothing. 
FINISH WHAT YOU BEGIN.
If you indulge this practice, it will grow upon
you, till you will become weak, irresolute, fickle,
and good for pothing. To avoid this, begin
nothing that is not worth finishing, or that you
have not good reason to think you will be able
to finish. But when you have begun, resolutely
persevere till you have finished. There is a
strong temptation, with the young, to abandon
an undertaking, because of the difficulties in the
way; but, if you persevere, and conquer the
difficulties you meet with, you will gain confidence in yourself, and the next time, perseverance in your undertakings will be more easy.
You may, however, make a mistake, and begin
what you cannot or ought not to perform; in
which case, perseverance would only increase
the evil.
171 
172
CHAPTER XXI.
CHOICE OF SOCIETY, AND FORMATION OF
FRIENDSHIPS.
CHARACTER is formed under a great variety
of influences. Sometimes a very trifling circumstance gives direction to the whole course of
one's life. And every incident that occurs, from
day to day, is exerting a silent, gradual influence, in the formation of your character.  Among
these influences, none are more direct and powerful than that exerted upon us by the companions with whom we associate; for we insensibly fall into their habits. This is especially
true in childhood and youth, when the character
is plastic, like soft wax,- easily impressed.
But we cannot avoid associating, to some extent, with those whose influence is injurious. It
is necessary, then, for us to distinguish society
into general and particular. General society is
that with which we are compelled to associate,
Particular society is that which we choose for
ourselves. In school, and in all public places,
you are under the necessity of associating some 
INTIMATE FRIENDSHIPS.
what with all.  But those whom you meet, in
such circumstances, you are not compelled to
make intimate friends. You may be courteous
and polite to all, wherever and whenever you
meet them, and yet maintain such a prudent
reserve, and cautious deportment, as not to be
much exposed to contamination, if they should
not prove suitable companions.
But every one needs intimate friends; and it
is necessary that these should be well chosen.
A bad friend may prove your ruin. You should
therefore be slow and cautious in the formation
of intimacies and friendships. Do not be suddenly taken with any one, and so enter into a
hasty friendship; for you may be mistaken,
and soon repent of it. There is much force in
the old adage, "All is not gold that shines."
A pleasing exterior often conceals a corrupt
heart. Before you enter into close intimacies
or friendships, study the characters of the persons whom you propose to choose for companions. Watch their behavior and conversation;
and if you discover any bad habits indulged, or
any thing that indicates a want of principle, let
them not become your companions.   If you
discover that they disregard any of the commandments of God, set them down as unsafe
associates. They will not only be sure to lead
15 *
173 
174      FORMATION OF FRIENDSHIPS.
you astray, but you can place no dependence
upon their fidelity  If they will break one of
God's commands, they will another; and you
can  put  no confidence in them.   But even
where you discover no such thing, ask the opin ion of your parents respecting theIn before you
choose them as your friends. Yet, while you
are in suspense about the matter, treat them
courteously and kindly.   But when you have
determined to seek their friendship, do not impose your friendship on them against their will.
Remember that they have the same right as
yourself to the choice of their friends; and
they may see some objection to the formation
of a friendship  with  yourself.   Be delicate,
therefore, in your advances, and give them an
opportunity to come half way.   A  friendship
cautiously and slowly formed will be much more
likely to last than one that is formed in haste.
But let the number of your intimate and con
fidential friends be small. It is better to have
a few select, choice, and warm friends, than to
have a great number, less carefully chosen,
whose attachment is less warm and ardent. But
you must not refuse to associate at all with the
mass of the society where you belong; especially, if you live in the country. You must
meet them kindly and courteously, on all occua 
BE COURTEOUS TO ALL.
sions where the society in general in which you
move is called together. You must not affect
exclusiveness, nor confine yourself to the company of your particular friends, at such times.
But be careful that you do not expose yourself
to evil influences.
You ought not, at present, to form any intimate friendships with the other sex.   Such
friendships, at your age, are dangerous; and
if not productive of any serious present evils,
they will probably be subjects of regret when
you come to years of maturity; for attachments
may be formed that your judgment will then
disapprove.
175 
176
CHAPTER XXII.
ORNAMENTAL EDUCATION.
NATURE abounds with profusion of ornament.
The trees of the forest are crowned with beauty.
The flowers of the field are arrayed in the most
gorgeous combination of beautiful colors, sur.
passing the imitation of man. The bowels of
the earth enclose the richest gems; and even its
dens and caverns are garnished with beautiful
workmanship, far exceeding the highest achievements of art. The animate creation, also, displays the same love of beauty. The wild beasts
are arrayed in the richest furs.   The fowls of
the air, and even the serpent that crawls on the
earth, are adorned with a profusion of rich and
beautiful colors. And man, the crowning work
of the Creator, is adorned with symmetry of
shape and beauty of features. But, above all,
the mind itself has one entire faculty for ornanient. The imagination is the flower of the
mind, which crowns the intellectual tree with
beauty and glory.
The voice of nature, therefore, forbids us to 
SOLID BRANCHES FMST'.
banish ornament from our systems of education.
But equally does the same voice forbid us to
make ornament the chief end of education. It
is neither the beginning nor end of it. The
rose does not grow on the root of the tree, nor
does the plant, at its first growth, display its gorgeous colors.   The trunk of the tree, the stem
of the plant, the branches and the leaves, all
precede the flower.   Those  are the substantials, this is the ornament. The former must be
matured before the latter can appear. So, likewise, the substantial parts of education must take
precedence of the ornamental. And the flower
itself is not merely nor mainly for beauty; but it
is in order to fruit. So the ornamental branches
of education, in their proper places, are to be
pursued with an eye to usefulness. However,
the flower must be a long time budding before
it blooms; and so may the ornamental branches
of education be commenced and pursued a long
time before they arrive at such perfection as to
dispray their beauty, or discover their usefulness.
The solid branches, then, are to occupy the
first place, and receive the chief attention. But
the ornamental branches, at their proper time
and in their proper places, are not to be neglected. Young people, however, are inclined to
177
0 
178    MUSIC, DRAWING, AND PAINTING.
give them an undue importance, and disposed to
pursue them to the neglect of that which is solid
and substantial. David compared the daughters
of Jerusalem to "corner stones, polished after
the similitude of a palace."   But  the stones
must be quarried and beaten out into the proper
shape, before they can be polished. Polishing is
the last work. This shows the place that is to be
given to ornamental education. No one can re   ceive an ornamental education merely. There
must first be a solid superstructure; after which
comes the polish. There are, however, some or  namental branches, which need to be pursued a
long time, before they arrive at any degree of
perfection. Such are music, drawing, and paint*    ing.   They  cultivate particular faculties; and
this cultivation must necessarily be slow in its
progress. Music, as a science, is perhaps as
useful a discipline of mind as any other study.
The cultivation of the voice and of the ear, is
also of great importance. So, also, is the skil  ful use of the fingers, in playing on instruments;
which is much more easily acquired in childhood
than at any other period of life.
Drawing and painting cultivate the eye, and
impart a quick perception of beauty. They also
give the power of transferring to paper the im  age imprinted on the mind through the sense of 
ONE-SIDED EDUCATION.
sight.   These  branches  are not merely ornamental, but often highly useful.
A good education is that process by which all
the faculties and powers of the mind are developed in due proportion.   That  is a one-sided
education which cultivates highly some particular faculties, while it neglects others. Such a
mind will be deformed and out of proportion.
To produce a well-balanced mind, the solid parts
of education must receive the chief attention,
because they constitute the very foundation of
character. But it is a great mistake to conclude
that they are all that is necessary, especially for
females. By an exclusive attention to the solid
branches, and that in a high degree, the character is rendered too masculine. There is need of
the softening influence of those pursuits which
are designed  chiefly to embellish.   And this
should not be forgotten, in the pursuit of letters.
The imagination and the taste should be cultivated, within proper bounds, so as to give symmetry of character.
Taste is, perhaps, not a distinct faculty by itself, but rather a combination of the faculties,
concentrating them upon an object, and giving
a nice and quick perception of beauty or deformity. It is exercised with respect to language, in discerning its correctness and beautv
179 
TASTE.
or its incorrectness and deformity, without any
process of reasoning or any comparison with
rules of grammar or rhetoric. In a similar manner, it detects and points out, at a glance, the
beauty or the deformity, the excellences or defects, of a picture or a landscape, or whatever
object it beholds. This faculty, or combination
of faculties, is cultivated by the study of music,
drawing, painting, &c., with respect to the eye
and ear; and in the study of language, with
respect to the conceptions of the mind, and the
manner of expressing them. I know of nothing,
in the whole process of education, which contributes more to personal enjoyment than the
cultivation of a correct taste.   It also greatly
recommends one to the regard of others. And,
if chastened with piety, it may contribute to devotional feeling, by increasing our admiration of
the beauties of creation, and through them leading us to adore the wisdom of the Creator.
1180 
181
CIIAPTER XXIII.
ON AMUSEMENTS.
TilE human system is formed for alternate
labor and rest, and not for incessant activity;
and to provide for this, the night follows the day
and the Sabbath the six days of labor. But not
only is rest necessary after labor, but activity
in a different direction. When you are carrying a burden of any kind, you find relief in a
change of position. A poor boy was employed
in turning a wheel, by which he was enabled to
do something for his mother. A lady, observing him steadily employed at what appeared to
be a very laborious occupation, inquired whether
he did not get tired. He replied that he was
often very tired. "And what do you do when
you are tired?"  she further inquired.   " O.,"
said he,  " I take the other hand."   Ite had
learned that a change of position gave him rest.
Neither the mind nor the body is capable of
being incessantly exerted, in one directi(on, without injury. Like the bent bow, they will lose
their elasticity. The body, after labor, and the
16 
RELAXATION NECESSARY.
mind, after study, need unbending, especially in
youth, while the muscles of the body have not
acquired maturity or solidity, and the powers of
the mind are yet developing. At this period of
life relaxation and amusement are especially necessary; and those young persons who eschew
all play, and confine themselves to books and labor, must, in the natural course of things, suffer
both in health and spirits.  Healthful play is
natural to the young, throughout the whole animal creation. The lamb, that emblem of innocence, is seen sporting in the fields, blithely
bounding over the hills, as if desirous of expressing a grateful sense of its Creator's goodness. There is no more harm in the play of
children than in the skipping of the lambs. It
is necessary to restore the bent bow to its natural elasticity. It is the voice of nature, which
cannot be hushed.
But having said so much, it is necessary to
guard against improprieties and excesses in
amusements.    And  yet,  to  determine what
amusements are to be allowed, and what condemned, is no easy matter; for, while some
kinds of amusement are evil in their own nature,
anrd necessarily injurious, others are evil and
injurious only on account of their excess, or of
-the!:gm'lner in which they are pursued, or of the
182 
TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS.
evils that are associated with them. My object
is, not so much to point out what amusements
are wrong, as to give you some rules by which
you can judge for yourself.
I. Never engage in recreation at an unsuitable time. - To neglect duity for the sake of
amusement is not only wrong, but it will exert
a bad influence upon your character. It tends
to produce an immoderate love of amusement,
and to break up all orderly and regular habits.  Let your invariable rule be, "BUsINESS
FIRST, AND THEN PLEASURE."  Never suffer any
kind of amusement to break in upon the time
appropriated to labor or study.
II. Never do any thing that is disapproved
by your parents or guardians.- They desire
your happiness, and will not deprive you of any
enjoyment, unless they see good reason for it.
They may see evil where  you would not per ceive it.  They  regard your highest welfare.
They look beyond the present, to see what influ ence these things will have on your character
and happiness hereafter. They are also set over
you of the Lord; and it is your duty not only to
submit to their authority, but to reverence their
counsel.
III. Engage in no amusement which is dis.
approved by the most devoted and consisted
18I3 
184       TESTS OF AMUSEMENT'S.
Christians of your acquaintance.  I do not mean
the few cross and austere persons, who always
wear an aspect of gloom, and cannot bear to
see the countenances of youth lighted up with
the smile of innocent hilarity.   But  I mean
those Christians who wear an aspect of devout
cheerfulness, and maintain a holy and consist ent life. Their judgment is formed under the
influence of devotional feeling, and will not be
likely to be far from what is just and right.
IV. Do nothing which you would be afraid
God  should see. -There  is no darkness  nor
secret place, where you can hide yourself from
his all-searching eye.   Contemplate  the Lord
Jesus Christ as walking by your side, as he truly
is in spirit; and do nothing which you would
be unwilling that he should witness, if he were
with you in his bodily presence.
V. Do nothing the preparation for which unfits you for religious duty. - If an amusement in
which you are preparing to engage so takes up
your mind as to interfere with your devotional
exercises; if your thoughts run away from the
Bible that you are reading to anticipated pleas
ures; or if those pleasures occupy your thoughts
in prayer; you may be sure you are going
too far.
VI. Engage in nothing on whizch yjou canaot 
TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS.
first ask God's blessing. Do you desire to engage
in any thing in which you would not wish to be
blessed and prospered? But God only can bless
and prosper us in any undertaking. If, therefore, your feelings would be shocked to think of
asking God's blessing on any thing in which you
would engage, it must be because your conscience tells you it is wrong.
VII. Engage in no amusement which unfits
you for devotional exercises. - If, on returning
from a scene of amusement, you feel no disposition to pray, you may be sure something is
wrong. You had better not repeat the same
again.
VIII. Engage in nothing which tends to dissipate serious impressions.- Seriousness, and a
sense of eternal things, are perfectly consistent
with serenity and cheerfulness. But thoughtless
mirth, or habitual levity, will drive away such
impressions. Whatever you find has this effect
is dangerous to your soul.
IX. Reject such amusements as are generally
associated with evil.-If the influences which
surround any practice are bad, you may justly
conclude that it is unsafe, without stopping to
inquire into the nature of the practice itself.
Games of chance are associated with gambling
and dissipation; therefore, I conclude that they
.16
18% 
TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS.
cannot be safely pursued, even for amusement.
Dancing, also, is associated with balls, with late
hours, high and unnatural excitement, and dissipation; it is therefore unsafe. You may know
the character of any amusement by the company in which it is found.
X. Engage in nothing which necessarily leads
you into temptation.- You pray every day, (or
ought to,) "lead us not into temptation." But
you cannot offer up this prayer sincerely, and
then run needlessly in the way of temptation.
And if you throw yourself in the way of it, you
have no reason to expect that God will deliver
you from it.
XI. If you engage in any recreation, and return from it with a wounded conscience, set it
down as evil.- A clear conscience is too valuable to be bartered for a few moments of pleasure; and if you find your conscience accusing
you for having engaged in any amusement, never
repeat the experiment.
XII. Practise no amusement which offends
your sense of propriety. -A delicate sense of
propriety, in regard to outward deportment, is
in manners what conscience is in morals, and
taste in language. It is not any thing that we
arrive at by a process of reasoning, but what the
mind as it were instinctively perceives   It re
186 
A SENSE OF PROPRIETY.
sembles the sense of taste; and by it one will
notice any deviation from what is proper, before
he has time to consider wherein the impropriety
consists. There is a beauty and harmony in
what is proper and right, which instantly strikes
the mind with pleasure. There is a fitness of
things, and an adaptation of one thing to another,
in one's deportment, that strikes the beholder
with sensations of pleasure, like those experienced on beholding the harmonious and beautiful blending of the seven colors of the rainbow.
But when propriety is disregarded, the impression is similar to what we might suppose would
be produced, if the colors of the rainbow
crossed each other at irregular angles, now blending together in one, and now separating entirely,  producing  irregularity  and  confusion.
The sensation produced upon the eye would
be unpleasant, if not insufferable.   Among the
amusements which come under this rule are
the vulgar plays that abound in low company,
especially such as require the payment of forfeits, to be imposed by the victor. In such
cases, you know not to what mortification you
may  be  subjected.   Frolics, in general, come
under this head, where rude and boisterous
plays are practised, and often to a late hour of
the night, when all sense of propriety and even
of courtasy is often forgotten.
187 
'88   THINGS OF DOUBTFUL PROPRIETY.
XIII. Engage in nothing of doubtfulpropriety.
-The apostle Paul teaches that it is wrong to
do any thing the propriety of which we doubt;
oecause, by doing that which we are not fully
persuaded is right, we violate our conscience.
It is always best to keep on the safe side. It
you were walking near the crater-of a volcano,
you would not venture on ground where there
wvas any danger of breaking through, and falling
into the burning lake. You would keep on the
ground where it was safe and sure. And so we
should do, in regard to all questions of right and
wrong.  Never venture where the ground  trenbles under your feet
XIV. Do nothing which you will remember
with regret on your dying bed. -It is well always to keep death in view; it has a good
effect upon our minds. The death-bed always
brings with it pains and sorrows enough. It is
a sad thing to make work for repentance at such
an hour.   That is an honest hour.  Then we
shall view things in their true light. Ask yourself, then, before entering into any scene of
amusement, how it will appear to you when
you come to look back upon it from your dying bed.
XV. Do nothing in the midst of which you
would be afraid to meet death. -When prepar 
RIDING WITH A CORPSE.
ing for a scene of pleasure, how do you know
but you may be cut down in the midst of it?
Sudden death is so common that it is folly to
be in any place or condition in which we are
not prepared to meet it. Many persons have
been cut down in the midst of scenes of gayety,
and the same may occur again. A man in Germany was sitting at the gaming table. His card
won  a thousand ducats.   The  dealer handed
over the money, and inquired how he would continue the game. The man made no reply. He
was examined, and found to be a corpse! Similar scenes have occurred in the ball-room. In
the midst of the merry dance, persons have been
called suddenly out of time into eternity. A
gentleman and lady started in a sleigh, to ride
some distance to a ball, in a cold winter's night.
Some time before reaching the place, the lady
was observed to be silent. On driving up, the
gentleman called to her, but no answer was returned.   A light was procured, and he  discov
ered, to his amazement, that he had been riding
with a corpse! At no moment of life are we
exempt from sudden death. He who holds us
in his hand has a thousand ways of extinguishing our life in a moment. He can withhold the
breath which he gave; he can stop the vital
pulsation instantly; or he can break one of the
189 
THE.JUDGMENT.
thousand parts of the intricate machinery of
which our  mortal bodies are composed.   No
skill can provide against it.   We  ought not,
therefore, to trust ourselves, for a single moment,
in any place or condition where we are unwil
ling to meet death.
XVI. Do nothing for which you will be afraid
to answer at the bar of God.- There every secret thing will be revealed. What was done in
the darkness will be judged in open day.  "Rejoice, 0 young man, in thy youth; and let thy
heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth; and
walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight
of thine eyes: but know thou that for all these
things God will bring thee into judgment." A
young man, on leaving home to enter the army,
was supplied with a small Bible, which, though
a thoughtless youth, he always carried in his
pocket.   On one occasion, after a battle, he
took out his Bible, and observed that there was
a bullet hole in the cover.   His first impulse
was, to turn over the leaves, and read the verse
on which the ball rested. It was the passage
just quoted.   It brought before his mind  all
the scenes of mirth and sinful pleasure in which
he had been engaged, and pressed upon him the
fearful truth, that for all of them he was to be
brought into judgment.   It was the means of
190 
TESTS OF AMUSEMENTS.
awakening him to a sense of his condition, and
led to a change of heart and life. And why
should not the same solemn impression rest
upon your mind, with respect to all scenes of
pleasure, and lead you carefully to avoid whatever you would not willingly meet at that awful
tribunal?
If you apply these tests to the various amusements that are in vogue among young people,
you may readily discern what you can safely
pursue, and what you must sternly reject. It
will lead you, especially, to detect the evils of
all theatrical performances, balls, cards, and dancing parties, country frolics, and all things of
a like nature. But it will not deprive you of
one innocent enjoyment. A girl, ten or twelve
years old, made a visit to a companion about
her own age. Both of them were hopefully pious.
On returning home, she told her mother she
was sure Jane was a Christian.   "Why do you
think so, my daughter?" inquired the mother.
"0,"  said the daughter,  "she  plays  like a
Christian."   In her diversions she carried out
Christian principles, and manifested a Christian
temper.   This is the true secret of innocent
recreation; and it cuts off all kinds of amusement that cannot be pursued in a Christian-like
manner.
191 
CHAPTER XXIV.
GOVERNMENT OF THE TONGUE.
THE apostle James says, the tongue is an
unruly member, and that it is easier to control
a horse or a ship, or even to tame wild beasts
and serpents, than to govern the tongue. And,
though a very little member, it is capable of
doing  immense  mischief.   He  even likens it
to a fire. A very small spark, thrown into a
heap of dry shavings, in a wooden house, in a
great city, will make a terrible fire. It may
burn up the whole city. So a very few words,
carelessly spoken by an ungoverned tongue, may
set a wvhole neighborhood on fire. You cannot,
therefore, be too careful how you employ your
tongue.   It is of the  highest importance to
your character and usefulness, that you early
acquire the habit of controlling this unruly
member. For the purpose of aiding you in this,
I shall give a few simple rules.
RULES FOR GOVERNING THE TONGUE.
I. Thtink before you speak. -Many person,
open their mouths, and set their tongues a-going
192 
TALKING NONSENSE.
like the clapper of a wind-mill, as though the
object was, to see how many words could be
uttered in a given time, without any regard to
their quality, - whether sense or nonsense,
whether good, bad, or indifferent. A tongue,
trained up in this way, will never be governed,
and must become a source of great mischief.
But accustom yourelf, before you speak, to
consider whether what you are going to say
is worth speaking, or whether it can do any
mischief.   If you  cultivate  this  habit, your
mind will speedily acquire an activity, that will
enable you to make this consideration without
waiting so long before answering your companions as to be observed; and it will impose a salu-.
tary restraint upon your loquacity; for you will
find others often taking the lead of conversation instead of yourself, by seizing upon the
pause that is made by your consideration. This
will be an advantage to you, in two ways. It
will give you something better to say, and will
diminish the quantity. You will soon perceive
that, though you say less than some of your
companions, your words have more weight.
II. Never allow yourself to talk nonsense.The habit of careless, nonsensical talking, is
greatly averse to the government of the tongue.
It accustoms it to speak at random, without
193
17 
JOKING
regard to consequences.   It often leads to the
utterance of what is not strictly true, and thus
insensibly diminishes the regard for truth. It
hardens the heart, and cherishes a trifling, careless spirit. Moreover, if you indulge this habit,
your conversation will soon become silly and
insipid.
III. Do not allow yourself in the habit of
JOKING with your companions.-  This tends to
cultivate severe sarcasm, which is a bad habit of
the tongue. And, if you indulge it, your strokes
will be too keen for your companions to bear;
and you will lose their friendship.
IV. Always speak the truth.-There  is no
evil habit, which the tongue can acquire, more
wicked and mischievous than that of speaking
falsehood.   It is in itself very wicked;  but it
is not more wicked than mischievous. If all
were liars, there could be no happiness; because
all confidence would be destroyed, and no one
would trust another. It is very offensive to God,
who is a God of truth, and who has declared
that all liars shall have their part in the lake
that burns with fire and brimstone. It is a great
affront and injury to the person that is deceived
by it. Many young persons think nothing of
deceiving their companions, in sport; but they
will find that the habit of speaking what is not
194 
SPEAKING THE TRUTH.
true, even in sport, besides being intrinsically
wrong, will so accustom them to the utterance
of falsehood, that they will soon lose that dread
of a lie which used to fortify thenm against it.
The habit of exaggeration, too, is a great enem;
to truth. Where this is indulged, the practice
of uttering falsehood, without thought or consideration, will steal on insensibly. It is necessary, therefore, in detailing circumstances, to
state them accurately, precisely as they occurred,
in order to cultivate the habit of truth-telling.
Be very particular on this head. Do not allow
yourself so little an inaccuracy, even, as to say
you laid a book on the table, when you put it
on the mantel, or on the window-seat. In relating a story, it is not necessary that you should
state every minute particular, but that what you
do state should be exactly and circumstantially
true. If you acquire this habit of accuracy, it
will not only guard you against the indulgence
of falsehood, but it will raise your character for
truth.   When people come  to learn that they
can depend upon the critical accuracy of whatever you say, it will greatly increase their confidence in you. But if you grow up with the
habit of speaking falsehood, there will be very
little hope of your reformation, as long as you
live. The character that has acquired an habit
195 
TALE-BEARING.
ual disregard of truth is most thoroughly viti ated. This one habit, if indulged and cherished,
and carried with you from childhood to youth,
and from youth upwards, will prove your ruin.
V. Remember that all truth is not to be
spoken at all times. -The habit of uttering all
that you know, at random, without regard to
times and circumstances, is productive of great
mischief. If you accustom your tongue to this
habit, it will lead you into great difficulties.
There are many of our own thoughts, and many
facts that come to our knowledge, that prudence
would require us to keep in our own bosom, because the utterance of them would do mischief.
VI. Never, if you can possibly avoid it, speak
any thing to the disadvantage of another. - The
claims of justice or friendship may sometimes
require you to speak what you know against
others.   You  may be called to testify against
their evil conduct in school, or before a court of
justice; or you may be called to warn a friend
against an evil or designing person. But, where
no such motive exists, it is far better to leave
them to the judgment of others and of God, and
say nothing against them yourself.
VII. Keep your tongue from tale-bearing.There is much said in the Scriptures against
tattling.  "Thou shalt not go up and down as a
196 
TALE-BLARING
tale-bearer, among the children of thy people."
"A tale-bearer revealeth secrets."  "Where no
wood is, the fire goeth out; and where there is
no tale-bearer, the strife ceaseth." Young people are apt to imbibe a taste for neighborhood
gossip, and to delight in possessing family secrets, and in repeating personal matters, neighborhood scandal, &c. But the habit is a bad
one. It depraves the taste and vitiates the character, and often is the means of forming for life
the vicious habit of tale-bearing. And tale-bearers, besides the great mischief they do, are always despised, as mean, mischievous, and contemptible characters.
If you will attentively observe and follow the
foregoing rules, you will acquire such a habit of
governing the tongue, that it will be an easy
matter; and it will give dignity and value to
your character, and make you beloved and es.
teemed, as worthy the confidence of all.
17*
197 
198
CHAPTER XXV.
ON THE ART OF AGREEABLE AND PROFITABLE
CONVERSATION.
THERE is, perhaps, no accomplishment which
will add so much to your character and influence, as the art of conversing agreeably and
well. To do this, however, requires a cultivated
mind, richly stored with a variety of useful information; a good taste; a delicate sense of propriety; a good use of language; and an easy
and fluent expression.
The most of these requisites can be acquired;
and the rest, if naturally deficient, can be greatly
improved. An easy, fluent expression is sometimes a natural talent; but, when not joined with
a good understanding and a cultivated mind, it
degenerates into mere loquacity. But, in order
to be prepared to converse well, you must not
only have your mind well stored, but its contents, if I may so speak, well arranged; so that
you can at any time call forth its resources,
upon any subject, when they are needed.
One of the principal difficulties, in the way of 
HESITANCY.
conversing well, is a hesitancy of speech - -a
difficulty of expressing one's ideas with ease and
grace.  This may arise from various causes.  It
may proceed from affectation- a desire to speak
in fine, showy style.  This will invariably defeat
its object. You can never appear, in the eyes of
intelligent and well-bred people, to be what you
are not. The more simple and unaffected your
style is, provided it be pure and chaste, the better you will appear. Affectation will only make
you  ridiculous.   But the same difficulty may
arise from diffidence, which leads to embarrassment; and embarrassment clouds the memory,
and produces confusion of mind and hesitancy
of speech. This must be overcome by degrees,
by cultivating self-possession, and frequenting
good society. The same difficulty may, likewise, arise from the want of a sufficient command of language to express one's ideas with
ease and fluency. This is to be obtained by
writing; by reading the most pure and classic
authors, such as Addison's Spectator; and by
observing the conversation of well-educated people. In order to have a good supply of wellchosen words at ready command, Mr. Whelpley
recommends selecting from a dictionary several
hundred words, such as are in most common
use, and required especially in ordinary convert
199 
ART OF CONVERSATION.
sation, writing them down, and committing themn
to memory, so as to have them as familiar as the
letters of the alphabet. A professional gentleman informs me, that he has overcome this difficulty by reading a well-written story till it
becomes trite and uninteresting, and then frequently reading it aloud, without any regard to
the story, but only to the language, in order to
accustom the organs of speech to an easy flow
of words.  I have no doubt that such experiments as these would be successful in giving a
freedom and ease of expression, which is often
greatly impeded for want of just the word that is
needed at a given time.
There is no species of information but may be
available to improve and enrich the conversation,
and make it interesting to the various classes
of people. As an example of this, a clergyman
recently informed me that a rich man, who is
engaged extensively in the iron business, but
who is very irreligious, put up with him for the
night The minister, knowing the character of
his guest, directed his conversation to those subjects in which he supposed him to be chiefly
interested. He exhibited specimens of iron ore,
of which he possessed a variety; explained their
different qualities; spoke of the various modes
of manufacturing it; explained the process of
200 
ART OF CONVERSATION.
manufacturing steel, &c.; interspersing his conversation with occasional serious reflections on
the wisdom and goodness of God, in providing
so abundantly the metals most necessary for the
common purposes of life, and thus leading the
man's mind " from Nature up to Nature's God."
The man entered readily into the conversation,
appeared deeply interested, and afterwards expressed his great admiration of the minister.
The man was prejudiced against ministers. This
conversation may so far remove his prejudices
as to open his ear to the truth.  But all this the
minister was enabled to do, by acquainting himself with a branch of knowledge which many
would suppose to be of no use to a minister.
By conversing freely with all sorts of people
upon that which chiefly interests them, you may
not only secure their good-will, but greatly increase you own stock of knowledge. There is
no one so ignorant but he may, in this way, add
something to your general information; and you
may improve the opportunity it gives to impart
useful information, without seeming to do it.
RULES FOR CONVERSATION.
I. Avoid affectation.- Instead of making you
appear to better advantage, it will only expose
you to ridicule.
201 
RULES FOR CONVERSATION.
II. Avoid low expressions.- There is a dialect
peculiar to low people, which you cannot imitate without appearing as if you were yourself
low-bred.
III. Avoidprovincialisms. - There are certain
expressions peculiar to particular sections of the
country. For example, in New England, many
people are in the habit of interlarding their conversation with the phrase, " You see." In Pennsylvania and New York, the same use is made
of " You knovw." And in the West and South,
phrases peculiar to those sections of the country
are still more common and ludicrous. Avoid all
these expressions, and strive after a pure, chaste
and simple style.
IV. Avoid all ungrammatical expressions.
V. Avoid unmeaning exclamations, as, "0
my!"   "0  mercy!" &c.
VI. Never speak unless you have something
to say.-" A word fitly spoken is like apples of
gold in pictures of silver."
VII. Avoid prolixity.- Make your language
concise and perspicuous, and strive not to prolong your speech beyond what is necessary, remembering that others wish to speak as well as
yourself. Be sparing of anecdote; and only resort to it when you have a good illustration of
some subject before the company, or when you
202 
STORY-TELLING.
have a piece of information of general interest.
To tell a story well, is a great art. To be tedious and prolix in story-telling, is insufferable.
To avoid this, do not attempt to relate every
minute particular; but seize upon the grand
points.   Take  the following specimen  of the
relation of the same incident by two different
persons: -" You  see, I got up this morning,
and dressed myself, and came down stairs, and
opened the front door; and 0, if it didn't look
beautiful! For, you see, the sun shone on the
dew,-the dew, you know, that hangs in great
drops on the grass in the morning. Well, as the
sun shone on the dewdrops, it was all sparkling,
like so many diamonds; and it looked so inviting, you see, I thought I must have a walk.
So, you see, I went out into the street, and
got over the fence,- the fence, you know, the
back side of the barn. Well, I got over it, and
walked into the grove, and there I heard the
blue jay, and cock-robin, and ever so many pretty
birds, singing so sweetly. I went along the
foot-path to a place where there is a stump,the great stump, you know, James, by the side
of the path. Well, there, - 0, my! - what should
I see, but a gray squirrel running up a tree!"
How much better the following:- " Early
this morning, just as the sun was peeping over
203 
204      RULES FOR CONVERSATION.
the hill, and the green grass was all over spar.
kling with diamonds, as the sun shone upon the
dewdrops, I had a delightful walk in the grove,
listening to the sweet music of the birds, and
watching the motions of a beautiful gray squirrel, running up a tree, and hopping nimnbly from
branch to branch."  Here is the story, better
told, in less than half the words.
Never specify any particulars which would
readily be understood without. In the relation
of this incident, all the circumstances detailed
in the first specimen, previous to entering the
grove, are superfluous; for if you were in the
grove early in the morning, you could not
get there without getting out of your bed, dressing yourself, opening the door, g)ing into the
street, and getting over the fenice.   The moment you speak of being in the grove early in
the morning, the mind of the hearer supplies all
these preliminaries; and your specifying them
only excites his impatience to get at the point
of your story.  Be careful, also, that you never
relate the same anecdote the second time to the
same company; neither set up a laugh at your
own story.
VIII. Never interrupt others while they are
speaking.  Quietly wait till they have finished
what they have to say, before you reply.   To 
RULES FOR CONVERSATION.
interrupt others in conversation is very unmannerly.
IX. You will sometimes meet with very talk.
ative persons, who are not disposed to give you
a fair chance. Let them talk on. They will
be better pleased, and you will save your words
and your feelings.
X. Avoid, as much as possible, speaking of
yourself. -When  we  meet  a  person who  is
always saying I, telling what he has done, and
how he does things, the impression it gives us
of him is unpleasant.  We say, "He thinks he
knows every thing, and can teach every body.
He is great in his own eyes.  He  thinks more
of himself than of every body else." True politeness leads us to keep ourselves out of view,
and show an interest in other people's affairs.
XI. Endeavor to make your conversation
useful. -Introduce some subject which will be
profitable to the company  you  are in.   You
feel dissatisfied when you retire from company
where nothing useful has been said. But there
is no amusement more interesting, to a sensible person, than intelligent conversation upon
elevated subjects. It leaves a happy impression
upon the mind. You can retire fromn it, and
lay your head upon your pillow with a quiet
conscience
18
205 
206
CHAPTER XXVI
INQUISITIVENESS.
THE inhabitants of New England have the
reputation of being inquisitive to a fault; and
perhaps with some  justice.  This  disposition
grows out of a good trait of character, carried
to an extreme. It comes from a desire after
knowledge. But this desire becomes excessive,
when exercised with reference to matters which
it does not concern us to know. When it leads
us to pry into the concerns of others, from a
mere vain curiosity, it becomes a vice. There
are some people who can never be satisfied, till
they see the inside of every thing. They must
know the why and the wherefore of every thing
they meet with. I have heard an amusing anecdote
of this sort. There was a man who had lost his
nose. A Yankee, seeing him, desired to know
how so strange a thing had happened.   After
enduring his importunity for some time, the
man declared he would tell him, if he would
promise to ask him no more questions; to which
the other agreed. "Well," said the man, "it 
INQUISITIVENESS.
was bit off."   " Ah," replied the Yankee, "I
wish I knew who bit it of!"   This is a fair
specimen of the morbid appetite created by excessive inquisitiveness.
When inquisitiveness goes no farther than a
strong desire to obtain useful information, and
to inquire into the reason of things, or when
it desires information concerning the affairs of
others from benevolent sympathy, then it is a
valuable trait of character. But when the object is to gratify an idle curiosity, it is annoying
to others, and often leads the person who indulges it into serious difficulty. And the more
it is indulged, the more it craves. If you gratify
this disposition till it grows  into a habit, you
will find it very difficult to control.   You will
never be able to let any thing alone. You will
want to look into every drawer in the house;
to open every bundle that you see; and never
be satisfied till you have seen the inside of every
thing. This will lead you into temptation. It
can hardly be supposed that one who is so anxious to see every thing should have no desire to
possess the things that are seen. Thus, what
began in curiosity may end in coveting and
thieving.   But if it does not lead you so far
astray as this, it will bring you into serious diffi culty with your parents, or your friends whose
207 
INQUISITIVENESS.
guest you are; for they will not be satisfied to
have their drawers tumbled, packages opened,
and every nice article fingered.   This disposition, too, will lead you to inquire into the secrets
of your friends; and this will furnish a temptation to tattling. What you have been at such
pains to obtain, you will find it difficult to keep
to yourself.   You  will want to share the rare
enjoyment with  others.   And  when  the  story
comes round to your friend or companion, whose
confidence you have betrayed, you will, to your
great chagrin and  mortification, be discarded.
A delicate sense of propriety will lead you to
avoid prying too closely into the affairs of others.
You will never do it from mere curiosity. But
if any of your friends so far make you a confidant as to lead you to suppose that they need
your sympathy or aid, you may, in a delicate
manner, inquire farther, in order to ascertain
what aid you can render. You may, also, make
some general inquiries of strangers, in order to
show an interest in their affairs.   But  beyond
this, you cannot safely indulge this disposition.
208 
209
CHAPTER XXVII.
ON THE IMPORTANCE OF BEING ABLE TO
SAY NO.
IT often requires great courage to say NO.
But by being able promptly, on occasion, to
utter this little monosyllable, you may save yourself a deal of trouble.   If mother  Eve had
known how to say no, she might have saved
herself and her posterity from ruin. And many
of her children, who have lost their character and
their all, might have been saved, if they had
only had courage promptly to say NO.   Your
safety and happiness depend upon it.
You are importuned by some of your companions to engage in some amusement, or to
go on some excursion, which you know to be
wrong. You resolutely and promptly say NO,
at the outset, and there is the end of it. But
if you hesitate, you will be urged and importuned, until you will probably yield; and having thus given up your own judgment, and violated your conscience, you will lose your power
of resistance, and yield to every enticement.
18* 
SAYING NO.
Jane has cultivated decision of character
She never hesitates a moment, when any thing
wrong is proposed.   She  rejects it instantly.
The consequence is, her companions never think
of coming to her with any proposal of an exceptionable nature. Her prompt and decisive
NO they ao not desire to encounter. Her parents
can trust her any where, because they have
no fears of her being led astray.  And this relieves them of a load of anxiety.
But Mary is the opposite of this. She wants
to please every body, and therefore has not
courage to say no to any. She seems to have
ino power to resist temptation.   Hence, she is
always getting'into difficulty, -always doing
something that she ought not, or going to some
improper place, or engaging in some improper
diversions, through the enticement of her companions.   Her  parents  scarcely dare trust her
out of their sight, they are so fearful that she
will be led astray. She is a source of great
anxiety to them; and all because she cannot
say NO.
Now, let me beg of you to learn to say NO,
if you find any difficulty in uttering it,- if your
tongue won't do its office, or if you find a "frog in
your throat," which obstructs your utterance,go by yourself, and practise saying no, NO, NO!
210 
SAYING NO.
till you can articulate clearly, distinctly, and
without hesitation; and have it always ready
on your tongue's end, to utter with emphasis to
every girl or boy, man or woman, or evi, spirit,
that presumes to propose to you to do any thing
that is wrong. Only be careful to say it respectfully and courteously, with the usual prefixes and
suffixes, which properly belong to the persons to
whom you are speaking.
211 
212
CHAPTER XXVIII.
ON BEING USEFUL.
CAN YOU find any thing, in all the works of
Nature, which is not made for some use? The
cow gives milk, the ox labors in the field, the
sheep furnishes wool for clothing, and all of
them provide us with meat. The horse and the
dog are the servants of man. Every animal,every little insect,- has its place, and its work
to perform, carrying out the great design of its
Creator. And so it is with the inanimate creation. The earth yields its products for the use
of man and beast; and the sun, and the air,
and the clouds, (each in turn,) help forward the
work. And to how many thousand uses do we
put the noble, stately tree! It furnishes houses
for us to live in, furniture for our convenience,
fuel to make us warm, ships to sail in, and to
bring us the productions of other lands.   It
yields us fruit for food, and to gratify our taste.
And so you may go through all the variety of
animal and vegetable life, and you will find every
thing designed for  some  use.   And,  though 
ALL THINGC FOR USE.
there may be some things of the use of which
you are ignorant, yet you will find every thing
made with such evidence of design, that you
cannot help thinking it must have been intended
for some use.
Now, if every thing in creation is designed for
some use, surely you ought not to think of being
useless, or of living for nothing. God made you
to be useful; and, to answer the end of your
being, you must begin early to learn to be use.
ful.  "But how can I be useful?" you may ask.
" I wish to be useful.  I am anxious to be qual
ified to fill some useful station in life, - to be a
missionary or a teacher, or in some other way to
do good. But I do not see what good I can do
now." Though you may not say this in so
many words, yet I have no doubt that such
thoughts may often have passed through your
mind. Many people long to be useful, as they
suppose, but think they must be in some other
situation, to afford them the opportunity. This
is a great mistake. God, who made all creatures, has put every one in the right place. In
the place where God has put you, there you may
find some useful thing to do. Do you ask me
what useful thing you can do? Y Ju may find a
hundred opportunities for doing good, and being
useful, every day, if you watch for them. You
213 
BEING USEFUL.
can be useful in assisting your mother; you can
be useful in helping your brothers and sisters;
you can be useful in school, by supporting the
authority of your teacher, and by being kind and
helpful to your playmates. If you make it the
great aim of your life to be useful you will never
lack opportunities.
I have seen young persons, who would take
great delight in mere play or amusement; but
the moment they were directed to do any thing
useful, they would be displeased. Now, I do
not object to amusement, in its proper place; for
a suitable degree of amusement is useful to the
health. But pleasure alone is a small object to
live for; and if you attempt to live only to be
amused, you will soon run the whole round of
pleasure, and become tired of it all. But if you
make it your great object to be useful, and seek
your chief pleasure therein, you will engage in
occasional amusement with a double relish. No
one can be happy who is not useful. Pleasure
soon satiates. One amusement soon grows gray,
and another is sought; till, at length, they all
become tasteless and insipid.
Let it be your object, then, every day of your
life, to be useful to yourself and others. In the
morning, ask yourself, "What useful things can
I do to-day'? What can I do that will be a last
214 
BEING USEFUL.
ing benefit to myself? How can I make myself
useful in the family? What can I do for my
father or mother? What for my brothers or
sisters? And what disinterested act can I perform for the benefit of those who have no claim
upon  me?"   Thus  you  will  cultivate useful
habits and benevolent feelings. And you will
find a rich return into your own bosom. By
making yourself useful to every body, you will
find every one making a return of your kindness. You will secure their friendship and good
will, as well as their bounty. You will find it,
then, both for your interest and happiness to
BE USEFUL.
215 
216
CHAPTER XXIX.
ON BEING CONTENTED.
THE true secret of happiness is, to be contented.  "Godliness," says the apostle Paul, "with
contentment,  is great  gain."   These  two  are
great gain, because, without them, all the gain
in the world will not make us happy. Young
people are apt to think, if they had this thing or
that, or if they were in such and such circumstances, different from their own, they would be
happy. Sometimes they think, if their parents
were only rich, they should enjoy themselves.
But rich people are often more anxious to increase their riches than poor people are to be
rich; and the more their artificial wants are
gratified, the more they are increased.   "The
eye is not satisfied with seeing, nor the ear filled
with hearing." Solomon was a great king, so
rich that he was able to get whatever his heart
desired. He built great palaces for himself; he
filled them with servants; he treasured up gold
and silver; he bought gardens, and vineyards,
and fields; he bought herds of cattle, with horses 
BEING COTNTENTED.
and carriages; he kept men and women singers,
and players on all sorts of instruments; whatever his eyes desired he kept not from them; he
withheld not his heart from any joy; but with it
all he was not satisfied. He called it all "vanity and vexation of spirit."   So you may set
your heart at rest, that riches will not make you
happy. Nor would you be any more happy, if
you could exchange places with some other persons, who seem to you to have many more means
of enjoyment than yourself. With these things
that dazzle your eyes, they have also their trials;
and if you take their place, you must take the
bitter with the sweet.
But young people  sometimes think, if they
were      only men and women, and could manage
for themselves, and have none to control them,
then they would certainly be happy, for they
could do as they please. But in this they are
greatly   mistaken.  There will then be a great
increase of care and labor; and they will find it
more difficult to do as they please than they do
now. If they have none to control them, they
will have none to provide for them. True, they
may then manage for themselves; but they will
also have to support themselves. Those who
have lived the longest, generally consider youth
the happiest period of life, because it is com               19
217 
BEING CONTENTED.
paratively free from trouble and care, and there
is more time for pleasure and amusement.
But there is one lesson, which, if you will
learn it in youth, will make you happy all your
days. It is the lesson which Paul had learned.
You know that he suffered great hardships in
travelling on foot, in various countries, to preach
the gospel. He was often persecuted, reviled,
defamed, beaten, and imprisoned. Yet he says,
"I have learned in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content."   There  are several things
which should teach us this lesson. In the first
place, God, in his holy providence, has placed
us in the condition where we are.  He  knows
what is best for us, and what will best serve
the end for which he made us; and of all other
situations, he has chosen for us the one that
we now occupy. Who could choose so well
as he? And then, what can we gain by fretting about it, and worrying ourselves for what
we cannot help? We only make ourselves unhappy.   Moreover,  it is very ungrateful and
wicked to complain of our lot, since God has
given us more and better than we deserve. It is
better to look about us, and see how many things
we have to be thankful for; to look upon what we
have, rather than what we have not.  This does
not, indeed, forbid our seeking to improve our
218 
BEING CONTENTED.
condition, provided we do it with submission to
the will of God.   We ought to use all fair and
lawful means to this end; but not in such a
spirit of discontent and repining, as will make
us miserable if we  are disappointed.   If you
desire to be happy, then, BE CONTENTED.
219 
220
CHAPTER XXX.
UNION OF SERIOUS PIETY WITH HABITUAL
CHEERFULNESS.
IT is a mistake often made by young people,
to associate religion with a downcast look, a sad
countenance, and an aching heart. Perhaps the
mistakes of some good people, in putting on a
grave and severe aspect, approaching even to
moroseness, may have given some occasion for
this sentiment. I do not know, indeed, how
prevalent the sentiment is among the young. I
can hardly think it is common with those who
are religiously educated. As for myself, I well
remember that, in my childhood, I thought true
Christians must be the happiest people in the
world. There is no doubt, however, that many
pleasure-loving young people do look upon religion with that peculiar kind of dread which
they feel of the presence of a grave, severe maiden aunt, which would spoil all their pleasure
And, I do not deny, that there are certain kinds
of pleasure which religion spoils; but then it
first removes the taste and desire for them, after 
CIIEERFUL PIETY.
which the spoliation is nothing to be lamented.
It is true, also, that there are some things in
religion which are painful. Repentance for sin
is a painful exercise; self-denial is painful; the
resistance of temptation is sometimes trying; and
the subduing of evil dispositions is a difficult
work.   But, to endure whatever  of suffering
there is in these things, is a saving in the end.
It is less painful than the tortures of a guilty
conscience, the gnawings of remorse, and the
fear of hell. It is easier to be endured than
the consequences of neglecting religion.   If
you get a sliver in your finger, it is easier to
bear the pain of having it removed, than it is
to carry it about with you. If you have a de cayed tooth, it is easier to have it extracted than
to bear the toothache.   So it is easier to repent
of sin than to bear remorse and fear. And the
labor of resisting temptation, and of restraining
and subduing evil dispositions, is not so great
an interference with one's happiness as it is to
carry about a guilty conscience.
There is, however, nothing in true piety in consistent with  habitual cheerfulness.   There
is a difference between cheerfulness and levity.
Cheerfulness is serene and peaceful. Levity is
light and trifling.  The former promotes even ness of temper and equanimity of enjoyment;
I9*
!221 
CIEERFUL PIETY.
the latter drowns sorrow and pain for a short
time, only to have it return again with redoubled
power.
The Christian hope, and the promises and
consolations of God's word, furnish the only
true ground of cheerfulness. Who should be
cheerful and happy, if not one who is delivered
from the terrors of hell and the fear of death, -
who is raised to the dignity of a child of God, -
who has the hope of eternal life - the prospect
of dwelling forever in the presence of God, in
the society of the blessed, and in the enjoyment of perfect felicity? But no one would associate these things with that peculiar kind of
mirth, which is the delight of the pleasure-loving world. Your sense of propriety recoils from
the idea of associating things of such high import with rudeness, frolicking, and mirth. Yet
there is an innocent gayety of spirits, arising
from natural vivacity, especially in the period
of childhood and youth, the indulgence of
which, within proper bounds, religion does not
forbid.
There is a happy medium between a settled,
severe gravity and gloom, and frivolity, levity,
and mirth, which young Christians should strive
to cultivate. If you give unbounded license to
a mirthful spirit, and indulge freely ill all man
222 
CHEERFUL PIETY.
ner of levity, frivolity, and foolish jesting, you
cannot maintain that-devout state of heart which
is essential to true piety. On the other hand,
if you studiously repress the natural vivacity of
youthful feeling, and cultivate a romantic kind
of melancholy, or a severe gravity, you will
destroy the elasticity of your spirits, injure your
health, and very likely become peevish and irritable, and of a sour, morose temper; and this
will be quite as injurious to true religious feeling as the other. The true medium is, to unite
serious  piety with habitual cheerfulness.   Always bring Christian motives to bear upon your
feelings.   The  gospel of Jesus  Christ has a
remedy for every thing in life that is calculated
to make us gloomy and sad. It offers the pardon of sin to the penitent and believing, the
aid of grace to those that struggle against
an evil disposition, and succor and help against
temptation. It promises to relieve the believer
from fear, and afford consolation in affliction.
There is no reason why a true Christian should
not  be cheerful.   There  are, indeed,  many
things, which he sees, within and without, that
must give him pain. But there is that in his
Christian hope, and in the considerations
brought to his mind from the Word of God,
which is able to bear him high above them all
223 
CIIEERFUL PIETY.
Let me, then, earnestly recommend you to cultivate a serious but cheerful piety.   Let your
religion be neither of that spurious kind which
expends itself in sighs, and tears, and gloomy
feelings, nor that which makes you insensible
to all feeling.  But while you are alive to your
own  sins and  imperfections, exercising  godly
sorrow for them, and while you feel a deep and
earnest sympathy for those who have no interest
in Christ, let your faith in the atoning blood
of Jesus, and your confidence in God, avail to
keep  you  from  sinking  into melancholy  and
gloom, and makle you cheerful and happy, while
you rest in God.
And now, gentle reader, after this long conversation, I must take leave of you, commending you to God, with the prayer that my book
may be useful to you, in the formation of a
well-balanced Christian character; and that,
after you and I shall have done the errand for
which the Lord sent us into the world, we may
meet in heaven. GOD BLESS YOU!
224 
MOTHERS OF TIIE WAVISE AND GOOD.
BY JABEZ BURNS, D.D.
3aconlntlncitbatrio tI.
FROIl REV. J. ANGELL  JA.tIES.
" It is a useful and valuable work, replete with instrtctioin and encouragemeit, and will have, I h)e, ats it (diseervc, to havc, a wvide circulation.  I make much use of it in miy  ltriodical leetings, anuong
this interesting and important class."
FROM. REV. DR. BEAUMONT.
, I am  constrained to sav that it is full of interest. and that of the
most pleasi,g ii(u tuseful kLid.  It tiresents to the  rader a bouquet of
chame         mes-a cbietcharmhe a  ri     ng   eiiinisceiice:-a tisise of facts
and mloitls, ol ijcideftts and principles, at once delia,htifil ald( edifying.
And as a g ey of' elect  itties' an -d their sons, it wtuld(  be a profiitable study tor all who fill the imi)ortant relations of son and mother."
FRo  R:v. I W..Ro PoBINsoN, 5M.A.
" I eariestl   oip,:,,ht tit is little vo1iiime, which is a suitab)le present
to the     theis ot EtlL. will htive ti wide ci'c lt.ti iln:lld Ithat its
perusal will be accomi)patied by the puwerful aid of lthe toly Spirit."
FRo —,  REv.  ItEENRY  GRPEY, D.D.
"It has afforded pleasi ure to Mrs. Gr ey;nil mysell   It tappea-s to me
a valuabl              e selecti(t o  seci es of the s ces s at tenin  g tihe  faithful
perfoirnialice of ain imipiu',tant class of duties; t      ndl will, I'ust, f,rove
iistructive  aii(i e             tciiafit,g to  iawy,n)thers, shoiwiiig in so manaiy instances the hapll)y effect of their l)rayers and exertions."
FRor REV. J. P. DOBSON.
"Would that all motes-             g mothers especiallyv-hadl such a
Volume in their possession, and coulid be prevailed upon to make it a
vade secc, ii the tr-inin g,t'their iI.t charge. I rejoice to speak of
it wherever I can, and shall be ret(ly ai glad to avtil myself of every
oppolrtunity of recommendiig it, because I can recommend it conscientiously and earnestly.''
FROM-  TIIE  FREE  CHUCrIm  MAGAZINE.
"We have lingered over the pages of this most attractive book, with
feelings of interest, anrd tende,ess a,id affection, which we caninot express.  MAany remembrances (f yuttli arose, andl took ftill possession
of our heart, while in sornie instttices we scar-cely knew whether we
read the pages of the work befoire us. or those of memtnory. It is well
that instances of the precious infltiences of maternal piety, prudence,
and love, should be recorded; buit who (,an tell their inestiliaible value?
T'he mothers of the wise and good! yves, were there more such mothers,
we mighlt confidenitly expect more such sons."
I
I
I
I
I
I
I
I 
WORKS ON MISSIONS.
THE MISSIONARY ENTERPRISE; A Collection Of Discourses
on Claristian Missions, by American Authors. Edited by
BArlO- STOW, D.D.   12mo., cloth.   Price 85 cents.
"' If Me desired to put into the hands of a foreigner a fair exhibition of the
capacity and spirit of the American church, we would give him this volume.
You have here thrown together a few discourses, preached from time to time,
by different individuals, of diflrkent denomination, as circumstances  have
de, an ded  them; and you see the stature and feel the pulse of the American
Chur ch in                  ithese discorss with a certainty not to be mistaken.
"Y ou see the high talent of the American church.  We venture the asser tion, that no nation in the world has such an amount of forceful, available
talent in its pulpit.  The energy, directness, scope, and intellectual spirit of
the American church is wonderful.   In this book, the discourses by Dr.
Bechcer, Pres. Wayland, and the Rev. Dr. Stone of the Episcopal church, are
among the very highest exhibitions of logical correctness, and burning, popu  lt fervor.  This volume will have a wide eirculation."-T'ie New Englander.
" This work contains fifteen sermons on Missions, by Rev. Drs. Wayland,
Griffin, Anderson, Williams, Beecher, Miller, Fuller, Beman, Stone, MIason,
and by Rev. Messrs. Kirk, Stow, and Ide.  It is a rich treasure, which ought
to be in the possession of every American Christian."- Carolina Baptist.
THE GREAT COMMISSION; Or, the Christian Church consti  tuted and charged to convey the Gospel to the world.  A  Prize
Essay.   By John HAPRRIS, D.D.   With an Introductory Essay,
by  W.  R.  WILLIAMS,  D.D.   Sixth  thousand.   12mo., cloth.
Price $1.00.
" HIis plan is original and comprehensive. In filling it up the author has
interwoven facts with rich and gloting illustrations, and with trains of
thought that are sometimes almost resistless in their appeals to the consciene.
The work is inot more distinguished for its arguments ad its geniius, than for
the spirit of deep and fervent piety that pervades it."- The Dayspriag.
"its style is remarkably chaste and elegant. Its sentiments richly and fer  vently evangelical, its argumentation conclusive." - ion's Ierald, Boston.
" To recomimend this work to the friends of missios of all denominations
would be but faint praise; the author deserves and will undoubtedly receive
the credit of having applied a new lever to that great moral machine which,
by the blessing of God, is destined to evangelize the world."
Christian Secretary, Hratford.
"We hope that the volume will be attentively and prayerfully read by the
whole church, which are clothed with the " Great Commission" to evangelize
the world, and that they will be moved to an immediate discharge of its high
and momentous obligations.. —-V E. P.urittan, osto.
THE KAREN APOSTLE; Or, Memoir of Ko TAiR-BYu, the
first Karen convert with notices concerning his Nation. By the
Rev. FRANCIS MASON. Edited by Prof. H. J. RIPLEY. Fifth
thousand. 18mo., cloth. Price 25 cents.
" This is a work of thrilling interest, containing the history of a remarkable
man, and giving, also, much information respecting the Karen Mission, here  tofore unknown in this country. It gives an account, which must be attrac  tive, from its novelty, of a people that have been but little known and visited
by missionaries, till within a few years. The baptism of Ko Thah-Byu, in
1828, was the beginning of the mission, and at the end of these twelve years,
twelve hundred and seventy Karens are officially reported as members of the
churches, in good standing.  The mission has been carried 7n pre-eminently
by the Karens themselves, and there is no doubt, from much touching evi  dence contained in this volume, that they are a people peculiarly susceptibie
to religious impressions." 
METMSOIR]S OF DISTINGUISIED MISSIONARIES.
MFEIOIR OF ANN H. JUDSON, late IIissionitry to Burnimah.
By  Piev. JAMIIEs D. KNOwVLES.    With a likeness.   1l2mo., fine
Eitionl price 85 cents.   18mno.   Price 58 cent.,.
We are p rticutirly gr.ttiled to perceive a  e e    dition of the Memoirs of
Mrs. Judso.  She   as a   o r to ou  contr- e of the most   oble spirited o her sex.  It cannot, terCore. e surrisig, that so                editions,
and so anay t lousand coies of her life  avetures hte  been sold.
The  iame-the                                 long career  of sfferi —te sel-sacrificig spirit of the
retired country-irl, have spread  cter t                 le orl   andteherois   of
her apostleship,n   alost    artyrdom, stands ot a livin;    heavenly
beacon fire, aid tlhe dark niight of  es, and h           a history and exploits.
She was the first woan who resolved to bec e a    issiory to heathen
countries."o -  4e~ ica n Tra~,eller.
"This is one of the most interesting pieces of female biogra,ply which has
ever come under or notice.  No quotation, which our liits allow  would do
justicee to the must, theretre, refer our r ers to the volume
itself. It ought to be immediately added to every fanily library."
iondon 31iscetlany.
MEMOIR OF GEORGE DANA BOARDM AN, Late Missionary
to Biurmah, containing much intellioenlce relative to the Bur  man mission  By Rev. ALONZO KING.  Embellishied with a
Likeness; a  beautiful  Vignettea representing  the  baptismal
scene just before  his death; and a drawing of his tomb.    By
Rev. H. HMALCO-I, D.D.   12mo.  Price 75 cents.
" One of the brightest luminaries of Burmah is extingriished - dear broiler
Boardmalan is gone to his eternal rest.  I1e  Iell gloriously at the head  f his
troops —in  the arms of victory, —thirty-eiht  vw ild   iarens  having been
bro       iitht it     tofkigJe the thegiining of the year, besides
the tlirtv-t   that   ere bro.t,ht in during the two pr ec(ding years.  Dis  abled b    ou s, he  V.s otliged, th; g tie    ole of the last expedition, to
be carried on  litter; but his piiresence was a hot, and tle loly Spirit accom  panied his dying whispers with ahighty influence."-ev. D-. Judson.
MIEMOIRB OF MIPS. IIEN,'RIETTA SHUCK, The first American
Female Mlissionary to Chlina. By Rev. J. B. JErTERI. With a
Likeness. Fourth thousand.   18mo.   Price 50 cents.
"The  style of the author is seate  and perspicuous, suh  as we might
expect fom  his kno n piety and  learni, his   ttacment to   issions, and
the amiab le lady w        hose memory he ebal,s. Th e book will be extensively
read and eminently use',l,  ld thusthens  t                     he st bhe agthir bvill be
happily secured.  We tn    e  are not m            istaken in  this opinion.  Those
who are               ii Chiia, that large opening field for the glorious con  quests of divine truth, will be interested in  this Memir.   To the friends of
missions generally, the book is commended, as worthy of an attentive peru  sal."- Tle ~ktaily Visitor,.Boston.
rdEIOIR OF REV. WILLIAM G. CRO(,KER, Late Miss'ionary
in West Africa,  among  the Bassas, Includling a History of the
Mission.    By  R.  B.  MEDBERY.   With  a likeness.   s18mo.
Price 62>  cents.
"Our acquaintance with the excellent brother, who is the subject of this
Memoir, will be long and fondly cherished.  This volume, prepared by a lady,
of true taste and tale;at, and of a kinidred spirit, while it is but a just tribute
to his worth, will, we doubt not, furnish lessons of humble and practical piety,
and will give such facts relative to the mission to which he devoted his life, as
to render it worthy a distinguished place among the religious and missionary
biography which has so much enriched the family of God."- - ttchmian 
VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS.
ELEMIENTS OF MIORAL SCIENCE.   By FPrANCIS WAYLAND,
D.D.  P'resident of Brown  University, and Profess)r of Moral
Philosophy.   Thirty-sixth Thousand.  12mo., cloth.  Price
$1.25.
rom Retv. t'Ibuh  Fisk, Presient of the -Wesleyan [f,iersity.
"I have examined  it with great satisfiction and interest.  The work was
greatly needed, and is well executed.  Dr. Wayland deserves the grateful
acknooledgmttents anl d liberal patronage of the public.  I need say nothing
further to eress   ly high estimate of the work, titan that we shal   itediateiy adopt it as a text-book it our university."
From., ]fob. Jaes  Ae t, late Chancellor of  etw Yrk.
"Th          e  wo rk has   ead b  me attentivel by and tltoroughly, and I think
very hirhly of it.  The auth or himself is one of the most estimalble of men
tod I (o slt   kowi  of Amy etical treatise, i which our duties to God an  to
our fellow -,en are laid down  with more  pre ision, isplicity, clearuess,
energy, and truth."
"The  work  of  Dr.  ayland has arisen gradl,  from the necessity of
correcting the fal e principles  and fallacious reasonings  of Paley.  It is a
radical nistake,           if            the edcatio   of  oth, to permit  ay book to be used
by students as a text-book, which co ntains err                 o neous doctrines,  especially
vhel these are f       aisdameotal, and tend to vitia        te the l le sstein of morals.
W,e have  een greatly pleased with the method which President Wayland has
adopted;            he goe s ack  to the silest and  ost fdaetal prineiles   and,
in the statement  f hi views, he unites perspicut it with conciseess   d
precision.  In  all    the  authr's leading fundamental  principles we entirely
concur." - Biblical Ren.ository.
MORAL SCIENCE ABRIDGED. by the Author, and adapted to
the use of Schools and Academies. Twenty-fifth Thousand.
18mo., half  cloth.   Price 25 cents.
The more efectually to meet the desire expressed for a chea  edition, the present
edition is issued at tie reduced price of'25 cets   per Copy, and it is hoped therey to
extend the becefit of,norm ittstrutctiont to all tle  youth ot our land.  Teachers and all
others egagedl ini tie traiti'~ of youb, are i        nvitedl to exnm k,e this work.
"Dr. Wavlaud has published an abridgment  of his work, for the use of
schools.  Of this step we can hardly speak too highly. It is more than time
that the stdy of moral philosophy should be  introduced  into all our institu tions of education.  We are happy to see the way so ausniciously opened for
suich an introduction.  It has been not merel abridlged, but also re-writt,
We cannot but regard the labor as well bestowed." — orth Amercan  e.
"We  speak that we do know,    en we  express our high est imate of Dr.
Wayland's ability in teaching M.oral Philosophy, whether  orally or by the
book.    avi   listed to his instructions, in this interesting department, we
can attest how lofty are the principles, how exact and severe the ar            ent
tion, how      r riate  and stro        the illstrtions which  charaterize  his
system and en force it on the iid.' -The Christia n         Wfit,ness.
"The work of wh ich this volume is an abridgnetit, is well known as one of
the best and most complete works  on  Moral Philosophy extant  The author
is well known ais one of the most profound scholars of the age. That the study
of Moral Science, a science which teaches  goodoess, should be  a branch of
eltctatiotn, not only in our  colleges,   but in  our schools  and academies, we
believe will io(t be denied.  The abridgtlent of this work seems to us admi robly calculated for the purpose, and we hope it will be extensively applied
to tle purposes for which it is intended." - The Jerea-ctile Jou,i'.a 
VALUABLE SCHOOL BOOKS.
THE  ELEMIENTS OF POLITICAL ECONOMY.   By FRANCIS
WAYLAND, D.D., President of Brown Unliversity.   Fifteenth
Thousand. 12mo., cloth. Price $1.25.
"His object has been to write a book, which any one who chooses may
understand.  He has, therefore, labored to express the general principles in
the plainest manner  possible, and to illustrate themn by cases with which
every person is familiar.  It has been to the author a source of regret, that the
course of discussion in the following pages, hats, unavoidably, led Iimu over
ground which has frequently been the arena of political controversy. Iu  all
such cases, he has endeavored to state what seecmed to him to be truth,
without fear, favor, or affection.  He is conscious to himself of no bias towards
any party whatever, and he thinks that he who will read the whole work, will
be convinced that he has been influenced by none." -Extract -rom 2rejface.
POLITICAL ECONOMY, ABRIDGED, by the Author, and
adapted  to the  use  of  Schools  and  Acadeinies.    Seventh
Thousand. 18mo., half morocco. Price 50 cents.
"The original work of the author, on Polittical Ecostomy, has already been
noticed on our pages, and the present abridgment stands in no need of a
reconmmendation from us.  We  may be permitted, however, to say, that both
the rising and risen geserations are deeply indebted to Dr. Wayland, for the
skill and power he has put forthi to bring a highly important subject distinctly
before them, within such narrow limits.  It is to be hoped, this will form
a class-book, and be faithfully studied in our academies; and that it will
find its way into every family library.  It is fitted to enlarge the mind,
to purify the judgment, to correct  erroneous popular impressions, and assist
every man in forming opinions of public measures, which will abide the test
of titue and experience." -  oston Recorder.
"We rejoice to see such treatises spreading among the people; and we urge
all who would be intelligent freemen, to read them." -   ew York Tr anscript.
" It is well adapted to high chools, a.,d embraces the soundest system of
republican political economy of any treatise extant."-Daily Advocate.
THiOUGHTS on the present Collegiate System in the United
States. By FRANCIS WAYLAND, D.D. Price 50 cents.
" These Thoughts  cone from a source entitled to a very respectful atten tion; and the author goes over the whole ground of collegiate education, criti cosia  freely all the arrangements in every departmrent and  in  all their
bearings."
PALEY'S NATURAL THEOLOGY.  Illustrated by forty plates
aniid Selections from the niotes of Dr. Paxton, with  additional
Notes, orieinal atnd selected, for this edition; with a vocabu  lary of Scientific Terms.  Edited by Joiti  WARE,  M1.D. 12mo.,
sheep   Price $1.25.
"  he work before   s is one which deserves rather to be studied  thtan
merely read.  Indeed, without diligent attention and study, neither the excel lnces of it can be fully discovered, nor its advantages realized.  It is, there fre, gratifi   t  f ind it introduced  as a text-book, into the colleges and
literary institutions of our c,untry.  The edition before us is superior to any
we have seen, and, we believe, superior to aty that has yet beet published."
Spirit of tie Pilgrims.
"Perhaps no one of our author's works gives greater satisfaction to all classes
of readers, thet young and the old, the ig,orant and the enlightenied.  Indeed,
we recollect no book in whiich the arguments for the existence and attributes
of the Supreme Being to be drawn from his works, are exhibited in a marner
more attractive and more convincing." - Christian Examiner. 
'! 
W. & R. CIHAMBERS'S WORKS.
CHAMBER'S CYCLOPEDIA OF ENGLISH LITERATURE;
A selection of the choicest productions of English Authors,
from the earliest to the present time; Connected by a Criti  cal and Biographical History. Edited by ROBERT CHAMBERS.
Ill two vols. octavo, with upwards of 300 elegant illustrations,
Price, in cloth, $5.00.
*5* The Publishers of the AMERICAN Edition of this valuable work desire
to state, that, besides the numerous pictorial illustrations in the English Edition,
they have greatly enriched the work by the addition of fine steel and mezzotint
engravings of the heads of Shakspeare, Addison, Byron; a full length portrait
of Dr. Johnson, and a beautiful scenic representation of Oliver Goldsmith and
Dr. Johnson. These elegant additions together with superior paper and bind ihg must give this a decided preference over all other editions.
"We hail with peculiar pleasure the appearance of this work, and more espec ially its republication in this country at a price which places it withln the
reach of a great number of readers, and for which they call expect to be remu nerated only by a very extensive sale."
"The selections given by iMr. Chambers from the vorks of the early English
writers are copious, and judiciously made. *  * * *s  We shall conclude as we
commenced, with expressing a hope that the publication which has callM
forth our remarks will exert an influence in directing the attention of t
public to the literature of our forefather s."-orth A erican Review.
CHAMBERS'S  MIISCELLANY of Useful and  Entertaining
Knowledge, with elegant illustrative engravings. Edited b,
WVILLIIA   CHAMBERS.    Ten volumes,  cloth.   Price   $10.0C
'** The design of the MISCELLANY is to supply the increasing demand 
useful, instructive, and entertaining reading, and to bring all the aids of litei
thre to bear on the   cultivation of the eelings and understanding of the peoo
to impress correct views on import an          t  moral and social questions - supp every species of strife and savagery -cheer the lagging and desponding by 
relation of tales drawn from the imagination of popular writers-rouse 
fancy by descriptions of interest'ng foreign scenes- give a zest to every-d;
occupations by ballad and lyrical poetry -in short, to furnish an unobtrus.
friend and guide, a lively fireside companion, as far as that object can'
attained through the instrumentality of books.
CHAMBERS'S LIBRARY FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. A "ries
small  books,  elegantly  illuminated.    Edited  by   WILLTA
CHAMBERS.  Each volume forms a complete work, embhr
lished with a fine steel engraving, and is sold separatel
18mo. Price 37Y. cents.
ORLANDINO: A Story of Self-Denial. By MARIA EDGEWORo-,THE LITTLE ROBINSON: And other Tales.
UNCLE SAM'S MONEY BOX.  By Mrs. S. C. HALL.
JACOPO: Tales by Miss EDGEWORTH and others.
TRUTH AND TRUST.  Jervis Rvland-Victor and Lisette.
ALFRED INi INDIA.                       CLEVER BOYS.'
MIORAL COURAGE.                         TALES OF OLD ENGLAND
Other volumes  a?e in prepaoratonl. 
REV. HARVEY NEWCOOMB'S WORKS.
HOW TO BE A LADY; A Bookfor Girls, containing useru:
hints on the formiation of character. Fifth thousand. 18mo.,
gilt cloth. Price 50 cents.
", Having daughters of his own, and having been many years employed in
writing for the young, he hopes to beable to ofr some good advice, in an
entertaining way, for girls or, sses, between the ages of eight  and  fifteen.
His object is, to assist them in forming their characters upon the best model;
that they may become well-bred, intellige nt, refined, and good; and then they
will be real ladies, in the highest sen se."   P face.
"They are full ofwholesome and judicious counsel    s, which are well fitted to
preserve the young from the numberless evils to which they are exposed, and
to mould them to virtue and usefufness. Th    ere is a directness and earnestness
pervading the whole, which must secure for it a     ready access to the youthful
mind and heart."- A-bany Argus.
HOW TO BE A MAN; A Book for Boys, contaiiilag useful
hints on the formation of character.    Fifth thousand.    18mo.,
gilt cloth. Price 50 cents.
"My design in writing has been to coUtribute something towards forming
the character of those who are to be our fuiture electors, legislators, governors,
judges, ministers, lawyers, and physicians, -after the  best model.   It is
intended for boys -or, if you please, for yossog gentlemen, in early youth,
from eight or ten to fifteen or sixteen years of age." - Preface.
"They contain wise and imiportant counsels and cautions, adapted to the
young, and made entertaining by the interesting style and illustrations of the
author.  They are fine mirrors, in which are reflected the prominent linea  ments of the Chrstiano   young gentlemosn and young lady.  The execution of
the works is of the first order, and the books will afford elegant and most prof  itable presents for the young." - American  Pulpit.
ANECDOTES FOR BOYS; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narra  tives, illustrative of principles and character.  1imo., gilt cloth.
Price 42 cents.
"Nothibng has a greater interest for a youthful mind than a well-told story,
dand  o m ed ium. of conveying moral instractions so attractive or so successful
The influence of all such stories is far more powerful when the child is assured
that they are true. The book before us is conducted upon these ideas.  It is
made up of a series of anecdotes, every one of which inculcates some excel  lent m    oral lesson. We cannot too highly approve of the book, or too strongly
recommend it to parents." -  - testen Continent, Baltsor e.
ANECDOTES FOR GIRLS; Entertaining Anecdotes and Narra  tives, illustrative of principles and character.  18mo., gilt cloth
Price 42 cents.
There is a charm about these two beautiful volumes not to be mistaken.
Thev are  teeply d interesting and instrnctive, without being fictitious. The
anecdotes are manv, short, and spirited, with a noral drawn from each, some  what after the             m.an n.er of T?.; and no youth can read them without finding
sometlhing therein adapted to every age, condition, and duty of life.  We
e.n..e,d it to fam.ilies and schools." - Albany 6pectator
" He desires to instruct rather than to dazzle; to infuse correct principles
into t1he miids and the heart of the young, than cater to a depraved appetite
fr ro tic excitement.     e cordially  commend  these volumes  to  all
parents and children."-Chrfstianzilliance.
,CHRISTIANITY DEMONSTRATED in four distinct and inde   pendent series of proofs; with an explanation of the Types and
Psophecies concerning the Messiah.   12mo.   Price  75 cents.
**5 The object of the writer has been to classify and condense the evidence,
that the whole force of each particular kind might be seen at one view.  He
has also aimed to render the workpractical, so as to have it a book to be read
as w-ell as studied.  The Types and Prophecies furnish an important species
af evidence, and are rich in instruction upon the way of Salvation. 
FOR SABBATH SCHOOLS.
: MALCOM'S BIBLE DICTIONARY.  A  Dictionary of tl
mr.ost  important Names,  Oibjects,  and  Terms,  found  in  t:
Holy  Scriptures;  intended  principallv for  Sunday   Schc
Teachers and  Bible  Classes.   By  H..MALCOM, D.D.    llr.
trated by Engravings.   18mo. half morocco.   One  Hundre
thousand. Price 50 cts.
"All who for a moment recur to the fact, that large folios would ot 
elently elucidate the subjects which are brought to  iew i the Bible, will
once see the difficulty which the authior must hale felt, in compressing all 
information which he has so judiciously condensed  If any should inqu
Why have we not more, the themes being so numerous? let such an one lo
again, and, perhaps, in his surprise, he will exclaim, low is it, that, in a be
so completely portable, we have so mich? to have made a larger book,
could have been done with far less labor than this cost, ight have placed
beyond the reach of many, to whom it will now be useful. All who know  t
allusions to ancient customs, and Jewish usages in Eastern cuntries, 
which the Bible abounds, will discover somethiig of the worth of this volu,
It is very neatly printed on lindsome type and fine paper, and will,
doubt not, meet, as it deserves, a ready sale."-  Christian  Watchan.
HAGUE'S GUIDE TO CONVERSATION on the New TestameT
Designed  for the  Use of Bible  Classes and Sabbath Schoo
Vol.  I. MIatthew, -  Vol.  II. John.  By  Rev.  WM.   HAcGL
Price 17 cents each.
SABBATH  SCHOOL CLASS BOOK.  Comnpri,sig copio
Exercises on the Sacred Scriptures.   By E. LINCOLN.   Revisl
and improved by an eminent  Clergyman, and a  Superinte
dent.  Price 12Y  cents.
" Having examined your Sabbath School Class Book, it gives us pleasnrre
express our satisfaction with its design and execution.  The great benl
which a good class book accomplishes, consists in guiding the mind of 
scholar in the study of his lesson, and in suggesting topics of conversation
the teacher. To this end we think your work is well adapte,d; having avoid.
in a great degree, the evils of extreme redundance or conciseness.
Was. HAOUE,         Is. MALCOM,
E. TIRcES{R,        BARON  STOVW.
LINCOLN'S   SCRIPTURE   OLUESTIONS,: With  the  ianswe
annexed, giving in the language of the Sacred Voluime, intere~
ing portions of the  History,.and a  colcise view  of the Dc
trines and Duties exhibited il the Bible.  Price $1.00 per do
%* Where Bibles cannot be furnished to each scholar, the Scripture Q,.
tions may be used with convenience, as the a,swers are printed.
THE SABBATH SCHOOL HARMONY; containing approp,
ate Hymis and Music for Sabbath Schools, Juvenile  Singig
Schools, and  Family Devotion.   By   N. D.  GOULD.    Pri
12Y  cents.
SCRIPTURE NATURAL HISTORY, Containing a Deseripti
Account of Quadrupeds,  Birds, Fishes, Insects, Reptiles, S;
pents, Plants,  Trees,  Minerals, Gems,  and Precious  Ston;
mentioned in the Bible.   By WM.  CARrENTEPa, LonIdon; W.
improvements, by Rev. G. D. ABBOTT.   Illustrated by numa
cus Engravings. 12mo. cloth. Price $1.00.
f
Cb
t:
e
O
r
r,
f,
I
ci
D,.It   1921
t
t
e
re
f
c
f
CI
O]
TI
U]
Jt
TI
A:
Di