Chapter II: Part 2

“I shall now,” said Mrs. Williams, “endeavor to sketch out for you the plan of conduct, which I think will be most conducive to your honor and happiness while in a single state. Hitherto you have been under the direction of parents, guardians, and instructors, who have regulated your deportment, and labored to give you just ideas upon every subject and occasion. That period is now over. You are now launching into life; where you will think and act more for yourselves.

“The path of rectitude, my dear young friends, is narrow and intricate. Temptations lurk around to beguile your feet astray; and dangers which appear insurmountable will often arise to affright you from the ways of virtue.

“But remember that a crown of honor and happiness awaits the undeviating pursuit of truth and duty. Let religion be your guide, and discretion your handmaid. Thus attended, you will escape the snares of youth, and surmount the perplexing cares of more advanced age. At your entrance on the stage of action, the allurements of pleasure will spread innumerable charms to court your acceptance. Beware of their fascinating wiles; and whatever course you adopt, be sure it is such as will bear the test of examination and reflection. Let these be the criterion of all your pursuits and enjoyments. Make it an invariable practice to re-trace the actions and occurrences of the day, when you retire to rest; to account with your own hearts for the use and improvement of the past hours; and rectify whatever you find amiss, by greater vigilance and caution, in future; to avoid the errors into which you have fallen, and to discharge the duties incumbent upon you.

“To neglect this, will be a source of great inadvertencies and failings.

“To know yourselves, in every particular, must be your constant endeavor. This knowledge will lead you to propriety and consistency of action. But this knowledge cannot be obtained without a thorough and repeated inspection of your various passions, affections, and propensities. When obtained, however, it will prevent the ill effects of flattery, by which you will doubtless be endangered, as you advance into the scenes of fashionable life. It will enable you to distinguish flattery from that generous praise which is the effusion of a feeling heart, affected by the perception of real merit. A young lady, unskilled in the deceitful arts of a giddy world, is very apt to be misled by the adulation which is offered at the shrine of vanity. She is considered as a mark for the wit of every coxcomb, who wishes to display his gallantry.

“Flattery is a dazzling meteor, which casts a delusive glare before the eye; and which seduces the imagination, perverts the judgment, and silences the dictates of sound reason. Flattery is, therefore, the poison and bane of the youthful mind. It renders the receiver blind to those defects which she ought to see and rectify, and proud of imaginary graces which she never yet possessed. Self-knowledge, as before observed, will facilitate the detection of this disguised adversary, by enabling you to investigate your real accomplishments and merits.

“That praise which is the result of deserved approbation from those, whose good opinion you wish to enjoy, is worthy your attention and grateful acceptance: but the fulsome compliments and hyperbolical professions of unmeaning and empty pretenders, calculated only to fill the imagination with the inflammable air of self-conceit and arrogant pride, should be rejected with disdain, and cordially despised by every lady of sense and sentiment, as an insult upon her understanding, and an indignity to her sensibility.

“Let it, therefore, be known to those who court your favor by an ostentatious parade of admiration and obsequiousness, that their dissimulation and duplicity are discovered, and that you are superior to such futility.

“In order to discriminate between flattery and merited praise, critically examine your own heart and life. By this mean you will ascertain what is really your due, and what is merely the effect of this insidious art. But let no ideas of your own endowments, however just, elate you with an opinion of your superior powers of pleasing.

“Be not ostentatious of your charms, either of person or mind. Let modesty, diffidence, and propriety regulate you, in regard to each. Exalted advantages will render you an object of envy to the weak minded of your own sex, and of satire to the ill-natured part of the other. Never obtrude even your real graces and accomplishments upon the world. The penetrating and judicious will see and applaud them, while retiring from the gaze of a misjudging and misrepresenting throng.

“Naked in nothing should a woman be,
But veil her very wit with modesty;
Let man discover; let her not display;
But yield her charms of mind with sweet delay.”

“Those who are solicitous for beauty should remember that the expression of the countenance, in which its very essence consists, depends on the disposition of the mind.

“What’s female beauty, but an air divine,
Through which the mind’s all gentle graces shine?
These, like the sun, irradiate all between;
The body charms, because the soul is seen.
Hence men are often captives of a face,
They know not why; of no peculiar grace.
Some forms, though bright, no mortal man can bear;
Some, none resist, tho’ not exceeding fair.”

Beauty, my dear girls, is indeed a desirable quality. Neither the pen of the moralist, nor the spleen of the satirist, nor the envy of such as want it, could ever bring it into contempt or neglect. Yet mere external beauty is transient as the meteor, and frail as the bubble, which floats on the surface of the watery element.

“Behold the disconsolate and despised Flirtilla! and from her fate learn not to trust in the effects or duration of this adventitious quality.

“Early in life, Flirtilla was taught that her charms were irresistible; that she might aspire to an absolute ascendency over the hearts and passions of her votaries. A superficial, but fashionable education added the allurements of art to those of person, and rendered her a finished coquette.

“Her beauty and the gaiety of her manners gained her numerous admirers, who swarmed around, like the insect tribe, eager to sip the fragrance of the equally fair and fading rose. The incense of flattery, in every form, was her tribute.

“Elated by this, she gave free scope to her ruling passions, the love of pleasure and dissipation. Her best days were spent in the chase of vanity; and she culled the flowers of life, without considering, that substantial fruit would be required at a more advanced period, as a substitute for the fading blossoms of youth. Her mind was barren of improvement, and consequently destitute of resources.

“She vainly imagined the triumphs of beauty to be permanent, till its declared enemy, the small-pox, convinced her of the egregious mistake. By this she found her empire suddenly overturned. The merciless disorder had reduced her to a level with the generality of her sex, in appearance, and, in enjoyment far below them. Her glass faithfully represented this insupportable reduction. Regret and chagrin heightened the apparent calamity. She was remembered only as the contrast of what she once had been. Her lovers were disgusted with the change, and sought more pleasing objects of attention; while men of sentiment could not find a similarity of disposition, in her, to induce a connexion.

“Her female acquaintance, who had envied her as a rival, or feared her as a superior, now insulted her with their pity, or mortified her by remarks on the surprising alteration in her appearance.

“Finding no alleviation from society, she retired from the world to nurse, in solitude, the vexation and disappointment she experienced.

“View her now, peevish, discontented, and gloomy! Her ideas of pleasure were centered in that person, which is now neglected; in those endowments which have now forsaken her forever!

“Thought she studiously shuns; for she has nothing pleasing to occupy her reflections, but what is irretrievably lost!

“Miserable Flirtilla! thou trustedst in vanity, and vanity is thy recompense! How happy mightest thou have been, even in this change, if thy heart had been rectified, thy understanding improved, and thy mind liberally stored with useful sentiments, knowledge, and information!

“Cultivate, then, my young friends, those dispositions and attainments, which will yield permanent and real satisfaction, when sickness, adversity, or age shall have robbed your eyes of their lustre, and diminished the bloom and sprightliness of your forms.

“You are doubtless sensible that your happiness, in life, does not depend so much on your external, as your internal graces.

“The constitutional temper of your minds was given you by nature; but reason is added for its regulation.

“On life’s vast ocean diversely we sail;
Reason the chart; but passion is the gale.”

“Our passions were certainly implanted for wise and benevolent purposes; and, if properly directed, may be of great utility. This direction nature will teach, and education improve. To their precepts we must implicitly listen, if we would become respectable or contented.

“Examine yourselves, therefore, with impartial scrutiny. Find out your particular faults in this respect, and exert your unwearied industry to amend them.

“Possibly you may be naturally hasty, passionate, or vindictive. If so, how wretched, at times, must the indulgence of this temper render you! When reason, awhile suspended, resumes its empire, and calm reflection succeeds the riot of passion, how severe must be your self-condemnation, and how keen your sensations of regret! Perhaps an unkindness of expression to some particular friend, disrespectful treatment of an honored superior, ill-timed resentment to a beloved equal, or imperious and unbecoming severity to a deserving inferior, may give you the most painful emotions, and degrade you in your own, as well as in the estimation of every observer! To prevent this evil, accustom yourselves to check the first risings of anger, and suspend every expression of displeasure, till you can deliberate on the provocation, and the propriety of noticing it. It may have been undesigned, and, therefore, not justly provoking. You may have misunderstood the word, or action of offence, and inquiry may remove the grounds of your suspicion: or the person offending may be one with whom prudence and honor require you not to enter the lists. But if neither of these considerations occur, reflect a moment, that your own reputation and consequent happiness are at stake and that to lose the command of yourselves and your passions is inconsistent with the delicacy of ladies, the moderation of Christians, and the dignity of rational beings.

“Let every sally alarm, and excite you to rally and new-discipline your forces; and to be more strictly on your guard against the assaults of your foe.

“The character of Camilla is a pattern worthy of your imitation. While very young, Camilla was unfortunately deprived of the instruction and regulating hand of a discreet and judicious mother. Her father was too much immersed in business to attend to the cultivation of his daughter’s mind.

“He gave her the means of a genteel education, praised her excellencies, and chid her faults, without being at the pains of teaching her how to amend them. The irritability of her temper he rather indulged, considering her as a girl of _spirit_, who would make her way in the world, in spite of obstacles. She was naturally generous, tender-hearted, and humane; but her temper was as uncontrollable as the whirlpool, and as impetuous as the wind. Happily for her, she had an uncommon strength of mind, a ready apprehension, a quick perception, and a depth of understanding, seldom equalled. She saw her errors, was conscious of her failings, and a severe sufferer for her faults. But such was the extreme quickness of her feelings, and so passionate her resentment of any thing which appeared injurious or affrontive, that she could not always repress them. She married a gentleman of a similar temper, and of equal prudence. In the union of such violent spirits, great harmony could not be presaged. Their passions were lively, their affections ardent.

“The honey-moon in raptures flew,
A second brought its transports too;
The third, the fourth, were not amiss;
The fifth was friendship, mixed with bliss;
But ere a twelvemonth passed away,
They found each other made of clay.”

“Inadvertencies gave offence; frequent altercations arose; both were tenacious of their rights, and averse to condescension. Camilla saw the impending danger; she became sensible that the happiness of her life depended on amendment and caution; she resolved to avoid giving or taking offence, with the greatest diligence; to suppress every emotion of anger; and when she thought herself injured, to retire or be silent, till passion had subsided, and she could regain her calmness.

“This was a hard task, at first; but perseverance rendered it effectual to a thorough reformation in each.

“Her example and pathetic admonitions induced her husband to adopt her prudent plan. They found their mutual endeavors productive of real satisfaction, and happiness the reward of their exertions to secure it.

“To be vindictive is equally, perhaps more fatal to our own, and the peace of others, than to be passionate. Violent passions of all kinds are generally transient; but revenge is the offspring of malice, the parent of discord, and the bane of social love. It is an evidence of a weak and sickly mind. True greatness will rise superior to this ignoble spirit, so peculiarly ungraceful in a lady, and inconsistent with that delicacy and softness, which ought ever to characterize the sex.

“But an envious temper is, of all others, the most degrading and miserable. Envy is a malignant poison, which rankles in the heart, and destroys the inward peace, even while there is an outward appearance of serenity. That mind, which cannot rejoice in the happiness of others, is capable of very little in itself. To look with a grudging and evil eye on the enjoyments of our neighbor, must be a source of perpetual chagrin and mortification.

“Envy indulged, is a punishment to its possessor. Eradicate, then, the first, and every emotion of so corroding and destructive a nature; and endeavor to excel only by that virtuous emulation, which is productive of improvement and respectability.

“A kind, compassionate, benevolent, humane disposition is an invaluable treasure. It will render you blessings to society, and objects of universal esteem.

“In _you_ ’tis graceful to dissolve at wo;
With every motion, every word, to wave
Quick o’er the kindling cheek the ready blush;
And from the smallest violence to shrink.”—

“This amiable temper, however, may sometimes degenerate into weakness.

“Prudence should be exercised, even in the indulgence of the most engaging qualities. In the progress of life, occasions may call for that resolution and fortitude, which admit not of apparent softness; but such occasions very seldom occur.

“How alluring are the charms of sympathy and charity! Happy are they who always feel the one, and have power and inclination to exemplify the other!

“The diamond and the ruby’s blaze
Dispute the palm with beauty’s queen;
Not beauty’s queen demands such praise,
Devoid of virtue if she’s seen.
But the soft tear in pity’s eye
Outshines the diamond’s brightest beam,
And the sweet blush of modesty
More beauteous than the ruby’s seen.”

_Wednesday, P. M._

DRESS.

“Dress,” continued Mrs. Williams to her re-assembled and attentive pupils, “is an important article of female economy. By some it is doubtless considered as too essential. This is always the case, when it becomes the ruling passion, and every other excellence is made subordinate to it. A suitable attention to the etiquette of appearance is necessary to render us respectable in the eyes of the world and discovers an accommodating disposition, which is, at once, engaging and useful in the commerce of society. Females are taxed with being peculiarly attached to, and captivated by the glare of splendor and show. But I believe superficial minds are not confined to sex. Whatever form they actuate, to beautify and adorn it will be the principal object.

“A certain species of gaiety and airiness is becoming in youth. Young ladies, therefore, act perfectly in character, when, under proper restraint, they indulge their taste in the decoration of their persons. But they should be especially careful that their taste be correct; consistent with the modest delicacy which is the glory and ornament of woman.

“It is laudable to follow fashions, so far as they are governed by these rules; but whenever they deviate, quit them with express disapprobation and disgust. Any assumptions of the masculine habit are unbecoming. Dress and manners should be correspondent; and the engaging softness and artless simplicity, which grace my pupils, must be quite inconsistent with the air and attire of the other sex.

“A gaudy and fantastical mode of decoration is by no means a recommendation. It bespeaks a lightness of mind and a vanity of disposition, against which a discreet and modest girl should guard with the utmost vigilance. Extravagance is a great error, even where fortune will allow the means of supporting it. Many are the claims which the children of affliction and want have upon the superfluous plenty of the rich. How much better expended would some part of their redundance be, in relieving the necessities of such, than in decorating their own persons, with every ornament which art can contrive to create expense!

“Neatness and propriety should be the main objects; for loveliness needs no foreign aid to give it a passport. Neatness is too often connected with the idea of a prudish singularity; but no gaudiness of apparel, no richness of attire, no modishness of appearance can be an equivalent for it. Propriety is that garb which becomes our situation and circumstances in life. There certainly ought to be a difference between different ages and conditions, in this respect. Many articles, ornamental to Miss in her teens, would appear absurd, fantastical, and ridiculous in maturer years. Neither should the matronal robes, and the close cap hide the natural ringlets, and easy shapes of the blooming girl.

“It is a very false taste which induces people in dependent and narrow circumstances, to imitate the expensive mode of dress which might be very decent for those who move in a higher sphere.

“To endeavor to conceal indigence by the affectation of extravagance, is committing a great offence, both against ourselves, and the community to which we belong. The means of support should always be attended to. A conformity to these will render you more respected for prudence, than a deviation for the sake of show without substance, can make you admired.

“Louisa and Clarinda are striking examples. They were both the daughters of reputable parents, whose situations in the world were easy and comfortable, though not affluent. They were able to give their children a good education, but no other portion. Gay, volatile, and ambitious, Louisa was the votary of fashion. A superior in dress excited the keenest sensations of envy in her bosom; and a rival in appearance gave her unspeakable mortification. Dissatisfied with her natural charms, cosmetics and paints added to her expenses, and betrayed her folly. She had many professed admirers, who found her a willing dupe to flattery, and who raised her vanity by praising her excellent taste.

“Leander, a gentleman of liberal education, superior merit, and handsome property, cast his eye around for a companion to share and enjoy these advantages with him. Louisa caught his attention. The elegance of her person, and splendor of her appearance, charmed his imagination, and inspired the idea of a fortune sufficient to support her expensive style of living. He paid his addresses and was received with the most flattering encouragement. But how great was his disappointment, when he discovered the smallness of her resources, and the imprudence of her management! This, said he to himself, will never do for me. Were my income far superior to what it is, it would not be adequate to such unbounded extravagance. Besides, where so little economy is practised, while under parental government, what must be the consequence of that unlimited indulgence, which the confidence due to a wife demands? Were I to abridge her expenses, and endeavor to rectify her fantastical taste, it would doubtless foment dissension, discord, and animosity, which must terminate in wretchedness. He resolved, however, to try her real disposition, by gently hinting his disapprobation of her gaiety. This she resented; and a rupture, which ended in a final separation, ensued. She found, too late, the value of the man, whom she had slighted; and ever after regretted that folly which had irretrievably alienated his affections.

“The modesty and neatness of Clarinda’s garb next caught Leander’s eye. Conversing with her on the subject of dress, the justness of her sentiments gave him the highest ideas of the rectitude and innocence of her mind. A costly article was offered for her purchase; but she refused it. It would not become me, said she, nor any other person who has not an affluent fortune. If I had a sufficiency to buy it, I would procure something more simple and necessary for myself; and the overplus might render an object of distress contented and happy.

“Yet was Clarinda always elegantly neat; always genteelly fashionable. Frugality and economy, free from profusion and extravagance, enabled her to indulge her own taste entirely; and while she enjoyed that, she repined not at the fancied superiority of others. Leander found her all he wished, in appearance; all he hoped for, in reality. As their tastes were correspondent, and their highest aim, when united, to please each other, they were not dependent on the breath of fashion for their happiness. A compliance with its forms did not elate their pride, nor a departure from them, fill their hearts with peevishness and discontent.”

_Thursday, A. M._

POLITENESS.

“Still more important than your habit, is your air and deportment. It is not sufficient that these are pleasing to the eye of the superficial observer. Your behavior and conversation must be uniformly governed by the laws of politeness, discretion, and decorum. Else you will be disgusting to people of refinement; and the judicious and discerning will discover the weakness of your minds, notwithstanding the showy ornaments, intended to conceal it from public view.

“Inattention in company is a breach of good manners. Indeed, it is a downright insult; being neither more nor less, than declaring that you have not the least respect for any who are present. Either you do not value their good opinion, or you have something more important than their conversation to occupy your minds.

“You should always be attentive to those with whom you are conversant, let their rank and standing be what they may. Your superiors will esteem you for your respectful treatment of them; your equals will love you for your kindness and familiarity; your inferiors will respect you for your condescension and meekness.

“Attention in company will be advantageous to yourselves. Like the industrious bee, which sips honey from every plant, you may derive some benefit or instruction from all kinds of society. Some useful remark or information; some sentiment which may allure you to the practice of virtue, or deter you from a vicious perpetration, may repay your labor, and be serviceable through life.

“But should there be no other motive than that of pleasing your associates, and rendering them happy, by making yourselves agreeable, it may be considered as a sufficient inducement to the practice of this branch of good-breeding. Many girls, in the thoughtless levity of their hearts, divert themselves at the expense of others; and, with the utmost glee, point out any thing peculiar in the appearance, words, or actions of some one in the company, whom they select for a subject of merriment and ridicule. This, by shrewd looks, ironical gestures, or tittering whispers, is kept up, to the great mortification of the unhappy victim, and to the reproach and dishonor of the offenders. Such conduct is a breach, not only of the rules of common civility, but of humanity; besides being directly repugnant to the precept of doing to others as we would that they should do to us.

“Be particularly careful, then, not to mortify, or give pain to an inferior.

“Let the question, ‘who maketh thee to differ?’ suppress every emotion of ridicule, contempt, or neglect; and induce you to raise and encourage depressed merit by your notice and approbation.

“As far as propriety, delicacy, and virtue will allow, conform to the taste, and participate in the amusements and conversation of the company into which you have fallen. If they be disagreeable to you, avoid a supercilious avowal of your dislike. This, instead of reforming, would probably give them a disgust to you, and perhaps subject you to affronts. Yet where a disapprobating word or hint may be seasonable, neglect not the opportunity of contributing to their benefit and amendment.

“Are you conscious of superior advantages, either mental or external, make no ostentatious display of them. Vanity too often leads young ladies to obtrude their acquirements on the eyes of observers, inconsiderately apprehending they may otherwise be unnoticed. Such forwardness always subjects them to censure, ridicule, and envy; the expressions of which destroy that self-approbation which retiring merit invariably enjoys. However, exert that dignity of virtue which will render you independent of caprice, calumny, and unprovoked satire.

“Make no ungenerous, or ill-natured remarks on the company, or on the individuals of which it is composed.

“If you dislike them, avoid them in future. If you witness errors, faults, or improprieties, conceal, or at least extenuate them, as much as possible.

“Make just allowances for those who may differ from you in opinion; and be cautious never to misrepresent, or circulate what appears amiss to you, and must, if exposed, be injurious to others. Charity hides a multitude of faults. Certainly then, charity will never aggravate nor create them.

“To give currency to a report, which tends to the disadvantage and dishonor of another, is defaming; and defamation is a species of cruelty, which can never be expiated.

“Of this the unhappy, though imprudent Eudocia, is an exemplification.

“Eudocia was young, gay, and charming. A levity of disposition, which the innocence of her heart attempted not to restrain, sometimes gave the tongue of slander pretence to aim its envenomed shafts at her character, and to misrepresent her sprightliness.

“Independent in fortune; still more so in mind, calumny gave her no pain, while she was conscious of the rectitude of her intentions.

“Leontine was a gentleman of property; agreeable in his person and manners; of strict honor, and extremely tenacious of it; but of a severe and unforgiving temper. He paid his addresses to Eudocia; was accepted, approved, and beloved. Yet, though he had gained her affections, he had not sufficient influence to regulate her conduct, and repress her gaiety. Her fondness for show and gallantry, in some instances, induced her to countenance the attentions, and receive the flattery, of men, whose characters were exceptionable, in Leontine’s estimation. He remonstrated against her imprudence, and gave her his ideas of female delicacy. She laughed at his gravity, and rallied him on his implicit subjection to the opinions of others.

“Towards the close of a fine day, Eudocia rambled along a retired road, to enjoy the air. She was alone; but the hope of meeting her beloved Leontine, whom she expected that evening, imperceptibly led her beyond her intended excursion. The rattling of a carriage caused her to stop; and, thinking it to be Leontine’s, she approached it before she perceived her mistake. A gentleman of an elegant appearance alighted and accosting her politely, expressed his surprise at finding her so far from home without an attendant. She found it was Florio, with whom she had a slight acquaintance, having once met with him in company. She frankly owned her motive for walking thus far; and refused his invitation to return in his carriage. He renewed his request; and his importunity, seconded by her fatigue, at last prevailed. At this moment the detracting Lavina passed by. She saw Eudocia, and with a sneering smile, wished her a good night. Eudocia was unconscious of fault, and therefore fearless of censure. But the artful Florio, desirous of protracting the pleasure of her company, took a circuitous route, which considerably increased the distance to her father’s house. However, he conveyed her safely home, though not so soon as she wished. She found that Leontine had been there, and had gone to visit a friend; but would soon return. Leontine was just seated at his friend’s, when Lavina entered.

“She told the circle, that Florio had just passed her, and that he had company she little expected to see with him. They inquired if it was his former mistress? No, said she, he discarded her some time ago, and if we may judge by appearances, has chosen a new one. Upon being asked who, she presumed to name Eudocia. Every countenance expressed surprise and regret. In Leontine, rage and resentment were visibly depicted. He rose, and stepping hastily to Lavina, told her he was a party concerned, and demanded an explanation of what she had insinuated. She perceived that she had given offence, and endeavored to excuse herself; but he resolutely told her that no evasions would avail; that he insisted on the real truth of her scandalous report. Finding him thus determined, she related the simple fact of seeing Eudocia in a carriage with Florio, who was a known libertine, and accustomed to the society of loose women. Leontine asked her how she came to associate the ideas she had mentioned with Eudocia’s name? She replied that the lightness of her behavior had sometimes rendered her censurable; and she thought this instance, in particular, authorised suspicion. Leontine could not deny that she was culpable in appearance; yet made answer, that though scandal might feast on the failings of virtue, he believed Eudocia’s innocence much purer, and her heart much better than her detractors’; and taking his hat, he wished the company a good evening, and left them.

“His passions were on fire. He could not comprehend the mysterious conduct of Eudocia. Her absence from home, at a time when he expected her to receive him, and her being seen at a distance in company with a professed debauchee, were a labyrinth which he could not explore. Though he doubted not Eudocia’s honor, yet her folly and imprudence, in subjecting her character to suspicion and reproach, he thought unpardonable. His resentment determined him to break the proposed connexion immediately; and, lest his love should get the better of his resolution, he went directly to the house.

“As he could not command his temper, he appeared extremely agitated, and angrily told Eudocia that she had caused him great uneasiness; and that he came to claim the satisfaction of knowing, why she had avoided his society, and made an assignation with a man who had involved her in infamy? Eudocia was astonished and justly offended at this address. With all the dignity of conscious innocence, she replied, that as yet he had no right to challenge an account of her conduct; but for her own sake, she would condescend to give it. This she did by a faithful and undisguised relation of facts. She then asked him if he was satisfied. He answered, No. For, said he, though you have cleared yourself of guilt, in my apprehension, you will find it very difficult to free your character from the blemish it has received in the opinion of the world. Saying this he told her, that however highly he esteemed her, so opposite were their dispositions, that they must often be at variance; and so nice was his sense of honor, that his wife like Cæsar’s must not only be virtuous, but unsuspected. She rejoined, that his sentiments were apparent; and if what he then expressed were his opinion of her, it was best they should part.

“Some further conversation passed; when promising to call, the next day, and satisfy her parents, and wishing Eudocia all possible happiness in life, he took his leave.

“The impropriety of her conduct, and her losing the affections of a man she too ardently loved, together with the cruel treatment she had just received from him, overwhelmed her with grief, and produced the most violent emotions of regret. She walked her room in all the anguish of disappointed hope. Her parents used every argument to soothe and console her, but in vain.

“She yielded to their persuasions so far as to retire to bed; but rest she found not; and the morning presented her in a burning fever. Leontine called in the course of the day; but the friends of Eudocia refused to see him. An account of her disorder had roused him to a sense of his rashness, and he begged to be admitted to her chamber; but this she utterly denied.

“Her fever left her; but the disease of her mind was beyond the power of medicine. A settled melancholy still remains; and she lives the victim of calumniation!

“To detract from the merit of others, beside the want of politeness which it betrays, and beside the injuries which it always occasions, is extremely impolitic. It is to confess your inferiority, and to acknowledge a wish not to rise to greater respectability; but to bring down those about you to your own level! Ill-natured remarks are the genuine offspring of an envious and grovelling mind.

“Call yourselves to a severe account, therefore, whenever you have been guilty of this degrading offence; and always check the first impulses towards it.

“Accustom yourselves to the exercise of sincerity, benevolence and good humor, those endearing virtues, which will render you beloved and respected by all.

“To bestow your attention in company, upon trifling singularities in the dress, person, or manners of others, is spending your time to little purpose. From such a practice you can derive neither pleasure nor profit; but must unavoidably subject yourselves to the imputation of incivility and malice.”

_Thursday, P. M._

AMUSEMENTS.

“Amusement is impatiently desired, and eagerly sought by young ladies in general. Forgetful that the noblest entertainment arises from a placid and well cultivated mind, too many fly from themselves, from thought and reflection, to fashionable dissipation, or what they call pleasure, as a mean of beguiling the hours which solitude and retirement render insupportably tedious.

“An extravagant fondness for company and public resorts is incompatible with those domestic duties, the faithful discharge of which ought to be the prevailing object of the sex. In the indulgence of this disposition, the mind is enervated, and the manners corrupted, till all relish for those enjoyments, which being simple and natural, are best calculated to promote health, innocence, and social delight, is totally lost.

“It is by no means amiss for youth to seek relaxation from severer cares and labors, in a participation of diversions, suited to their age, sex, and station in life. But there is great danger of their lively imaginations’ hurrying them into excess, and detaching their affections from the ennobling acquisitions of moral improvement, and refined delicacy. Guard, then against those amusements which have the least tendency to sully the purity of your minds.

“Loose and immoral books; company, whose manners are licentious, however gay and fashionable; conversation which is even tinctured with profaneness or obscenity; plays in which the representation is immodest, and offensive to the ear of chastity; indeed, pastimes of every description, from which no advantage can be derived, should not be countenanced; much less applauded. Why should those things afford apparent satisfaction in a crowd which would call forth the blush of indignation in more private circles? This question is worthy the serious attention of those ladies, who at the theatre, can hardly restrain their approbation of expressions and actions, which at their houses, would be intolerably rude and indecent, in their most familiar friends!

“Cards are so much the taste of the present day, that to caution my pupils against the too frequent use of them may be thought old fashioned in the extreme. I believe it, however, to be a fascinating game, which occupies the time, without yielding any kind of pleasure or profit. As the satirist humorously observes,

“The love of gaming is the worst of ills;
With ceaseless storms the blacken’d soul it fills;
Inveighs at Heaven, neglects the ties of blood;
Destroys the power and will of doing good;
Kills health, pawns honor, plunges in disgrace;
And, what is still more dreadful—spoils your face.”

“One thing at least is certain; it entirely excludes all rational conversation. That delightful interchange of sentiment, which the social meeting of friends is calculated to afford and from which many advantages might be derived, is utterly excluded.

“Reading, writing, drawing, needle-work, dancing, music, walking, riding, and conversation are amusements well adapted to yield pleasure and utility. From either of these, within proper bounds, there is no danger of injury to the person or mind; though to render even our diversions agreeable, they must be enjoyed with moderation, and variously and prudently conducted. Such as are peculiarly exhilarating to the spirits, however innocent in themselves, should be more cautiously and sparingly indulged.

“When once the mind becomes too much relaxed by dissipating pastimes, it is proportionably vitiated, and negligent of those nice attentions to the rules of reserve and decorum which ought never to be suspended. Intoxicating is the full draught of pleasure to the youthful mind; and fatal are the effects of unrestrained passions.

“Flavia was the daughter of a gentleman, whose political principles obliged him to leave his country at the commencement of the American revolution. At that time she was at nurse in a neighboring village; between which and the metropolis all communication being cut off, he was reduced to the necessity of leaving her to the mercy of those to whom she was entrusted. Having received her from pecuniary motives only, they no sooner found themselves deprived of the profits of their labor and care, than they sought relief by an application to the town for her support. A wealthy farmer in the vicinity, who had often seen and been pleased with the dawning charms of Flavia, pitied her condition, and having no children of his own, resolved to shelter her from the impending storm, till she could be better provided for. At his house she was brought up in a homely, though comfortable manner. The good man and his wife were excessively fond of her, and gave her every instruction and advantage in their power. Plain truths were liberally inculcated, and every exertion made to give her a habit of industry and good nature. Flavia requited their kindness by an obliging and cheerful, a docile and submissive deportment. As she advanced in years, she increased in beauty. Her amiable disposition rendered her beloved, and her personal accomplishments made her admired by all the village swains. The approbating smile of Flavia was the reward of their toils, and the favor of her hand in the rustic dance was emulously sought.

“In this state, Flavia was happy. Health and innocence were now her portion; nor had ambition as yet taught her to sigh for pleasure beyond the reach of her attainment.

“But the arrival of her father, who had been permitted to return, and re-possess the estate which he had abandoned, put a period to the simplicity and peace of Flavia’s mind. He sought and found her; and though sensible of his obligations to her foster-parents for snatching her from want and distress, still he could not prevail on himself to make so great a sacrifice to gratitude as they wished, by permitting his daughter to spend her days in obscurity. The lively fancy of Flavia was allured by the splendid promises and descriptions of her father; and she readily consented to leave the friends of her childhood and youth, and explore the walks of fashionable life.

“When she arrived in town, what new scenes opened upon the dazzled eyes of the admiring, and admired Flavia!

“Wealth, with its attendant train of splendid forms and ceremonies, courted her attention, and every species of dissipating amusement, sanctioned by the name of pleasure, beguiled the hours and charmed the imagination of the noviciate. Each enchanting scene she painted to herself in the brightest colours; and her experienced heart promised her happiness without allay. Flattery gave her a thousand charms which she was hitherto unconscious of possessing, and the obsequiousness of the gaudy train around raised her vanity to the highest pitch of arrogance and pride. Behold Flavia, now, launched into the whirlpool of fashionable folly. Balls, plays, cards, and parties engross every portion of her time.

“Her father saw, too late, the imprudence of his unbounded indulgence; and his egregious mistake, in so immediately reversing her mode of life, without first furnishing her mind with sufficient knowledge and strength to repel temptation. He endeavored to regulate and restrain her conduct; but in vain. She complained of this, as an abridgment of her liberty, and took advantage of his doating fondness to practise every excess. Involved in expenses (of which losses at play composed a considerable part) beyond her power to defray, in this embarrassing dilemma, she was reduced to the necessity of accepting the treacherous offer of Marius to advance money for the support of her extravagance. Obligated by his apparent kindness, she could not refuse the continuance of his acquaintance, till his delusive arts had obtained the reward he proposed to himself, in the sacrifice of her honor. At length she awoke to a trembling sense of her guilt, and found it fatal to her peace, reputation, and happiness.

“Wretched Flavia! no art could conceal thy shame! The grief of her mind, her retirement from company, and the alteration in her appearance, betrayed her to her father’s observation. Highly incensed at the ingratitude and baseness of her conduct, he refused to forgive her; but sent her from the ensnaring pleasures of the town, to languish out the remainder of life in solitude and obscurity.”

_Friday, A. M._

FILIAL AND FRATERNAL AFFECTION.

“The filial and fraternal are the first duties of a single state. The obligations you are under to your parents cannot be discharged, but by a uniform and cheerful obedience; an unreserved and ready compliance with their wishes, added to the most diligent attention to their ease and happiness. The virtuous and affectionate behaviour of children is the best compensation, in their power, for that unwearied care and solicitude which parents, only, know. Upon daughters, whose situation and employments lead them more frequently into scenes of domestic tenderness; who are often called to smooth the pillow of sick and aged parents, and to administer with a skilful and delicate hand the cordial, restorative to decaying nature, and endearing sensibility, and a dutiful acquiescence in the dispositions, and even peculiarities of those from whom they have derived existence, are indispensably incumbent.

“Such a conduct will yield a satisfaction of mind more than equivalent to any little sacrifices of inclination or humour which may be required at your hands.

“Pope, among all his admired poetry, has not six lines more beautifully expressive than the following:

“Me, let the pious office long engage,
To rock the cradle of declining age;
With lenient arts extend a mother’s breath,
Make languor smile, and smooth the bed of death;
Explore the thought, explain the asking eye,
And keep awhile one parent from the sky!”

“Next in rank and importance to filial piety, is fraternal love. This is a natural affection which you cannot too assiduously cultivate. How delightful to see children of the same family dwell together in unity; promoting each other’s welfare, and emulous only to excel in acts of kindness and good will. Between brothers and sisters the connexion is equally intimate and endearing. There is such a union of interests, and such an undivided participation of enjoyments, that every sensible and feeling mind must value the blessings of family friendship and peace.

“Strive, therefore, my dear pupils, to promote them, as objects which deserve your particular attention; as attainments which will not fail richly to reward your labour.

“Prudelia, beside other amiable endowments of person and mind, possessed the most lively sensibility, and ardent affections.

“The recommendations of her parents, united to her own wishes, had induced her to give her hand to Clodius, a gentleman of distinguished merit. He was a foreigner; and his business required his return to his native country.

“Prudelia bid a reluctant adieu to her friends, and embarked with him. She lived in affluence, and was admired and caressed by all that knew her, while a lovely family was rising around her. Yet these pleasing circumstances and prospects could not extinguish or alienate that affection, which still glowed in her breast for the natural guardians and companions of her childhood and youth.

“With the deepest affliction she heard the news of her father’s death, and the embarrassed situation in which he had left his affairs. She was impatient to console her widowed mother, and to minister to her necessities. For these purposes, she prevailed on her husband to consent that she should visit her, though it was impossible for him to attend her. With all the transport of dutiful zeal, she flew to the arms of her bereaved parent. But how great was her astonishment and grief, when told that her only sister had been deluded by an affluent villain, and by his insidious arts, seduced from her duty, her honor, and her home! The emotions of pity, indignation, regret, and affection, overwhelmed her, at first; but recollecting herself, and exerting all her fortitude, she nobly resolved, if possible, to snatch the guilty, yet beloved Myra, from ruin, rather than revenge her injured family by abandoning her to the infamy she deserved. To this intent she wrote her a pathetic letter, lamenting her elopement, but entreating her, notwithstanding, to return and receive her fraternal embrace. But Myra, conscious of her crime, and unworthiness of her sister’s condescension and kindness, and above all, dreading the superiority of her virtue, refused the generous invitation. Prudelia was not thus to be vanquished in her benevolent undertaking. She even followed her to her lodgings, and insisted on an interview. Here she painted, in the most lively colours, the heinousness of her offence, and the ignominy and wretchedness that awaited her. Her affection allured, her reasoning convinced her backsliding sister. Upon the promise of forgiveness from her mother, Myra consented to leave her infamous paramour, and re-trace the paths of rectitude and virtue.

“Her seducer was absent on a journey. She, therefore, wrote him a farewell letter, couched in terms of sincere penitence for her transgression, and determined resolution of amendment in future, and left the house. Thus restored and reconciled to her friends, Myra appeared in quite another character.

“Prudelia tarried with her mother till she had adjusted her affairs, and seen her comfortably settled and provided for. Then taking her reclaimed sister with her, she returned to her anxiously expecting family. The uprightness and modesty of Myra’s conduct, ever after, rendered her universally esteemed, though the painful consciousness of her defection was never extinguished in her own bosom.

“A constant sense of her past misconduct depressed her spirits, and cast a gloom over her mind; yet she was virtuous, though pensive, during the remainder of her life.

“With this, and other salutary effects in view, how necessary, how important are filial and fraternal affection!”

_Friday, P. M._

FRIENDSHIP.

“Friendship is a term much insisted on by young people; but, like many others more frequently used than understood. A friend, with girls in general, is an intimate acquaintance, whose taste and pleasures are similar to their own; who will encourage, or at least connive at their foibles and faults, and communicate with them every secret; in particular those of love and gallantry, in which those of the other sex are concerned. By such friends their errors and stratagems are flattered and concealed, while the prudent advice of real friendship is neglected, till they find too late, how fictitious a character, and how vain a dependence they have chosen.

“Augusta and Serena were educated at the same school, resided in the same neighborhood, and were equally volatile in their tempers, and dissipated in their manners. Hence every plan of amusement was concerted and enjoyed together. At the play, the ball, the card-table and every other party of pleasure, they were companions.

“Their parents saw that this intimacy strengthened the follies of each; and strove to disengage their affections, that they might turn their attention to more rational entertainments, and more judicious advisers. But they gloried in their friendship, and thought it a substitute for every other virtue. They were the dupes of adulation, and the votaries of coquetry.

“The attentions of a libertine, instead of putting them on their guard against encroachments, induced them to triumph in their fancied conquests, and to boast of resolution sufficient to shield them from delusion.

“Love, however, which with such dispositions, is the pretty play-thing of imagination, assailed the tender heart of Serena. A gay youth, with more wit than sense, more show than substance, more art than honesty, took advantage of her weakness to ingratiate himself into her favour, and persuade her they could not live without each other. Augusta was the confident of Serena. She fanned the flame, and encouraged her resolution of promoting her own felicity, though at the expense of every other duty. Her parents suspected her amour, remonstrated against the man, and forbade her forming any connexion with him, on pain of their displeasure. She apparently acquiesced; but flew to Augusta for counsel and relief. Augusta soothed her anxiety, and promised to assist her in the accomplishment of all her wishes. She accordingly contrived means for a clandestine intercourse, both personal and epistolary.

“Aristus was a foreigner, and avowed his purpose of returning to his native country, urging her to accompany him. Serena had a fortune, independent of her parents, left her by a deceased relation. This, with her hand, she consented to give to her lover, and to quit a country, in which she acknowledged but one friend. Augusta praised her fortitude, and favored her design. She accordingly eloped, and embarked. Her parents were almost distracted by her imprudent and undutiful conduct, and their resentment fell on Augusta, who had acted contrary to all the dictates of integrity and friendship, in contributing to her ruin; for ruin it proved. Her ungrateful paramour, having rioted on the property which she bestowed, abandoned her to want and despair. She wrote to her parents, but received no answer. She represented her case to Augusta, and implored relief from her friendship; but Augusta alleged that she had already incurred the displeasure of her family on her account and chose not again to subject herself to censure by the same means.

“Serena at length returned to her native shore, and applied in person to Augusta, who coolly told her that she wished no intercourse with a vagabond, and then retired. Her parents refused to receive her into their house; but from motives of compassion and charity, granted her a small annuity, barely sufficient to keep her and her infant from want.

“Too late she discovered her mistaken notions of friendship; and learned by sad experience, that virtue must be its foundation, or sincerity and constancy can never be its reward.

“Sincerity and constancy are essential ingredients in virtuous friendship. It invariably seeks the permanent good of its object; and in so doing, will advise, caution and reprove, with all the frankness of undissembled affection. In the interchange of genuine friendship, flattery is utterly excluded. Yet, even in the most intimate connexions of this kind, a proper degree of respect, attention and politeness must be observed. You are not so far to presume on the partiality of friendship, as to hazard giving offence, and wounding the feelings of persons, merely because you think their regard for you will plead your excuse, and procure your pardon. Equally cautious should you be, of taking umbrage at circumstances which are undesignedly offensive.

“Hear the excellent advice of the wise son of Sirach, upon this subject:

“Admonish thy friend; it may be he hath not done it; and if he have done it, that he do it no more. Admonish thy friend; it may be he hath not said it; and if he have, that he speak it not again. Admonish thy friend; for many times it is a slander; and believe not every tale. There is one that slippeth in his speech, but not from his heart; and who is he that offendeth not with his tongue?”

“Be not hasty in forming friendships; but deliberately examine the principles, disposition, temper and manners, of the person you wish to sustain this important character. Be well assured that they are agreeable to your own, and such as merit your entire esteem and confidence, before you denominate her your friend. You may have many general acquaintances, with whom you are pleased and entertained; but in the chain of friendship there is a still closer link.

“Reserve will wound it, and distrust destroy,
Deliberate on all things with thy friend:
But since friends grow not thick on every bough
Nor ev’ry friend unrotten at the core,
First on thy friend, deliberate with thyself:
Pause, ponder, first: not eager in the choice,
Nor jealous of the chosen: fixen, fix:
Judge before friendship: then confide till death.”