Part 11
I retired, after breakfast this morning, determined to indulge myself in my favorite amusement, and write you a long letter. I had just mended my pen and folded my paper, when I was informed that three ladies waited for me in the parlor. I stepped down and found Lucinda P——, Flavia F——, and Delia S——. They were gaily dressed, and still more gaily disposed. “We called,” said they, “to invite you, Miss Maria, to join our party for a shopping tour.” Loath to have the ideas dissipated, which I had collected in my pericranium, for the purpose of transmitting to a beloved sister, I declined accepting their invitation; alleging that I had no occasion to purchase any thing to day; and therefore begged to be excused from accompanying them. They laughed at my reason for not engaging in the expedition. “Buying,” said their principal speaker, “is no considerable part of our plan, I assure you. Amusement is what we are after. We frankly acknowledge it a delightful gratification of our vanity, to traverse Cornhill, to receive the obsequious congees, and to call forth the gallantry and activity of the beaux, behind the counter; who, you must know, are extremely alert when we belles appear. The waving of our feathers, and the attractive airs we assume, command the profoundest attention, both of master and apprentices; who, duped by our appearance, suffer less brilliant customers to wait, or even to depart without notice, till we have tumbled over and refused half the goods in the shop. We then bid a very civil adieu; express our regret at having given so much trouble; are assured in return that it has been rather a pleasure; and leave them their trouble for their pains.”
A most insignificant amusement this, said I to myself! How little can it redound to the honor and happiness of these unthinking girls, thus to squander their time in folly’s giddy maze! They undoubtedly wish to attract eclat; but they would do well to remember those words of the satirist, which, with the alteration of a single term, may be applied to them.
“Columbia’s daughters, much more fair than nice, Too fond of admiration, lose their price! Worn in the public eye, give cheap delight To throngs, and tarnish to the sated sight.”
Viewing their conduct in this light, I withstood their solicitations, though I palliated my refusal in such a manner as to give no umbrage.
Of all expedients to kill time, this appears to me, as I know it will to you, the most ridiculous and absurd.
What possible satisfaction can result from such a practice? It certainly fatigues the body; and is it any advantage to the mind? Does it enlarge the understanding, inspire useful ideas, or furnish a source of pleasing reflection? True, it may gratify a vitiated imagination, and exhilarate a light and trifling mind. But these ought to be restrained and regulated by reason and judgment, rather than indulged.
I wish those ladies, who make pleasure the supreme object of their pursuit, and argue in vindication of their conduct, that
“Pleasure is good, and they for pleasure made,”
would confine themselves to that species which
“Neither blushes nor expires.”
The domestic virtues, if duly cultivated, might certainly occupy those hours, which they are now solicitous to dissipate, both with profit and delight. “But it is time enough to be domesticated,” say they, “when we are placed at the head of families, and necessarily confined to care and labor.”
Should not the mind, however, be seasonably inured to the sphere of life which Providence assigns us?
“To guide the pencil, turn th’ instructive page; To lend new flavor to the fruitful year, And heighten nature’s dainties; in their race To rear their graces into second life; To give society its highest taste; Well-ordered home man’s beet delight to make; And, by submissive wisdom, modest skill, With every gentle care eluding art, To raise the virtues, animate the bliss, And sweeten all the toils of human life; This be the female dignity and praise.”
A proper attention to these necessary duties and embellishments, would not only correct this rambling disposition, but happily leave neither leisure nor temptation for its indulgence.
I intended to have given you some account of my agreeable visit here; but the chit-chat of the ladies I have mentioned, has occupied a large portion of my time this morning, and an engagement to dine abroad claims the rest.
I hope soon to embrace you in our beloved retirement, and again to enjoy the sweets of my native home.
“Had I the choice of sublunary good, What could I wish that I possess not there? Health, leisure, means t’ improve it, friendship, peace.”
My most dutiful affections await mamma; and my kind regards attend the young ladies residing with her. How great a share of my ardent love is at your command, need not be renewedly testified.
MARIA WILLIAMS.
_To Miss_ SOPHIA MANCHESTER.
NEWBURYPORT.
The extracts which you transmitted to me in your last letter, my dear Sophia, from your favorite author, Dr. Young, corresponded exactly with the solemnity infused into my mind by the funeral of a neighbor, from which I had just returned.
I agree with you that the Night-Thoughts are good devotional exercises. It is impossible to read them with that degree of attention which they merit, without being affected by the important and awful subjects on which they treat. But Young, after all, is always too abstruse, and in many instances too gloomy for me. The most elaborate application is necessary to the comprehension of his meaning and design; which when discovered often tend rather to depress than to elevate the spirits.
Thompson is much better adapted to my taste. Sentiment, elegance, perspicuity and sublimity are all combined in his Seasons. What an inimitable painter! How admirably he describes the infinitely variegated beauties and operations of nature! To the feeling and susceptible heart they are presented in the strongest light. Nor is the energy of his language less perceivable, when he describes the Deity riding on the wings of the wind, and directing the stormy tempest.
“How chang’d the scene! In blazing height of noon, The sun oppress’d, is plunged in thickest gloom, Still horror reigns, a dismal twilight round, Of struggling night and day malignant mix’d, Far to the hot equator crowding fast, Where highly rarefy’d, the yielding air, Admits their stream, incessant vapours roll, Amazing clouds on clouds continual heap’d; Or whirl’d tempestuous by the gusty wind, Or silent, borne along, heavy and slow, With the big stores of streaming oceans charg’d: Meantime, amid these upper sea’s condens’d Around the cold aerial mountain’s brow, And by conflicting winds together dash’d, The thunder holds his black tremendous throne, From cloud to cloud the rending lightnings rage; Till in the furious elemental war Dissolve the whole precipitated mass, Unbroken floods and torrents pours.”
Conscious of our own weakness and dependence, we can hardly fail to adore and to fear that Divine Power, whose agency this imagery exhibits to our minds. Nor are the devout affections of our hearts less excited, when we behold the same glorious Being arrayed in love, and accommodating the regular succession of summer and winter, seed time and harvest to our convenience and comfort. When nature, obedient to his command, revives the vegetable world, and diffuses alacrity and joy throughout the animal, and even rational creation, we involuntarily exclaim with the
“HAIL, SOURCE OF BEING! UNIVERSAL SOUL Of heaven and earth! ESSENTIAL PRESENCE, hail! To THEE I bend the knee; to THEE my thoughts Continual climb; who, with a master hand, Hast the great whole into perfection touch’d. By THEE various vegetative tribes, Wrapt in a filmy net and clad with leaves, Draw the live ether, and imbibe the dew. By THEE disposed into cogenial foils, Stands each attractive plant, and sucks, and swells The juicy tide; a twining mass of tubes. At THY command, the vernal sun awakes The torpid sap, detruded to the root By wintry winds; which now in fluent dance, And lively fermentation, mounting spreads All this inumerous-colour’d scene of things.”
Aided in our observations by this pathetic and pious writer, our hearts beat responsive to the sentiments of gratitude, which he indirectly, yet most forcibly inculcates in that devout address to the Supreme Parent:
“——Were every faltering tongue of man, Almighty Father! silent in thy praise, Thy works themselves would raise a general voice, Even in the depth of solitary woods, By human foot untrod: proclaim the power, And to the quire celestial Thee resound, Th’ eternal cause, support, and End of all!”
By this beautiful poem we are allured to the study of nature, and to the contemplation of nature’s God. Our hearts glow with devotion and love to the sovereign Lord and benefactor of the universe; and we are drawn, by the innumerable displays of his goodness, to the practice of virtue and religion.
You may, possibly call me an enthusiast. Be it so. Yet I contend for the honor, but especially for the privilege, of being a cheerful one. For I think we dishonor our heavenly father by attaching any thing gloomy or forbidding to his character. In this participation of divine blessings, let us rather exercise a thankful, and contented disposition.
I remain your’s most affectionately.
CAROLINE LITTLETON.
_To Mrs._ WILLIAMS.
BOSTON.
DEAR MADAM,
By her desire in conjunction with my own inclination, I inform you that Harriot Henly, is no more——Yesterday she gave her hand, and renounced her name together; threw aside the sprightly girl we have been so long accustomed to admire, and substituted in her place the dignified and respectable head of a family, in Mrs. Farmington.
Have I not lost my amiable friend and associate! Will not her change of situation tend to lessen our intercourse, and alienate our affections?
When I contemplate the social circle, so firmly cemented in the bands of friendship, at the boarding school, where the most perfect harmony, ease and satisfaction presided, I recoil at the idea of becoming less dear, less interesting, and less necessary to each other. It is with the utmost reluctance that I admit the idea of rivals to that affection and benevolence which we have, so long, and so sincerely interchanged.
The charm however is broken. Harriot is already married; and my friends are extremely solicitous that I should follow her example. But in a connexion which requires so many precautions, before it is formed, and such uninterrupted circumspection and prudence afterwards; the great uncertainty of the event inspires me with timidity and apprehension.
Harriot put into my hands, and I read with pleasure, the book which you recommended to her on the subject. But still we wished for your instruction and advice. The sentiments of a person so dear and interesting to us, are particularly calculated to engage our attention, and influence our conduct. Relying, too, on your judgment and experience, your forming pen may render us more worthy objects of attachment.
We, however, unite in assuring you of our gratitude for all past favours; and in presenting our sincere regards to the young ladies.
I am, with great respect, your affectionate and grateful
LAURA GUILFORD.
_To Miss_ LAURA GUILFORD.
HARMONY-GROVE.
DEAR LAURA,
The obligations under which you lay me, by your generous confidence, and affectionate expressions of regard, induce me again to assume the Preceptress towards you, and to gratify your wishes, by imparting my sentiments on your present situation and prospects.
I am told by my daughter, who had the honor of bearing your letter, that you are what I always expected you would be, an object of general admiration. Yet, I trust, your good sense will enable you duly to distinguish and treat the several candidates for your favor.
It is, indeed, my young friend, a matter of the most serious consequence, which lies upon your mind, and awakens your anxiety. Your friends are studious of your welfare, and kindly concerned that the important die on which the happiness of your life depends, should be judiciously cast. You doubtless remember, that I discoursed upon this subject in my concluding lessons to your class.
Disparity of tempers, among other things which were then suggested, and which you will doubtless recollect, was represented, as tending to render life uncomfortable. But there are other disparities which may be equally hostile to your peace.
Disparity of years is very apt to occasion the indulgence of passions destructive of conjugal felicity. The great difference between the sprightly vivacity, and enterprise of youth, and the deliberate caution, phlegmatic coldness, and sententious wisdom of age render them very unpleasant companions to each other. Marriage between persons of these opposite descriptions is commonly the result of pecuniary motives, with one party, at least: the suspicion of this, in the other, must necessarily produce discontent, uneasiness, and disaffection.
Age is naturally jealous of respect, and apprehensive of being slighted. The most trifling and unmeaning inattentions will therefore be construed amiss. For an excessive desire of being objects of supreme regard is almost invariably accompanied with a strong persuasion of being the reverse. Hence accusations, reproaches and restraints, on the one side, produce disgust, resentment and alienation on the other, till mutual and unceasing wretchedness ensue. Indeed, where interest alone, without this inequality of years, is the principal inducement, marriage is seldom happy. Esteem and love are independent of wealth and its appendages. They are not to be sold or bought. The conjugal relation is so near and interesting, the mind as well as the person is so intimately concerned in it, that something more substantial and engaging than gold is requisite to make it a blessing.
Marriage, being the commencement of a domestic life, beside the many agreeable circumstances attending it, has its peculiar cares and troubles which require the solace of a companion actuated by better principles, and possessed of more amiable endowments than outward splendor and magnificence can afford. In the hour of sickness and distress, riches it is true, can bestow bodily comforts and cordials; but can they be made an equivalent for the tender sympathy, the endearing kindness, and the alleviating attention of a bosom friend, kindly assiduous to ease our pains, animate our prospects, and beguile the languid moments which elude all other consolations? The sorrows as well as the joys of a family state, are often such as none but a bosom friend can participate. The heart must be engaged before it can repose with ease and confidence. To a lady of sensibility, the confinement of the body, without the consent and union of according minds, must be a state of inexpressible wretchedness.
Another situation, not less to be deplored, is a connexion with the immoral and profane.
How shocking must it be, to hear that sacred NAME, which you revere and love, constantly treated with levity and irreverence! And how painful the necessity of being constrained, for the sake of peace, to witness in silence, and without even the appearance of disapprobation, the most shameful outrages upon religion and virtue! May you never taste the bitterness of this evil.
Intemperance is a vice, which one would imagine no lady would overlook in a suitor. But, strange to tell! there are those even among our own sex, who think and speak of inebriation in the other, at the jovial and well furnished board, as a mark of conviviality and good fellowship.
How degrading and how dreadful must this enormity appear to an interested, affectionate and virtuous wife! What agonizing pangs of mortification and anguish must she endure, when she meets him, in whose society she delights; whose return she has anticipated with impatience, and whose happiness and honor are the moving springs of her life, intoxicated with wine; the powers of his mind suspended by the poisonous cup, and every faculty absorbed in the deadly draught! What a perpetual source of dread and apprehension must hence arise; and how often must the blush of indignant virtue and wounded delicacy be called forth.
The gamester is an equally dangerous companion. His family is robbed, not only of his company and his talents, but of that property, to the benefit of which they have an indisputable claim. His earnings are squandered among worthless and profligate associates abroad; while the fruitful partner of his life, and perhaps, too, a rising offspring, languish at home for want of bread!
How fatal is the tendency of such examples! How can that father inculcate the duties of piety, virtue and decency, who exhibits the reverse of each in his own conduct? And under what an unspeakable disadvantage, must that mother labor, in the instruction and education of her children, whose admonitions, counsels, and directions are practically counteracted by him who ought to bear an equal share of the burden! The government and superintendence of a family are objects of such magnitude and importance, that the union and co-operation of its heads are indispensably necessary. It is a little commonwealth; and if internal feuds and dissentions arise, anarchy and confusion must ensue.
Domestic happiness is the foundation of every other species. At times, indeed, we may enjoy ourselves abroad, among our friends—but a good heart will return home, as to the seat of felicity.
“——Home is the resort Of love, of joy, of peace and plenty, where Supporting and supported, polish’d friends And dear relations mingle into bliss.”
Since so much, then, depends upon a judicious choice, how important is it, that you examine well before you decide; and that you dispense with no quality in the man to whom you shall give your hand, which is essential to the virtue and happiness of your life. For this purpose, consult your judgment rather than your fancy; and suffer not superficial accomplishments, but solid merit to preponderate.
I have now endeavored to point out the most apparent and threatening dangers to which you may be exposed. But though these are avoided, many unforeseen accidents will doubtless occur to cloud your sanguine hopes. These, when there are no vices to produce them, may arise from follies, and from the indulgence of erroneous expectations. Little misunderstandings sometimes occasion disagreements which terminate in coldness and disaffection, and plant a root of bitterness which can hardly be eradicated.
Let prudence, therefore, be your pole-star, when you enter the married state. Watch with the greatest circumspection over yourself; and always exercise the tenderest affection, the most unwearied patience, and the most cheerful acquiescence in the treatment of your companion. Guard especially against being affected by those little inattentions and foibles, which too often give pain and umbrage without design; and produce those remonstrances, criminations, and retorts, which are the great inlets of strife, and bane of love.
You must bear with calmness, every thing that the sincerest desire of peace can dictate; and studiously avoid every expression, and even look, which may irritate and offend. Your own happiness, you will consider so intimately connected with that of your husband, as to be inseparable; and consequently, that all your hopes of comfort in this life, and perhaps too, in the next, depend upon your conducting with propriety and wisdom towards him.
I take the liberty, through you, to convey my congratulations to Mrs. Farmington. May her change of condition be happy, to the full extent of our most sanguine expectations, and benevolent wishes. I fully intended writing her on the subject, but having unwarily bestowed so much time upon you, that for the present, I must forego the pleasure. Some things in this letter, which you will doubtless communicate, are applicable to her case. These she will receive as friendly hints from me; and I am confident that her known discretion will continue to shed a benign and engaging influence upon her whole deportment and render her uniformly respected and beloved.
The bearer is waiting, and I can only add, that I remain your sincere and affectionate friend.
MARY WILLIAMS.
_To Miss_ CLEORA PARTRIDGE.
BOSTON.
DEAR CLEORA,
The pleasing hope with which you inspired me, when we parted last, of receiving a visit from you in town, has been constantly cherished. I have anticipated your arrival with the utmost impatience; but have endeavored, notwithstanding, to beguile the slow-paced hours by a useful and pleasing occupation; the revision of my geographical studies.
My papa has kindly procured me Doctor Morse’s last and much improved edition of Universal Geography, which with the assistance of a pair of globes he possessed, has afforded me the most delightful entertainment. When at school, I thought this the most agreeable study allotted me; never deeming it a task, but an amusement.
It affords me, as it must every true American, the sincerest pleasure to be furnished with the means of acquiring this favorite science, by my own countryman; and the spirit of Columbian independence exults in my bosom, at the idea of being able to gain an accurate acquaintance with my own and other countries, without recourse to the labors of foreigners.
I think the present generation are under special obligations to the active industry of Dr. Morse, in providing us with that necessary and rich fund of information, which his Geography and Gazeteer contain. From these sources we may derive a sufficient knowledge of the world we inhabit, without departing from our domestic sphere.
Come then, my dear Cleora, and without fatigue or expense, we will make the tour of the globe together. After investigating the local situation of different and distant climes, we will turn to the historic page, and examine the manners, government, character and improvements of their inhabitants. We will traverse the frozen wastes of the frigid zones, and the burning sands of the equatorial region; then return and bless the temperate and happy medium in which we are placed; and casting an eye around, exult in our peculiar advantages of soil and situation, peace and good government, virtue and religion.
The fine mornings of this season afford many delightful hours, before the heat of the day relaxes the mind and enervates the body. Come, then, enjoy and improve these, in concert with your faithful and affectionate friend,
JULIA GREENFIELD.
_To Miss_ MATILDA FIELDING.
HARMONY-GROVE.
DEAR MATILDA,
Last Thursday, after having concluded the usual occupations and sedentary amusements of the day, I walked out, towards evening, to enjoy the benefit of a cool and fragrant air, and the serenity and beauty of those rural scenes which have a powerful tendency to soothe and tranquillize the mind. When I had rambled in the fields to a considerable distance, I crossed into the road, to return home free from the inconvenience of the dew, which had begun to fall.