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Letters on practical

LETTERS

ON

PRACTICAL SUBJECTS,

TO

A DAUGHTER.

_ —

BY WILLIAM B. SPRAGUE, D.D.

PASTOR OF THE SECOND PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH IN ALBANY.

FOURTH AMERICAN EDITION,

REVISED AND EXLARGED.

ALBANY:

E. H. PEASE. 82 STATE-STREET.

1846.

PREFACE TO THE FIRST EDITION.

The following letters were originally designed
to be preserved in manuscript, as a legacy to a
motherless child. The circumstances which have
resulted in their being given to the world it is
unnecessary to state. The author has only to add
his earnest prayer that they may be read with
some degree of advantage by young females into
whose hands they may happen to fall ; and espe-
cially by those whom the righteous providence of
God has deprived of the benefit of maternal care
and instruction.

December 1, 1521

Digitized by the Internet Archive

in 2010 with funding from

Princeton Theological Seminary Library

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PREFACE TO THE SECOND EDITION.

The first edition of this book was published
without the author's name, and without the least
expectation that a second would ever be called for.
Repeated requests however were made at an early
period, that the work should be republished in a
somewhat enlarged form ; and but for professional
engagements, these requests would sooner have
been complied with. The letters which compose
the present volume are, with some slight variation,
on the same subjects with those of the first edi-
tion ; though they have all been rewritten, and
most of them essentially altered and enlarged.
Indeed the book as it now appears, though it is
styled a second edition, contains but few pages of
the work as it was originally published. It has
been the design of the writer to adapt it, in its pre-
sent form, to the various exigencies of a young

PREFACE.

female, and to furnish her with counsel and in-
struction which may be useful, not only during
the period of her education, but also in subsequent
life. Though the letters are addressed to his own
child, he regards her as the representative of young
females in general ; and his object in writing them
will be fully answered, if they shall contribute,
in the humblest degree, to elevate the standard of
female acquisitions and female character.

Albany, Atrril 12, 1831.

PREFACE TO THE THIRD EDITION.

In offering a new edition of this work to the
public, the author has availed himself of the
privilege of making some additions.

The history of this work, since the last genuine
edition was published, has been at once amusing
and vexatious. In the course of the last year,
notwithstanding a genuine edition, published
under the direction of the London Tract Society,
was circulating in Great Britain, some bookseller
in Glasgow took it into his head to republish the
work, under the title of the " Daughter's own
Book," omitting such parts as would be likely to
give offence to Unitarians, or to lead its readers to
suppose that it was of American origin. A book-
seller in Boston seeing it advertised in a British
catalogue, imported it as a foreign work, and has
since published two editions of it. Though the

Vlll PREFACE.

author has discovered in it no interpolations, he
has discovered very material omissions, which
give it quite a different character from the original
work, and he feels himself bound to state that
this is the only edition extant for which he is in
any way responsible.

Albany, August 1, 1834.

CONTENTS

LETTER I.

INTRODUCTORY,

LETTER II.

EARLY FRIENDSHIPS,

LETTER IV.

EDUCATION. VARIOUS BRANCHES, .

LETTER V.

EDUCATION. DOMESTIC ECONOMY, .

LETTER VI.

GENERAL READING,

LETTER VII.

INDEPENDENCE OF MIND,

Page.
13

18

LETTER III.

EDUCATION. GENERAL DIRECTIONS, . . 32

45

62

96

X CONTEXTS.

LETTER VIII.

Page.

FORMING THE MANNERS, .... 107

LETTER IX.
CONVERSATION, 120

LETTER X.
AMUSEMENTS, ....... 136

LETTER XI.

INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD, . . . 151

LETTER XII.
MARRIAGE, 162

LETTER XIII.

FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS, . . . 1S2

LETTER XIV.

PROPER MODE OF TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR, 194

LETTER XV.
PRACTICAL RELIGION, ..... 202

LETTER XVI.

SELF KNOWLEDGE, . . . . . .217

LETTER XVII.
SELF GOVERNMENT, ..... 230

COIVTE1VTS. xi

LETTER XVIII.

HUMILITY, ....

LETTER XIX.
DEVOTION, ....

Page.

242

252

LETTER XX.

CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE, . . . .261

LETTER XXI.
CHRISTIAN ZEAL, ...... 273

LETTER XXII.
IMPROVEMENT OF TIME, ..... 289

LETTER XXIII.
PREPARATION FOR DEATH, .... 29S

^

LETTERS

O.N

PRACTICAL SUBJECTS.

LETTER I.

INTRODUCTORY.

My Dear Child — It is for the heart of the pa-
rent alone, adequately to conceive of the tender
responsibilities that belong to the parental relation.
It is impossible, if he have the feelings of a man
— much more of a Christian — that he should con-
template a beloved child coming forward into life,
and beginning a career for eternity, without agitat-
ing in his own bosom the question, what the pro-
bable condition of that child may be in the future
stages of existence ? And, if I mistake not, there
are some special reasons why the solicitude of a
parent should be awakened by contemplating the
condition of a daughter during the critical period
to which I have referred. In addition to all the
other circumstances which render her an object of
deep interest, and in which she shares m common

14 LETTERS TO

with children of the other sex, she is, in a higher
degree than they, dependant on parental aid : there
is a sort of natural defencelessness in her condition,
independently of the fostering care of those from
whom under God she received her being, that
makes an appeal to a parent's heart, which, if it be
not a heart of stone, he will strive in vain to re-
sist.

If I should say that the common feelings of pa-
rental solicitude have something to do in dictating
the plan of addressing the following letters to you,
I should certainly tell you the truth, but not the
whole truth ; for your circumstances, though by
no means peculiar to yourself, have been pre-emi-
nently fitted to give you a high place not only in
the affections but the sympathies of your father.
It was my lot, in the wise but mysterious provi-
dence of God, to see your mother taken from you
at an age when you were incapable of estimating
her affection or your loss ; and to find myself at
the same moment looking for the last time on the
cold remains of a beloved wife, and listening to the
unconscious but piercing cries of a motherless
child. While I shall always remember that mo-
ment with emotions not to be told, I can never fail
to connect with it a recollection of the goodness of
God in ordering so favorably the circumstances of
your infancy, and in giving you, in due time,

A DAUGHTER. 15

another mother, who counts it a privilege to do her
utmost to make you good, and useful, and happy
You will instantly perceive that the circumstances
to which I have now adverted, could hardly fail to
awaken a deep and permanent interest in a father's
heart ; and I assure you they have had much to do
in bringing me to the resolution to write the fol-
lowing letters.

That you maybe the better prepared to estimate
the importance of the various topics to which I in-
tend, in these letters, to direct your attention, I beg
you to remember that what you are at the age of
eighteen or twenty, you probably will be, making
due allowance for the change of circumstances, in
every future period of life. In other words, your
character will by that time, in all probability, have
acquired a fixed direction ; — a direction which will
last through all the scenes of your prosperity and
adversity to your dying hour ; which will influence
and control all your prospects as it respects com-
fort, respectability, and usefulness here ; and
which will go farther, and shed upon your pros-
pects for a future world the brightness of immor-
tal glory, or the blackness of endless despair. I
admit that there are many exceptions from this re-
mark ; but I appeal to the records of human expe-
rience, I appeal to the observation of any indi-
vidual who has been accustomed carefully to no-

16 LETTERS TO

tice facts on this subject, whether the general truth
be not as above stated — That in the great majority
of cases, the character of a young female, at the
close of her education, is formed for life — of
course, formed for eternity ? I am sure this con-
sideration cannot fail, if you duly estimate it, to
give deep interest to every effort, and especially
every parental effort, that is made to form you to
virtue and happiness.

I am aware that much has been written on the
subjects upon which I am to address you, and with
a degree of ability to which I can make no claim.
Nevertheless, I am constrained to say that most of
the books with which I am acquainted, designed
for the special benefit of young females, have
seemed to me either deficient in some important
topics of instruction, or to contain views on some
other points from which an intelligent Christian
parent would be compelled to dissent. Far be it
from me to intimate that I expect in these letters
to supply all the deficiencies, or correct all the mis-
takes, of those who have gone before me : I only
promise that the views which I communicate shall
be such as, after mature reflection, and I trust I
may add, earnest prayer, appear to me to be con-
sonant with reason, experience, and scripture. I
have no ambition to say anything that shall appear
new or striking, but my whole object is to give you

A DAUGHTER. 17

plain parental advice on topics which do not Jose
their importance with their novelty. And it is a
thought upon which I dwell with some interest,
that, though you might read the writings of a
stranger with indifference, you will peruse these
letters with attention and perhaps advantage, when
the heart that dictates them shall have ceased to
beat, and the hand by which they are penned shall
have mouldered into dust.

I hardly need tell you that my first wish and
most fervent prayer on your behalf is, that you
may remember your Creator in the days of your
youth. Unless you embrace the gospel as a re-
deeming and purifying system, in other words,
unless you become a practical follower of the Lord
Jesus Christ, it would profit you nothing in the
end, though you should have every other accom-
plishment which can adorn your character or re-
commend you to the world. In the progress of
these letters, I shall dwell on the subject of prac-
tical religion with some degree of particularity ;
and I wish you distinctly to remember, while I am
directing your attention to other subjects, that they
are all subordinate to this. To see you walking
in the truth, and keeping the commandments of
God, will, more than any thing else, gladden the
heart of

Your Affectionate Father.
2

LETTER II.

EARLY FRIENDSHIPS.

My Dear Child — The development of the so-
cial principle is one of the earliest exhibitions of
human nature. This, in connexion with the be-
nevolent affections, constitutes the foundation of
friendship. Hence we find that strong attach-
ments often exist between children, long before
the judgment is sufficiently developed to decide
in respect to the qualities which should enter into
the character of a friend. A glance at your own
short experience will convince you that it has been
conformed to this law of our condition. You will
find on a review of your childhood, that you have
formed many friendships, without much discrimi-
nation ; some of which may have already given
place to others ; while, some perhaps, may con-
tinue to the evening of life.

The importance of early friendships is to be es-
timated by the influence which they exert in form-
ing the character. That this influence must be
very great, no one can question who has considered

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 19

either the constitution of our nature, or the ac-
tual results which are found in experience. We
are originally constituted creatures of habit, subject
in a high degree, to the influence of example ; and
though many of the impressions which the mind
receives in childhood are necessarily worn out in
its progress to maturity, yet those which remain
are wrought into the very texture of the charac-
ter, and become the most efficient principles of
action. Every person who attentively examines his
own character, or who is intimately acquainted
with the process by which the characters of others
have been formed, will find sufficient proof of the
reality and extent of this influence. Who has not
heard, on witnessing the wreck of parental hopes
in a ruined and wretched child, that it was the
melancholy result of bad early associations ? And
who, on the other hand, has not watched with de-
light the benign influence of a virtuous friendship
upon the unfolding faculties of the mind and dis-
positions of the heart ?

If so much importance be attached to the friend-
ships which you form in early life, 3rou will at
once perceive that the choice of your friends ought
to be a matter of the most deliberate caution : For
though your earliest attachments must necessarily
result from circumstances not within your control,
yet, in respect to those which are formed subse-

20 LETTERS TO

quently to the period of childhood, you may call
to your aid judgment and reflection. A rule on
this subject which you should never fail to observe
is, not too hastily to proffer your confidence — not
to consent to an unreserved intimacy with any one,
till you have gained a thorough knowledge of the
character. The effect of disregarding this rule
would be to lower the estimate which would be
formed of your friendship, to expose you, at least,
to the charge of imprudence, and not improbably,
to many more serious evils. You may safely cal-
culate that considerable suspicion is to be attached
to professions which are made by those who have
had little opportunity to know you ; while you
may reasonably expect, on the other hand, that
a friendship which is the result of an intimate
acquaintance, will be a lasting source of pleasure
and advantage.

In respect to the character of your particular
friends, I hardly need say that you are not to ex-
pect to find those who are free from imperfection
or sin. You will recollect that in common with
yourself, they belong to a race of fallen beings ;
and it would be strange indeed, if there should
not be occasion, both on your part and theirs, for
mutual condescension to each other's infirmities,
and mutual forgiveness of each other's errors.
Nevertheless, in the selection of vour friends, you

A DAUGHTER. 21

may safel\* place your standard as high as is con-
sistent with our present fallen state ; and you
ought, in no case, unnecessarily to contract an
intimate friendship with one whose example,
on the whole, you would not choose to imitate ';
for this obvious reason, that the tendency of such
a friendship to assimilate its subjects is so strong,
that there is little probability, in any given case,
of its being counteracted.

One quality which is of great importance in an
intimate friend, is an amiable temper. Everyone
knows how much of the unhappiness of life results
from the haughty, irritable, and unkind feelings
of those with whom we are even remotely asso-
ciated ; of course,, the evil becomes greater in
proportion to the nearness of the relation which
we sustain to them. A person of an unaimable
temper was never formed either to enjoy or impart
the highest pleasure connected with friendship ; for
though one of this character may be sincerely
attached to you, and may be, on the whole, quite
desirous of promoting your happiness, it would be
passing strange if your intercourse with her should
not frequently be embittered by hasty or unkind
expressions. I advise you, therefore, in the selec-
tion of your friends, to have particular reference
to the natural disposition ; and as a general rule,
not to admit to your unreserved confidence any

22 LETTERS TO

who would be likely often to wound your sensibility,
and whose feelings are not, and cannot be attuned
to the enjoyments of a refined friendship.

Another trait which it is desirable that your inti-
mate friends should possess, is a good and cultiva-
ted understanding. I do not mean that you are to
consider it indispensably requisite that a friend
should be possessed of uncommon genius, or should
have made great attainments in any of the depart-
ments of science or literature ; but there is a wide
difference between the accomplishments of which
I now speak, which fall to the lot of comparatively
few, and that intellectual barrenness which must
oppose an effectual barrier to all pleasant or useful
intercourse. One important purpose which you
ought to propose to yourself in an intimate friend-
ship, is the culture of the understanding ; for be-
sides the advantages for improvement which are
connected with an unreserved intercourse, it would
be obviously wrong that so much time as that in-
tercourse would probably occupy, should be spent,
without contributing, in any degree, to the strength
or development of the intellectual faculties. If
your most intimate associates are persons of 'good
sense and a good degree of improvement, you can
hardly fail to derive some intellectual advantage
from mingling in their society; you will breathe
an atmosphere which will operate almost insensibly

A DAUGHTER. 23

to invigorate the powers of your mind. But if, on
the other hand, you are most conversant with
those, whose minds are cast in an inferior mould,
and whose opportunities of mental cultivation are
very narrow, you will not only lose much positive
advantage, but it will be strange if your own mind
does not gradually come to sympathize in the imbe-
cility and barrenness with which it is so constantly
brought in contact.

As another quality which you ought to regard
in the choice of your friends, I would mention dis-
cretion. This is something quite distinct from
genius, but though a less dazzling quality, it is
probably more important both to happiness and
usefulness. Many a female of a brilliant and cul-
tivated mind has sacrificed her own character and
the comfort of her friends to indiscretion. If your
most intimate friends are of this character, the evil
to yourself will be twofold : you will partake of
the unhappiness which they will frequently bring
upon themselves, and you will often yourself be
subject to embarrassment and perplexity in conse-
quence of their imprudence. Never be attracted,
then, in the selection of a friend, by any appear-
ance of eccentricity. In almost every case, you
will find it associated with some kind of indiscre-
tion ; and wherever this exists in any considera-
ble degree, it will be enough to poison the most

24 LETTERSTO

intimate friendship. Let your friends be those
who have the reputation of being prudent and ju-
dicious. Better that they should possess these
qualities than every artificial accomplishment.

I will only add in respect to the character of
your particular friends, that it is exceedingly desi-
rable that they should be persons who maintain a
serious regard for religion, and who live under its
practical influence. In the formation- of your
friendships as well as in every thing else, you are
to recollect that you are an immortal and account-
able creature, and to keep in view your prepara-
tion for a future world. Nothing will serve more
effectually to prevent or banish all serious impres-
sions than an unrestrained intercourse with the
vain and careless. Whatever other attractions
such persons may possess, you may rest assured
that the single fact that they treat religion with
levity or indifference, is a sufficient reason why
they should not be your chosen friends. Indeed
the more engaging they are in other respects, the
more reason would you have to dread their influ-
ence as companions ; because they would throw
around an irreligious life so many more dangerous
attractions. Let your intimate friends therefore
be, at least, persons, who pay a conscientious
regard to the duties of religion : and if they have
deeply felt its power, you ought to regard it as an

A DAUGHTER. 25

additional recommendation. If you rightly im-
prove the privilege, you will not have occasion at
the close of life, to lament that your most intimate
associates were persons of exemplary piety. But
if you should choose friends of an opposite cha-
racter, you have great reason to fear that the
remembrance of it will embitter your closing hour
with unavailing regrets.

Let me here remark, as a direction which you
will do well always to keep in mind, that your
particular friends should not be very numerous.
My reasons for this advice are the following. To
meet all the claims which many intimate friend-
ships would involve, would require too much of
your time ; and would necessarily interfere with
the duties connected with your station in life.
You could derive no advantage from having many
intimate friends, which would not be as well
secured to you by a smaller circle ; and indeed just
in proportion as the number is extended beyond
a moderate limit, you will defeat the purposes
which such a friendship is designed to answer.
For it is impossible, from the nature of the case,
that you should bestow the same degree of confi-
dence and affection upon a great number as upon
a few ; and as the advantage to be derived is in
some measure, in proportion to the strength and
intimacy of the friendship, it is obvious that the

26 LETTERS TO

more numerous is your circle of particular friends,
the less satisfaction and benefit you can expect to
receive. It is equally true, on the other hand,
that the greater the number to whom you proffer
your confidence, the less will your confidence be
valued in each particular case ; for there is no
exception here from the general rule that things
are cheap in proportion as they are common. Be
satisfied then, with a few choice friends, and be
not ambitious to be the confidant of all your ac-
quaintance.

Another suggestion closely connected with the
one which I have just made, is, that you should not
be fickle in your friendships ; — not hastily give
up one friend for the sake of gaining another.
Wherever this disposition is discovered, it is sure
to excite disgust, and to attach suspicion to any
subsequent professions. Be as cautious as you
will in forming your attachments, but when they
are once formed, never let them be broken unless
on some ground that you can justify to your rea-
son and conscience. One single instance of the
unreasonable desertion of a friend, would do an
injury to your character which time could scarcely
wear out, or future fidelity retrieve.

It only remains that I suggest a few hints in
respect to the manner in which your intercourse
with your friends should be regulated. That you

A DAUGHTER. 27

should treat them with a high degree of confi-
dence is implied in the fact that you extend to
them a particular friendship. Never wound them
by any unreasonable expressions of distrust, or by
withholding from them any thing which they have
a right to know. Be particularly cautious not to
excite curiosity by dropping a hint in relation to
subjects which, from any consideration, you do
not feel willing fully to explain. Such mysterious
allusions often excite painful suspicions in the
mind, and have not unfrequently been instrumen-
tal in separating chief friends. It would be too
paltry a consideration for which to wound the
feelings, or to expose yourself to the loss, of a
valued friend, that you might be amused by wit-
nessing the common operations of curiosity.

But while I would have you as unreserved in
your intercourse with your friends as the relation
which you bear to them demands, I would also
have you beware of the opposite extreme of pour-
ing into their ears every thing which you may
happen to know, without discrimination. In your
intercourse with a censorious world, it would be
strange if you should not sometimes hear remarks
upon their characters, which, however unmeaning
in themselves, could not be repeated in their hear-
ing, without giving pain. Make it a rule, therefore,
never to carry any unfavorable report to a friend,

2S LETTERS TO

unless you believe that it will m some way or
other be productive of good. Not a small part of
the ill rumors which exist in society are to be
traced to a habit of gossipping, rather than to any
settled purpose to slander ; and if you should carry
every thing of this kind that you hear to your
friends to whom it relates, no doubt they would
often be severely wounded, where there was no
positive intention of attacking their character.

I would say, too, that in your intercourse with
each of your friends, you ought to maintain a
scrupulous reserve, in respect to what may have
been confidentially intrusted to you by others.
Your duty requires that you should pay a sacred
regard to the confidence which each reposes in
you ; and none of them can reasonably claim that
you should betray another for their gratification.
If you have several intimate friends, who are not
at the same time the intimate friends of each
other, you should bear in mind that in disclosing
to one a secret which has been committed to you
by another, you violate a fundamental principle of
good friendship ; for however you may confide in
the prudence and good faith of the person to whom
you make the disclosure, you obviously assume a
right which does not belong to you — that of giving
notoriety to the private concerns of an individual
beyond what you have reason to believe were

A DAUGHTER. 29

her intentions and wishes. And the case is not
materially different in this respect, even where
the friend who confides a secret to you, and the
friend to whom you confide the same, are intimate
with each other, there might be many reasons
which would render it desirable that it should not
be known to a third person, however friendly,
which might not exist in respect to yourself;
and at any rate, your friend does not feel, and
ought not to feel, when she intrusts a private con-
cern to your keeping, in which perhaps, she alone
is interested, that she thereby relinquishes the
privilege of deciding whether or not it is to be
communicated to others. You will therefore con-
sider the secrets of each one of your friends as a
separate and independent trust, which you are
faithfully and sacredly to regard.

There is one duty of great delicacy, to which
you may sometimes be called in your intercourse
with 3'our friends — I mean that of reproof or ad-
monition. Though I have advised you to set your
standard high in selecting your intimate associates,
and to choose those whom you believe to be the
best models of character, you will not be disap-
pointed to find them sometimes in the wrong ; nor
ought you to make every foible which you may
notice in them the subject of animadversion. At
the same time it admits of no question that occa-

30 LETTERS TO

sions may arise, which will not only warrant, but
imperatively demand, that you should take the
attitude of a reprover ; and on which to remain
silent, would be a gross violation of the obligations
of friendship. There was a mutual pledge virtu-
ally given when your friendship was formed, that
you would sacredly endeavor to promote each
other's best interests ; and you surely do not
redeem this pledge, if you suffer gross errors to
pass unreproved. The great secret of discharg-
ing this duty successfully, is to choose a proper
time and place, and to do it in the spirit of gentle-
ness and affection. Whenever you take this atti-
tude, instead of appearing to have thrown off the
character of a friend, and assuming an air of cold
severity, you should let every expression and look
testify, that you are, if possible, more under the
influence of genuine friendship than ever. If you
only succeed in making an impression that the
reproof is the honest dictate of true kindness, you
will be in little danger of failing of your object :
but if unhappily you leave the impression that it
proceeded from personal irritation, or from an
unreasonable misconstruction of your conduct, it
would be strange indeed if you should realize a
happy result.

In general, I would say that you ought to make
all your intercourse with your friends as profitable

A D AT7GHT ER . 31

as you can, both to yourself and them. It is
hardly possible but that the friendships which you
form should be to you a source of great good, or
great evil. If the time which you spend with
your intimate associates is chiefly devoted, as it
should be, to the improvement of the intellect and
the heart, you will never review it but with feel-
ings of approbation. But if, on the other hand, it
is given to levity and vanity, and if those whom
you regard with most affection, are co-workers
with you in murdering the hours which were
given for better purposes, then you have reason to
expect that the friendships which }^ou now form,
instead of being the channel of blessings, will
serve to poison your moral sentiments, and to
accumulate anguish for a dying hour.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER III.

EDUCATION. GENERAL DIRECTIONS.

My Dear Child, — In this and some following
fetters, I design to give you my views briefly on
the subject of education. I say briefly, for the
subject is of such extent, and has so many impor-
tant connexions, that one could scarcely think of
doing justice to it in any thing short of an extended
treatise. I shall confine myself to such hints as I
think may be most useful to you in prosecuting
your own education.

I would have you, then, in the first place, bear
in mind that the great object of your education is
to enable you to bring into exercise the powers
which God has given you in such a manner as
shall contribute most to his glory. For all the
noble faculties with which you are gifted, you are
indebted to the same Being who gave you your
existence; on Him also you are dependant for their
preservation ; and it is a first dictate of reason that
they should be employed in his service. But these
faculties are evidently susceptible of high cultiva-

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 33

tion ; and without it they can never accomplish
the purpose for which they are designed. The
object of education then is twofold; to develop
the faculties, and to direct them ; — to bring out
the energies of the soul, and to bring them to
operate to the glory of the Creator. In other
words, it is to render you useful to the extent of
your ability.

From this view of the design of education in
general, it would seem that no one, certainly no
Christian, could dissent. But who does not know
that in the education of females, even this funda-
mental principle has too often been overlooked ;
and that too by parents who have professed to
regulate their whole conduct by a regard to Chris-
tian obligation ? Especially has this capital error
been committed in substituting what is called an
ornamental, for a solid education ; in taking more
care to form the person than to form the mind ;
and the consequence of this has been that many
a girl of fine natural talents has come forth to the
world and shown us the fruit of a long and expen-
sive education, in the marvellous dexterity she has
acquired in the use of her hands and feet. But
are not females gifted with the exalted attribute of
reason as well as the other sex ? And where has
Providence intimated that in one sex this gift is to
be cultivated with the utmost care, and in the other
3

34 LETTERS TO

is to be left in all the wildness and barrenness of
nature ? What if the sexes have not, in all
respects, the same destination ? What if man is
destined to stand forth in the bolder walks of
society ; and what if woman has her station allot-
ted her more exclusively, amidst the retired scenes
of domestic life ? This may be a reason why
their education should in some respects be differ-
ently conducted ; but it can never be an argument
for leaving the mind of the female to rust with
ignorance, or moulding her into a pleasant, ani-
mated plaything. If it be desirable that the mind
of man should expand and strengthen by exercise,
it must also be desirable that the female mind
should share in some degree the same cultivation :
otherwise the dearest, tenderest connexion of life,
which ono-ht to be but another name for the most
absolute community of interest and feeling, will
be converted into an unequal, unnatural league
between intellectual refinement, and intellectual
barbarism.

You perceive then that the object of female
education cannot be attained, without careful at-
tention to the culture of the intellect. And let me
say that this must extend to the intellect in all its
powers — to the perception, the judgment, the mem-
ory, the reasoning faculty, &c. This is important,
not only because each of these various faculties

A DAUGHTER. 35

has its distinct office, and just in proportion as it
is suffered to remain dormant or turned out of its
proper direction, the end for which it is designed
is defeated ; but because the different faculties have
a mutual dependance upon each other, and like
the parts of a well adjusted machine, operate most
legitimately and most effectually where the balance
is carefully preserved. It is true indeed that much
respect should be paid to the peculiar constitution
of the mind : and it should be trained to put forth
its most commanding efforts by means of its strong-
est powers j nevertheless there are none of your
faculties which you have a right to neglect ; and
even the feeblest of them should be cultivated, at
least so far that the mind may attain its fair and
just proportion.

It is also desirable, in order that you may attain
the true end of education, that you should, as far
as possible, adopt a course which will combine
particular and general utility : that is, the various
branches which you pursue, should be such as
may be turned to some practical use, while they
minister to the general culture of the mind, and
give it the easy command of its own powers.
The most interesting view of the education of the
mind, is that which regards it as a system designed
to bring out its powers, and earn' it forward from
one degree of strength to another. What though

36 LETTERSTO

you may gain ever so much knowledge, if every
new degree of it is not a new degree of intellec-
tual power, you do not reap the legitimate fruit of
your mental toil. That this important ohject may
be gained, accustom yourself in every branch of
study to independent reflection, and let your mind
freely think its own thoughts, and be not afraid to
presume that the text book itself, where it is any
thing else than the Bible, may be wrong. Not
that I would encourage in you a habit of intellec-
tual presumption : that in any youth were disgust-
ing — in a young female it were intolerable. But
that habit of modest inquisitiveness, which asks
for a reason for whatever it assents to, and which
unostentatiously pushes its inquiries beyond au-
thority, or even in the face of authority, is always
to be commended ; and is fitted above almost any
other habit of mind to give you a knowledge of
your powers on the one hand, and a command of
them on the other.

Let me here say a word in regard to the use
and abuse of text books. That you may derive
from them important aid in the prosecution of
your studies there can be no doubt ; and there is
as little question that they are capable of being
perverted as auxiliaries to mental inaction. The
true use to be made of them is, not to supersede,
but to assist reflection ; not merely to communi-

A DAUGHTER. 37

cate information, but to give an impulse to the
intellect, by suggesting hints and principles which
it may follow out to their legitimate results. But
the danger is, that while your memory will be
laid under contribution to gather up whatever is
said in the text book, your other faculties will
find a ready dispensation ; and that in your reci-
tation you will be satisfied to confine yourself to
the very letter of your author. In order to guard
against this evil, let what is said in the text book
be regarded as only the basis of what you are to
learn ; and let it serve as a guide to conduct you
into other fields of thought ; and accustom your-
self to scrutinize every principle, and seek for a
solution of every difficulty, that may present itself.
Such a use of text books, while it will not expose
your mind to be enslaved by authorities, or leave
any of its faculties to rust through inaction, will
secure every positive advantage which a record
of the labors of other minds can impart.

But while you should keep in view the general
culture of your mind, it is important that each
particular branch that you pursue should be of
practical utility. It cannot be denied that the in-
tellectual labors of many of the schoolmen, pre-
vious to the revival of learning in Europe, were
of great extent, and were fitted to produce a high
degree of mental acumen. But every one who

• .

38 LETTERS TO

has looked into their writings, knows that the
subjects upon which they employed their faculties,
were of little practical moment ; and that they
would often pour out a world of learned nonsense
to establish a point, which after all was not worth
establishing. They indeed, by this means, ac-
quired an extraordinary power of discrimination ;
and this, the true theory of education, certainly
does not overlook ; but it aims at this end by em-
ploying the mind upon subjects of practical utility ;
subjects which it can turn to some account in the
every day affairs of life. And let me say that it
is important not only that the knowledge which
you acquire should be practical, but that you
should also gain the ability of carrying it out, as
you may have opportunity, in the various depart-
ments of human action. You might have every
variety of learning, and if withal you had not
learned to reduce it to practice, you could never
rise above an educated dunce ; whereas a much
less degree of knowledge with the ability of ap-
plying it, would render you at once respectable
and useful.

I have cautioned you against an improper reli-
ance on text books : it is equally important that
you should guard against depending too much on
instructors. Why is it that many a girl of good
natural talents, after enjoying the best advantages

A DAUGHTER. 39

of education for years, comes away from school,
a mere smatterer in most branches included in
her course, and thoroughly versed in none ? The
reason often is, that she has contented herself with
being in a literary atmosphere, and going through
the daily routine of recitations ; and while she has
depended upon her instructor to solve every diffi-
culty, has hardly taxed herself with the labor of
so much thought as was necessary to apprehend
his explanations. Now I wish you to be deeply
impressed with the truth that all the instruction
in the world will never make you a scholar inde-
pendently of your own efforts. There is no such
thing as thinking by proxy, any more than breath-
ing by proxy ; intellectual acquisitions must be the
fruit of intellectual labor ; and whoever will not
encounter the one must be satisfied to remain
destitute of the other. I say then, listen atten-
tively to all that is communicated by your in-
structors, and endeavor to make the best use of it ;
but that this may be the case, let their thoughts
become incorporated with your own, just as you
do, or as you ought to do, in relation to the
thoughts of the authors whom you study. Your
instructors may indeed co-operate with you in the
cultivation of your mind ; but if you undertake to
throw the whole burden upon them, the result

40 LETTERS TO

may indeed witness to their fidelity, but it cer-
tainly will witness to your folly and mortification.

Closely connected with the faithful exercise of
your own faculties, independently of text books
and teachers, is a habit of diligence. I do not
mean that your whole time is to be occupied in
study; this, while it would expose your health,
would impair the vigor of your faculties, and thus
diminish your amount of acquisition. I would
have you exercise your mind closely in study
when you exercise it at all ; and exercise it as
constantly as is consistent with keeping it in the
best state for successful application. While you
profess to be a student, regard study as your mam
business ; and make your amusement subordinate,
and, so far as possible, subservient to it. Recollect
that the period allotted to your education is com-
paratively short ; and that every wasted hour of
this golden season will tell fearfully on your
future destiny.

I have just alluded to the fact — and I wish
here to bring it more distinctly before you — that
in order that you may study to the most advantage,
part of your time must be devoted to relaxation
and exercise — how large a part, your own judg-
ment and experience must decide. Many a young
female of great promise has laid the foundation
of disease that has carried her prematurely to the

A DAUGHTER. 41

grave, by neglecting bodily exercise during the
period of her education. And not only has she
sacrificed her life to this unfortunate habit, but
her intellectual acquisitions have actually been
less, than if a due proportion of her time had been
devoted to the exercise of her bodily powers.
Whether, therefore, you regard the preservation
of your life and health, or your success in the
various branches of study, I earnestly entreat you
to subject yourself to a course of daily, systematic
exercise. In following this advice you will be
surprised to find how much you will gain in res-
pect to elasticity of spirits and vigor of thought ;
and that you will often accomplish more mental
labor in a single hour, than under other circum-
stances )Tou would accomplish in a day or even a
week. And more than this, instead of leaving
school with a constitution whose resources are
more than half exhausted, and with an ominous
paleness on your cheek, which seems to say that
the grave is ready for you, you will probably come
away in the bloom of health, and with strength
and resolution to engage in the duties of the
station in which Providence may place you.

Let me say a word in this connexion in regard
to the treatment which is due from you to your
instructors. Next to your parents, your instruc-
tors, if they are faithful, are most actively engaged

42 LETTERS TO

in the formation of your character, and they watch
over you with a degree of solicitude inferior only
to that which belongs to the parental relation. It
is obvious, therefore, that not only common pro-
priety but gratitude requires that you should treat
them with great deference and respect. You are
not indeed bound to receive every or any opinion
they may express without examination ; and you
are at liberty, unless for particular reasons they
should choose to forbid it, modestly to propose
difficulties which may be suggested even by their
own instruction ; but you are always faithfully to
consult their wishes, and yield a ready obedience
to their requisitions, and by your kind and respect-
ful deportment, to do what you can to diminish
the burden of care and perplexity that is insepa-
rable from their employment. I should do you
injustice to suppose it possible that you should be
guilty of such indecorum as deliberately to trifle
with the feelings of your instructors, or incur their
open and direct censure ; but your conduct to-
wards them, would never satisfy me, unless it
should be such as to secure their positive and
uniform approbation.

I cannot close this letter without again remind-
ing you that, as an accountable and immortal
creature, you are to regard all other kinds of im-
provement as subordinate to the culture of the

A DAUGHTER

43

heart ; and that your acquisitions, if they are not
sanctified by divine grace, will ultimately prove a
curse to you rather than a blessing. While I am
earnestly desirous that you should make the most
of your opportunities for improving your mind, I
confess that I am not without apprehension lest
you should neglect the one thing needful ; and
more than that — lest you should find temptations
to the neglect of it growing out of circumstances
connected with your education. If you have a
strong relish for study, there is danger that study
will become with you the all engrossing concern,
and will leave you without any thoughts to bestow
upon God or your soul's salvation . There is dan-
ger too that in your daily and accidental inter-
course with thoughtless companions, you will con-
tract the same habit of indifference to religion
which you witness in them, and this habit will
soon become fortified by the powerful influence of
example, and the dread of being singular. Such
has been the melancholy result in relation to many
a young female, who has commenced her educa-
tion not only under the influence of pious parental
precepts and counsels, but with a tender conscience,
with a habit of serious reflection, and with strong
resolutions for entering on the religious life. You
cannot wonder then that I am desirous to apprise
you of these temptations, and to urge you to be on

44 LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER.

your guard against them. And that you may re-
sist them effectually, let me counsel you to let a por-
tion of each day be sacredly devoted to meditation
upon your character and condition as a sinful and
immortal being, to the attentive perusal of the
Holy Scriptures, and to earnest endeavors for the
sanctifying influences of the Holy Spirit. In a
word, let me entreat you to become a new crea-
ture in Christ Jesus — a practical and decided
Christian. This will not only save you from the
danger of being fatally ensnared by thoughtless
associates, but it will impart to your example a
dignity, and loveliness, and power, which, under
God, may render you instrumental of their salva-
tion. It will at once secure to you the largest
amount of intellectual improvement, and will be a
pledge that all your acquisitions will be consecrated
to the best interests of your fellow creatures, and
to the honor of your Creator and Redeemer.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER IV.

EDUCATION — VARIOUS BRANCHES.

My Dear Child, — Having, in a preceding-
letter, called your attention, to some general views
of the subject of education, I design in this, to
enumerate some of the various branches which
will naturally be included in your course, and to
give you my opinion of their comparative import-
ance. Whatever relates to the selection and order
of your studies, I am willing to leave in a great
measure to your instructors, not doubting that
they will direct you with good judgment ; and I
am willing too to leave something to your own
taste and inclination ; but as this is a subject
which deeply involves the improvement of your
mind and the formation of your character, and in
which a father must of course feel a deep interest,
you will not wonder that I am disposed to give you
briefly the result of my experience and reflection.

You need not be startled, when I go back to the
very elementary branches of an education, and
begin to talk to you on the simple matter of learn-

46 LETTERS TO

ing to read. That you can read with, tolerable
correctness and some degree of fluency already, I
admit ; but you have at least as much to learn, as
you have learned already, before you can be, in
any proper sense of the phrase, a good reader.
My first advice is that you should adopt in every
respect the tones of nature — the tones which you
are accustomed to use in common conversation.
Almost every child contracts at a very early period
what is commonly called a reading tone ; a mono-
tonous habit of utterance, which, while it outrages
taste and nature, is generally with great difficulty
broken up. If you have already contracted this
tone in any degree, (and it would be strange in-
deed if you had not,) make it your first object to
get rid of it. When you sit down to read, do not
think it necessary to assume a more formal or
stately mental attitude than if you were sitting
down to converse ; and endeavor to utter the sen-
timents of your author in his language, in the
same easy and familiar manner that you would
talk off the same sentiments in your own. This
of course implies that you read intelligently ; that
you are able to enter into the spirit of your author,
and readily and fully to apprehend his meaning.
You can never attain what I wish in this respect
by the study of rules ; though these may be of
some assistance to you : you can only do it by un-

.1 DAUGHTER. 17

derstandirjg well what you read, and giving your-
self up to the simple dictate of nature; and by
often repeated exercises of this kind, you will ac-
quire the habit which I am recommending. Be
careful also that you utter each sentence, and
every part of each sentence, with perfect distinct-
ness, and in so loud a tone that all that ypu say
shall not only be heard, but heard without effort.
Guard, on the one hand, against fatiguing the
attention of those who listen to you, by the exces-
sive rapidity of your utterance, and on the other,
against furnishing them with an apology for going
to sleep by your extreme deliberation. In a word,
let it be your aim to read in such a manner, as
most deeply to impress the sentiments of your au-
thor, and of course, most effectually to secure the
attention of your hearers.

Next to reading comes the equally simple art
of spelling. It is true of this as of every other
elementary branch, and if I mistake not, in a
higher degree than of any other, that if it is not
learned at a very early period, it will probably
never be learned at all ; and hence it is not un-
common to find men, whose early education was
neglected, but who, by their own subsequent exer-
tions, have risen to the most elevated stations,
leaving evidence through life upon every thing
they write that they do not understand the art of

48 LETTERS TO

making words out of letters. This indeed may be
excused where there has been the want of early-
advantages ; but nothing else can render it tolera-
ble. I beg you will make it a point, therefore, as
early as possible, to possess yourself of a correct
system of orthography. This is a thing to be
learned partly by rule, but in a much greater
degree, by practice ; and without much of the
latter, I assure you that you can never arrive at
much perfection in this simple but necessary de-
partment of knowledge. Let me advise you in
writing never to run the hazard of committing an
orthographical error, in a case in respect to which
you are in doubt. Always settle the point on the
spot where it is practicable, by a reference to some
standard authority. In this way you will acquire
a habit of correctness, and a particularity of infor-
mation, which will soon make you independent
of dictionaries ; whereas, by adopting the oppo-
site course, you will not only run the hazard of
committing an error, in a case in which an error,
to say the least, is hardly decent, but you will
acquire a habit of inattention to your orthography
which may ultimately make it a task for a literary
friend to read your composition.

As for penmanship, I cannot say that I regard
it so important that you should attain to high
excellence in it, as in either of the preceding

A DAUGHTER. 49

branches ; and yet I am desirous that your attain-
ments in this department should, at least, be
respectable. I should be glad to see you write an
easy and graceful hand, and above all I would
have it possess the attribute of being legible. A
more odd conceit never entered a human head
than seems to have gotten possession of some at
the present day — that a hand which puts one's
invention to the torture, is a sure mark of genius.
If that be the test, I will only say that I choose to
have you run the hazard of being considered a
dunce, rather than torment me and your other
friends with illegible communications. How much
truth there is in the doctrine held by some that
the handwriting indicates the intellectual or moral
character, I will not undertake to decide ; but I
earnestly hope that you will take up no doctrine
or practice on this subject that will prevent you
from being a neat, plain, and if you please, elegant
writer.

I hardly need say that you can lay no claim to
the character of an accomplished scholar, untU
you can speak and write with correctness your
own language. And in order for this, you must
gam a thorough knowledge of English Grammar
and Rhetoric. These branches should be so
familiar to you, that you will, as a matter of
course, and without even being conscious of it at
4

'50 LETTERS TO

the time, judge every composition you read or
hear by grammatical or rhetorical rules ; that you
will as instantly detect an error in syntax or an
error in taste, as a delicate ear would notice a con-
fusion in musical sounds. I know indeed there,
have been those, who have written with great
power and even beauty, who have known nothing
of Rhetoric or Grammar, except as they were
taught by nature ; whose minds would pour out
" thoughts that breathe in words that burn," with
the same apparent ease that a stream flows from
its fountain ; but there is no reason to doubt that
even these pre-eminently gifted individuals would
have done better with the knowledge of which I
am speaking than they did without it ; and at any
rate they are exceptions from a general rule, and
therefore furnish no ground for any general con-
clusion.

It were hardly necessary to say that a habit of
easy and elegant composition is not to be acquired
in ordinary cases without much attention and long
continued practice. If you should find, therefore,
that your first efforts are rather tame and feeble, it
will be no reason why you should be discouraged ;
for no doubt there are many now on the list of fine
writers whose first efforts were as tame and feebl?
as yours. Nothing will serve more effectually to
improve your taste, and to give you an easy com-

A DAUGHTER. 51

mand of thought and expression than an intimate
acquaintance with the English classics. You will
also, especially in your earlier essays at composi-
tion, find it a useful exercise, after you lay aside
your book, to commit the thoughts of your author
to paper in your own language ; though I hardly
need say that you are never to attempt to pass off
any thing that you produce in this way as your
own, in any higher sense than it actually is so ;
for to say nothing of the immorality of such an
act, which I should hope would be sufficient to
deter you from it, there is no character in the
literary world regarded with more odium than a
plagiarist. Remember, that to form a good writer,
the first requisite is good thoughts — the second, a
good style. If you can command thoughts which
are striking and original, it is all the better, pro-
vided they are appropriate ; but endeavor always
to be appropriate at any rate. A striking thought,
introduced merely because it is striking, and with
nothing in the connexion to justify it, is a blemish,
and not an ornament ; an indication both of the
lack of judgment and of taste. Whenever you
have selected your subject, and have possessed
yourself of the necessary information in respect to
it, revolve it thoroughly in your mind, and see
what appropriately belongs to it; and then select
such thoughts or trains of thought as may seem to

52 LETTERS TO

you on the whole most pertinent and useful. Ar-
range your thoughts, so far as may be, before you
begin to write ; and then you will proceed with
far more ease, and probably with far more success.
Let your subjects be chosen, so far as possible,
with reference to the general culture of your mind.
It is too much the fashion of the day for girls, in
writing their compositions, to imagine themselves
surveying some beautiful moonlight scene, or lis-
tening to the sound of some magnificent cataract,
or contemplating nature in some other of her wild
or sweet or majestic forms: all this may be well
enough for an occasional exercise of imagination ;
but in general I advise you to select subjects of
more practical interest ; subjects which are adapted
to exercise the judgment, the reasoning faculty,
and other powers of the mind, and not merely to
awaken or improve the fancy. The secret of
forming a good style is to throw into it a due pro-
portion of gracefulness and strength. There are
a thousand good models which I might recom-
mend to you, but I am not desirous that you should
closely study any model as such ; the true mode is,
to be conversant with as many good writers as you
can, and to let your mind operate in its own way,
unembarrassed by the peculiarities of any. I am
always delighted to read a book on which I can

A DAUGHTER. 53

see the very image and superscription of the
author's own mind.

Of the various kinds of composition there is
none perhaps to which young females generally
are more inclined, and for which they find more
occasion, than the epistolary ; and I must do your
sex the justice to say that in this respect they
greatly exceed ours under the same advantages.
Without saying any thing here of the propriety
of your cultivating a more extensive or a more
limited correspondence, I would urge upon you the
importance of acquiring a good epistolary style, for
this, among other reasons, that it is an accomplish-
ment which is well fitted to make you agreeable to
your friends. And the only particular direction
which I would give you for acquiring it, sup-
posing you to be attentive to the general culture
of your mind, is, that you should throw your
thoughts on paper with the same ease with which
they fall from your lips. When you sit down to
write a letter, imagine that you are sitting down
to talk to a friend ; and if you adopt a style of
elegant conversation, you will adopt the very best
style for a correspondence.

You will not understand me as prescribing any
exact order for your studies, when I mention, next,
Arithmetic. I hardly need say that this is im-
portant, not so much, in the common acceptation

54 LETTERSTO

of the word, as an accomplishment, as it is for the
every day, practical purposes of life ; so that there
is hardly a condition in which you can suppose
yourself placed, but that your ignorance of this
branch must, at some time or other, subject you
not only to sad mortification but sore inconve-
nience. Of the new mode of calculating, commonly
called mental Arithmetic, I am unable to speak
from much practical knowledge ; but I must con-
fess that the results of this mode of teaching which
I have witnessed, even in small children, have
surprised me ; and I have no doubt that it is the
most easy and successful mode of communicating
this kind of knowledge which has yet been dis-
covered. But leaving to your instructors to decide
in respect to the best manner of your studying
Arithmetic, I must insist that you make thorough
work of it ; insomuch that no calculation which
you will have occasion to make, will ever embar-
rass you.

As to the higher branches of Mathematics, if
you have even a common relish for them, I think
you may pursue them to some extent with advan-
tage. If you are passionately fond of them, I
would say unhesitatingly, better prosecute them
so far as inclination may dictate and opportunity
admit. But if your taste points you decidedly to
a different course of study, and you find nothing

A DAUGHTER. 55

in this branch to attract or interest you, why then
I would consent that your mathematical studies
should be arrested at almost any point you please,
after you have become thoroughly acquainted with
common arithmetic. Algebra and Geometry, how-
ever, it were certainly desirable, should come into
your course ; and if you have intelligently advan-
ced thus far, it is more than probable that your
inclination w;ll lead you still further. It is scarcely
possible that you will ever be placed in circum-
stances in which these higher branches w ill come
into direct use ; nevertheless you may advantage-
ously study them simply as a matter of intellectual
discipline. It is an admirable way of learning to
think on general subjects with precision, and to
reason with clearness and force.

Of Geography, I surely need not say any thing
to you in the way of urging its mportance or
recommending it to your attention. When studied
intelligently and with the proper helps, it possesses
attractions to most minds which are irresistible.
And to say nothing of the interest which belongs
to it in itself considered, it is, as I think Lord
Chesterfield remarks, one of the eyes of history.
You will make yourself familiar with the earth,
not only as it is known to the moderns, but as
it was known to the ancients; as a preparation
for the study both of ancient and modern history.

56 LETTEKS TO

It were scarcely necessary to add that your ac-
quisitions in this department of knowledge, must
be made principally from the map or the globe ;
as all impressions which you derive in any other
way will be comparatively feeble and evanescent.
The construction of maps also you will find a
pleasant exercise, while it will serve to render
your geographical knowledge more distinct and
abiding,

I have adverted to History. This I would have
you study not merely with a view to gratify curi-
osity, but as containing an instructive record of
human actions, and as furnishing an important
means of becoming acquainted with the operations
of the human heart ; for what the nature of man
has been, so it is now ; and its operations are the
same, making due allowance for diversity of cir-
cumstances. In your attention to this branch, I
would advise you first to make yourself thoroughly
acquainted with some judicious outline of History;
and so far as possible to fill up every part of the
outline by your subsequent reading. In no branch
of study will you need the aid of system more
than this ; and though you may accumulate ma-
terials without end, yet if you fail to reduce them
to order, so that they shall be in your mind as so
many distinct and w*ell arranged classes of facts,
you will be able to use them to little advantage.

A DAUGHTER. 57

While I would have you familiar with every part
of History, both ancient and modern, I would re-
commend a special attention to the history of your
own country ; not only because it is your own, but
because it is the land which seems to be marching
forward in the order of Providence to a more glo-
rious destiny than any other. Every thing seems
to indicate that this country is to have a most
important part in the final renovation of the world ;
and this surely is a reason why those who have
their lot cast in it should understand well its his-
tory, that they may contemplate the wonderful
works of God by which it has already been distin-
guished, and in which no doubt will be found the
elements of its ultimate destiny.

Next to History, perhaps, may properly come
Mental and Moral Philosophy. These are indeed
distinct branches, but as they both relate to the
essential constitution of man, they may properly
enough be noticed together. If you will prosecute
them with success, you must bring to your aid
much patient reflection ; for you may rest assured
that any superficial attention to these branches
will be to no purpose. Every principle laid down
in your text book you must test by a reference to
your own intellectual or moral constitution ; and if
you find a disagreement between the principle as
it is stated by your author, and as it exists in your

55 LETTERS TO

own bosom, you have reason to inquire whether
your author be not in the wrong ; for the original
principles of human nature, and the operation of
these principles, are substantially the same in per-
sons of every class. The study of these branches,
conducted in this way, you will readily perceive,
is only the study of human character and human
duty ; and surely this cannot be unworthy to em-
ploy your faculties, whether as an intellectual
being, or as a probationer for eternity.

Some degree of attention you may properly be-
stow upon Mechanical Philosophy and Chemistry.
These, together with kindred sciences which come
under the general department of Natural History,
while they answer important practical purposes,
are admirably adapted to enlarge our views of the
wisdom, and power, and goodness of the Creator.
If your circumstances should permit, and your
taste should incline you, to bestow some attention
upon several of the branches of natural science, I
should not object to it; but if you should confine
yourself to one or two, Mechanical Philosophy
and Chemistry would probably best reward your
efforts.

As to modern languages, I am not particularly
desirous that you should aim at very high attain-
ments. Of the French I should be glad to have
you acquire so much knowledge that you can

A DAUGHTER. 59

read it with fluency and correctness ; but as for
Spanish, Italian, and other modern languages,
there is so little in them which it were worth your
while to read, that you have my full consent for
never opening a grammar of either. The dead
languages I do not regard as constituting an
important part of female education ; and yet if
your taste should incline you to it, I confess I
should be gratified to see you able to converse
with the mighty dead of Grecian and Koman fame,
and still more to see you able to read the scrip-
tures in the languages in which they were dictated
by the Holy Ghost. This last I know is a rare
acquisition for a young lady, but it is one which,
in my eye at least, always serves to elevate her
character.

I cannot conclude this list of studies without
recommending to you a careful attention to the
evidences of Christianity; and I rejoice to find,
that in some of our female seminaries, this is
already recognized as a distinct branch of educa-
tion. Every part of this subject is full of interest ;
but no part of it perhaps grows upon the mind so
much on reflection, as that which relates immedi-
ately to the Word itself — what is popularly termed
the internal evidence. Nearly identified with the
study of this, is the study of the doctrines of the
gospel ; and I earnestly hope the time is not far

60

LETTERS TO

distant when a knowledge of some outline of
scripture truth, or what perhaps is still better, the
Bible itself, will be considered essential to a
complete female education.

You perceive I have said nothing of merely
ornamental branches. The reason is, not that I
regard them as absolutely unimportant, but only
comparatively so. I am willing, if your circum-
stances admit, that you should attend to Drawing,
Painting, or Music, or all of them, provided only
you have a natural taste for them, and do not
suffer them to interfere with your improvement in
more important branches. I say, if you have a
taste for them ; for nothing seems to me more
ridiculous than for a girl utterly destitute of taste,
to spend months in trying to learn the use of the
pencil, while neither she nor her friends are to reap
any other reward of her labors, than is found in the
awkward result of having a few pictures to amuse,
or as the case may be, to frighten, her younger
sisters. If you have a talent for music, I am more
than willing that you should cultivate it ; for it
will not only supply you with innocent, and I may
say, elegant amusement, but it may often banish
melancholy from your mind, and refresh and
invigorate the spirits of your friends. But I
repeat, let every accomplishment of this kind be
suffered to hold only its proper place. If you

A DAUGHTER. 61

find that your attention to these or any kindred
branches is at any time making you indifferent to
the more solid parts of your education, especially
if you find that it serves to cherish in you a spirit
of vanity, and to diminish your interest in the
realities of religion, you need no better evidence
that it has become excessive ; and that however
innocent these things may be in themselves, there
is danger that you will pervert them toyourinjurv
or ruin.

I am Your Devoted Father

LETTER V.

EDUCATION. DOMESTIC ECONOMY.

My Dear Child, — However much you may
be distinguished for intellectual cultivation, or for
proficiency in the more refined and ornamental
branches, you can make no claim to a complete
education, unless you are well acquainted with
Domestic Economy. I am aware that this is a
subject which from some cause or other, many
young females regard with strong aversion ; and
there is reason to fear that, in too many instances,
this aversion is heightened by receiving in some
degree the parental sanction ; but you may rely
on it there cannot be a greater mistake on the
subject of female education, than to suppose that
this branch of it may with safety be neglected.
With regard to the extent to which you should
be informed on this subject, I would say in general
that you ought to have so much knowledge of it,
as will enable you to regulate with advantage the
concerns of a family. There are indeed some
of the domestic arts which you can hardly be

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. C3

expected to acquire ; and which, in the ordinary
walks of domestic life, may not be important; but
whatever relates to the immediate superintendence
and direction of household concerns, you cannot
neglect without exposing yourself to inconve-
nience which no future exertions may be able
completely to remedy.

It is important that you should cultivate a taste
for the management of domestic concerns as early
as possible. As no part of your education is more
practical than this, it were unsafe to neglect it
even for a short period ; as the consequence of
such neglect would probably be, that you would
form other habits uncongenial with domestic
employments, and which perhaps might give you
an aversion to them which you would never
overcome. Do not consider it a hardship, there-
fore, to be placed in circumstances which favor
your attention to this subject, and even demand
your active exertions. Every item of this kind
of knowledge which you gain, you will be able,
hereafter, to turn to some practical account,
which will compensate many fold for the labor of
attaining it.

It is not uncommon for young females in the
higher walks of life to satisfy themselves in the
neglect of this branch of education, on the ground
that their lot is cast in circumstances of opulence

64 LETTERS TO

and splendor. If this excuse could ever be sus-
tained, you have no right to expect that your
condition m life will allow you to avail yourself
of it : but the truth is that it cannot be admitted
in any case. For what if Providence should
actually place }tou in circumstances of wealth,
and what the world calls independence ? Would
you not still be as truly accountable to God for all
your possessions, as though you had been limited
to a moderate competence ? Nay, would not your
responsibility be increased just in proportion to
the abundance which had been bestowed upon
you ? This, therefore, instead of being an argu-
ment for the neglect of the domestic part of your
education, is actually a reason why you should
attend to it with the greater care ; for if a pro-
fusion of the bounties of heaven are entrusted to
your management, and you are responsible for the
proper improvement of them all, is it not pre
eminently desirable that you should possess that
knowledge which will enable you to acquit your-
self as a faithful steward ?

But if you leave the idea of accountableness
entirely out of the question, there are still other
reasons of great weight why this part of your
education should not be neglected. Without a
proper attention to it, you can never be qualified
to preside in the concerns of a family. Though

A DAUGHTER. 65

you should be placed in a station which might
enable you to command all the conveniences and
assistance which opulence can furnish, you will
never feel at home in your own house, unless you
have yourself that practical knowledge which will
enable you to keep your house in order. You
cannot realize half the value of your domestic aid,
unless you are capable of exercising a general
superintendence, and giving proper directions ; and
without such ability, you will be liable to constant
impositions from those to whom you will be obli-
ged to confide interests which ought to remain
exclusively in your own hands. Manv a large
estate has been squandered, and many a family
reduced to want, in consequence of a deficiency
in this part of female education.

Let me add, if Providence should ever place you
at the head of a family, and you are obliged from
ignorance of domestic economy, to entrust its con-
cerns to another, you cannot maintain the dignity
which appropriately belongs to such a station.
You will be subject to a thousand painful morti-
fications from discovering that your concerns are
improperly managed, and yet being unable to
suggest the proper remedy ; and though you may
try to flatter yourself that your ignorance on this
subject may pass for evidence of a genteel educa-
tion, it is more than probable that the unsavory
5

66 LETTERS TO

food, which will sometimes chance to be placed
before your guests, will lead them to regret that
you happened to possess so unfortunate an accom-
plishment.

What I have said hitherto on this subject has
been principally upon the supposition that you are
to be placed in circumstances of external ease and
affluence. But I hardly need say that this is by
no means certain. Even if your prospects in this
respect should be fair at the commencement of
domestic life, there are a thousand changes which
may await you, any one of which may cast around
you the gloom and desolation of heart-breaking
poverty. I could tell you of many who have begun
life without a cloud being seen to settle upon their
temporal prospects, and have closed it in all the
degradation and wretchedness which the most ab-
ject want could occasion. I would fondly indulge
the hope that Heaven may avert such a lot as this
from my dear child ; but as it is impossible to tell
what scenes of adversity the changes of life may
bring with them, it is unquestionably the part of
wisdom that you should be prepared for any lot to
which Providence may call you. What then, if
you should be destined in a few years to the ob-
scure and humble walks of poverty ? What, if
from the comfortable competence you now possess,
you should sink to a condition upon which you

A DAUGHTER. 67

have hitherto been scarcely able to look, without
feelings of compassion and tears of sympathy '.
What, if you should see around you a little de-
fenceless family, and all the dreaded evils of
poverty clustering upon them in melancholy pro-
fusion ? And what, if, in the midst of all these
circumstances of external depression, you should
be found incapable of devising a plan or lifting a
hand for the relief or comfort of yourself and
family? In supposing this case, believe me, I am
not dealing in fiction : I have seen an elegant,
accomplished female, brought up in the lap of
luxury, in these very circumstances : and who
knows but that another such case may occur, and
that it may not be the case of my beloved child ?
Sure I am that another argument cannot be neces-
sary to impress you with the importance of the
subject I am endeavoring to urge.

And now if I have gained your con vie; ion to
the importance of this branch of education, let me
repeat the request that you will begin without de-
lay to make it a practical matter. I know indeed
that much depends in this case on maternal atten-
tion and effort ; but I know too that there is in
some young females an aversion to domestic em-
ployments, which a mother's persevering exer-
tions do not overcome; and I also know that little
improvement can. reasonably be expected in any

6S LETTER STO

department of knowledge, in which the mind does
not act not only without constraint, but with
alacrity. And I beg you to bear in mind that the
knowledge of which I am speaking is to be
acquired only in a single way ; and that is by
actual experience. You may study the science
of domestic economy as carefully as you will, and
you may receive lessons from experienced and
skilful managers, and after all you will be little
wiser, till you come down to the actual reality of
participating in the every day concerns of a family.
When you actually put your hand to the work,
you will begin to learn ; but unless you put your
hand to it frequently, and learn to think it no dis-
honor to engage in any thing appertaining to the
economy of a family, you can never expect to be-
come an accomplished housekeeper. In a pre-
ceding letter I have urged upon you the import-
ance of taking a good degree of exercise ; let me
here say that you cannot comply with that direc-
tion to better purpose than by spending a part of
every day in domestic employments. And while
it will secure to you the benefit of relaxation from
your studies, and of the exercise of your bodily
powers, it will be an effectual — the only effectual
means of preparing you to appear with honor and
usefulness in this department, as the head of a
family.

A DAUGHTER. 69

In connexion with this general subject I have a
word to say in respect to the regulation of your
expenses. In all your dealings I would have you
avoid even the appearance of being parsimonious :
let no one ever have just occasion to say, in re-
spect to any pecuniary transaction of yours, that
it has not been perfectly liberal and honorable.
Nevertheless there is an ostentation of liberality
which I would have you carefully avoid ; for it is
really a contemptible quality, and so the world
regard it. There is also in some young females
a spirit of extravagance — a disposition to incur
expenses which their condition in life neither de-
mands nor justifies ; — another quality which de-
serves severe reprobation. I trust I shall never be
subjected to the mortification of seeing exemplified
in you either of these dispositions. Let your ex-
penditures be regulated, not merely by a regard to
your ability, but to your accountableness as a
steward of the divine bounty. Regard economy
as a virtue, and never be unwilling to be seen in
the practice of it. It is a shame to any steward
to waste his Lord's goods. It is honorable to con-
tract your personal expenses as far as you may,
that you may thereby have the more ability to
succor the needy and distressed.

I will close this letter by suggesting a hint or
two on the subject of dress : as it is in relation to

70 LETTERS TO

this, more perhaps than anything else, that most
young females are tempted to indulge in extrava-
gance. I would always have you appear in this
respect neat and decent, and do not care how much
correct taste you display ; but I beg you to avoid
all gaudy and superfluous ornament. It is a good
rule to follow the fashion in dress just so far that
you shall not be marked as singular. But you
may rely on it, that a disposition to take the lead
in fashions, to shine forth in splendid apparel, and
even to profane the house of God by a gaudy
glare of lace and gold, is always taken with dis-
cerning people as proof of a weak head or a proud
heart. In the circle of my acquaintance there is
a family of young ladies who have a fortune
which few females in this country have ever
inherited. They have been educated in a style
of princely liberality; and I may say, with the
voice of all their acquaintances to sustain me,
that they are the ornament of their sex. These
young ladies have their hearts and hands open to
every object of charity within their reach ; but in
their dress there are scarcely any females in the
surrounding population who are equally simple
and unpretending. And who, think you, regards
them the less for this trait in their character ? Be-
lieve me, every one regards them the more. There
is in it a charming simplicity — a right estimate

A DAUGHTER

71

of things, which attracts universal admiration.
I would say to every young female, I would
especially say to you, " Go and do likewise."
Your Devoted Father.

LETTER VI.

GENERAL READING.

My Dear Child, — In the course of your edu-
cation, and after it is completed, you will occa-
sionally find leisure to devote to miscellaneous
reading. As this is one of the principal means
by which you will become acquainted with the
sentiments of others, you will readily perceive
that it cannot but exert, either for good or evil, an
important influence on your character. It is the
design of this letter to furnish you some hints
which may assist you to regulate this employment,
so that it shall be at once the most useful and the
most agreeable.

And the first suggestion which I would offer on
this subject is, that all your reading should be, as
far as possible, with some definite object, other
than merely to occupy your time. If you have
no object in view, you may be sure that you will
accomplish none; and thus your reading will be
at best a mere waste of time, and not improbably,
will be fraught with positive intellectual or moral

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 73

evil. When you take up a book, decide if you
can, from its title, or its table of contents, what
good purpose you can accomplish by reading it ;
what faculties of your mind it will be likely to
improve ; or what moral dispositions to refine oT
elevate ; and having settled this point, if the book
be worthy of your attention, you can hardly fail
to be benefitted by reading it.

Another remark, closely connected with the
preceding, is, that you should never allow your-
self to read without reflection. There is no habit
more easily acquired than that of occupying the
eye merely upon an author, and leaving the mind
to its own wanderings ; and there is scarcely any
habit, which in the end, more completely unstrings
the intellect, and renders it incapable of com-
manding its own powers. The legitimate design
of reading is, not to supersede, but to assist reflec-
tion ; not to put the faculties to sleep, but to
brighten them by active exercise. Different books,
it is acknowledged, require different degrees of
mental exertion ; but you may take it for granted,
that a book which is not worth the labor of some
thought, is not worth the labor of reading. What-
ever book you may have in hand, let your mind
be just as intensely employed as is necessary to
enable you to realize the full advantage of reading
it ; that is, to enable you to comprehend its full

74 LETTERS TO

meaning, and to give it, so far as may be desirable
or practicable, a lodgment in your memory. If
you find your thoughts, at any time, wandering
obstinately from your author, and if no effort will
bring them under your control, so that you can
read to advantage, (and such cases will sometimes
occur from mere physical derangement,) better lay
aside your book than to continue reading in this
attitude of mental vacancy. You will be none
the wiser for what you read, and you may be
forming an intellectual habit which will diminish
your power of acquiring wisdom in more favored
circumstances.

It follows, from the remark just made, that you
should be on your guard against reading too much.
There is such a thing as a diseased intellectual ap-
petite, which craves an excess of food, and is only
satisfied with devouring every thing that comes in
its way. But to indulge such an appetite were
just as preposterous as to think of nourishing the
body by taking a quantity of food, which should
altogether exceed the digestive powers of the sys-
tem. If you would read to advantage, you must
incorporate what you read with your own thoughts,
and gather from it materials for future reflection.
But this you can never do, if your whole time is
occupied in reading, or if you take up one volume
after another in such rapid succession that your

A DAUGHTER, 75

mind can retain no distinct impression of the con-
tents of any of them. Some of the minds which
have shone most brilliantly, have been but little
occupied with books, being far more conversant
with their own thoughts than the thoughts of
others. Remember that a few books carefully
read, and thoroughly digested, and used as helps
to intellectual exertion, will be of far more use to
you than scores of volumes which are gone through
with little thought, and the contents of which,
either instantly pass out of the mind, or remain in
it, an indigested mass of materials.

But while you should avoid reading too much,
it is desirable, that of the books which you do
read, you should form a habit of selecting, and
treasuring up those parts which are most import-
ant. You cannot expect to retain the whole of
any book ; and if you should attempt it, you would
probably lose the whole by tasking your memorv
so severely ; but even if it were possible, it would
ordinarily be to no good purpose ; as there is much
in almost every book, which might be in your
mind without at all increasing your stock of useful
knowledge. That you may possess yourself of
the substance of what you read, make it a point to
review your author before you lay him aside, and
form an. analysis, at least in your own mind, of all
that vou havo been reading. It will be well too,

76 LETTERS TO

if you commit to paper a general outline of every
important book you read; or at least, that you
make references on a blank page, to those parts to
which you may afterwards wish to recur. Some
such expedient as this will be of great use in
assisting your recollection; and will help you to
retain stores of knowledge which would otherwise
be inevitably lost from your memory.

You will, moreover, find great advantage in
having the different departments of literature and
science, with which you are conversant, so far
systematized in your mind, that you will be able
to refer every book that you read to some one of
them. In this way, your mind will become an
intellectual storehouse, accommodated to the re-
ception of every kind of useful materials ; and its
various apartments arranged with so much skill
and order, that you will never be at a loss where
to deposit any new article of knowledge, or where
to find any you had previously deposited. On the
other hand, if you read without any regard to order,
as it respects your previous acquisitions, the im-
pressions which are made upon your mind will be
vague and indistinct ; and after a little while the
severest effort will be ineffectual to recall them.

Having thrown out these few hints in respect to
the manner of your reading, suffer me now to add

A DAUGHTER. 77

some brief suggestions in respect to the selection
of books.

And first of all, let me say to you, never allow
yourself, from any consideration, to read books
of immoral tendency. A bad book, like a bad
friend, may exert an influence which an estab-
lished habit of virtue will scarcely be able to
resist ; and where a corrupt association is once
formed in the mind, it is exceedingly difficult to
destroy it ; it remains there, a leprous spot, usu-
ally bidding defiance to every thing but the power
of divine grace. What though a book of this
character may fall into your hands, which is ren-
dered peculiarly attractive by a refined and fasci-
nating style ? You are to bear in mind, that these
literary embellishments can no more disarm false
principles of their fatal tendency, than poison can
loose its virulence by being mingled with honey.
Nay, these very attractions give to bad books
much of their dangerous influence ; for while they
recommend them to the attention of the incautious
and inexperienced, they too often serve as a chan-
nel through which the most deadly impressions
are conveyed to the mind. And if the reading of
such books were the only way in which you could
gain the refinement of literature, then I would say,
better remain in ignorance forever than hazard

7S LETTER STO

the wreck of your moral principles,- or admit into
)Tour heart the elements of destruction.

But while you carefully avoid all works, which
are fitted, in any degree, to corrupt the principles
or sully the purity of the mind, I would have you
select those, which, on the whole, are best adapted
to increase your stock of useful knowledge and
practical wisdom. In the wide range of elegant
literature, ihere is a great variety of authors,
which will at once enlighten your understanding,
improve your taste, and exert an influence upon
your heart favorable to virtue and piety. The
entire works of Mrs. More, the pride and glory of
your sex, you cannot read too often or too atten-
tively. Tney contain a system of moral instruc-
tion, particularly adapted to young females, which
has perhaps never had a parallel in any age or
country.

It is an error, against which you should be on
your guard in the selection of your reading, to
confine yourself exclusively to books of a particu-
lar kind. The effect of this would be to corrupt
your taste, to destroy the proportion which exists
among the various powers of your mind, and, as
the case may be, to expose you to serious incon-
venience and mortification. That you may avoid
this evil, endeavor to be conversant with those
authors who have been most conspicuous in the

DAUGHTER.

79

various departments of literature. Such a course
will be likely to give you a correct and dignified
taste, at the same time that it will impart a gene-
ral consistency and vigor to your intellectual cha-
racter.

Though I have no wish that you should be an
enthusiast with regard to poetry, I would still have
you, in some degree, familiar with the best poets
both of ancient and modern date. The immortal
works of Milton, Cowper, and Thompson, may be
read with great advantage to the heart as well as
the understanding. But there are others, usually
associated in the same cluster of poetical genius,
who, however exquisite their poetry, cannot be
safely recommended as guides to youthful virtue.
Much of the modern poetry, I am sorry to say, is
chargeable with the same immoral tendency. By-
ron, with a genius to which few, whether of an-
cient or modern days, can lay claim has clouded
his brilliant and beautiful conceptions with the
dark hue of infidelity and moral death; and so
long as his writings last, they must stand as a
monument of a noble intellect prostituted to the
worst of all purposes — that of corrupting and de-
stroying his fellow men. Moore, with less of ge-
nius than Byron, has written for the most part, for
no better purpose ; and it were far worse than a
waste of time to employ yourself upon his produc-

80 LETTERS TO

tions. Even tne poetry of Sir Walter Scott, though
it has much in it to delight the imagination, is
greatly deficient in moral sentiment, and seems
scarcely fitted for any higher purpose than to fur-
nish a light kind of amusement. James Montgo-
mery belongs to an entirely different class ; or
rather he stands nearly alone ; and I have no hesi-
tation in assigning to him a pre-eminence among
the poets of the present day. With an invention
uncommonly fertile in whatever is chaste and
beautiful, he unites a deep and strong religious
sensibility ; and in reading his poetry, you see not
less of the Christian than of the poet : you feel
that your imagination, and all your powers, are
in communion with an exalted genius, while you
seem to breathe a pure and moral atmosphere, and
to have your soul attracted towards a region of
perfect purity. I might mention also the lamented
Pollok, who lived long enough to show that God
had given him noble powers, and that he was dis-
posed to employ them in his master's service ;
who wrote but little, but in that little has erected
for himself a bright and enduring monument. So
too I might speak of Mrs. Hemans, whose poetry
is the subject of much and deserved praise ; and
of many others, of various degrees of merit, all of
whom are unexceptionable in their moral tendency.
But it is unnecessary that I should enlarge on this

A DAUGHTER. 81

subject, as I have no doubt that, with the hints
already given, I may safely leave it to your own
taste and judgment.

As for dramatic writers, I cannot say that I am
desirous that you should cultivate a taste for them.
The plays of Shakespeare are incomparably the
finest specimen of dramatic genius which the
English language preserves ; and it cannot be
denied that they exhibit human life and manners
with great power, and beauty, and effect ; but it is
equally unquestionable that there is much in them
to call into exercise the worst passions of human
nature, to tarnish the purity of the mind, and to
beget a kind of profane familiarity with things of
high and sacred import. I should expect, there-
fore, that the loss you would sustain from reading
them, in point of moral feeling, would be greater
than any advantage you would gain in respect to
intellectual improvement. And on no account
could I consent to your reading them, unless it
were under the direction of some judicious friend,
who would select for you the parts which are
most unexceptionable. Addison, Young, and a
few others have written plays, which may per-
haps be considered unexceptionable ; but I must,
confess, I should feel no regret, if you should
think it best to dispense with this class of authors
altogether.

82 LETTERSTO

But there is no species of reading to which
young females are usually more inclined, or from
which they are so much in danger, as that of
novels. I will not say that there are no works of
this kind which indicate a tone of correct moral
feeling, and which are of unexceptionable moral
tendency. Nor will I take it upon me to pass
severe judgment upon many persons of great ex-
cellence, who have indulged in this kind of read-
ing, on the ground that it furnishes many import-
ant lessons in respect to the operations of the
human heart. But I must say, after an attentive
consideration of this subject, and withal, after
having once held a somewhat different opinion,
that I do not wish you ever to read a novel. For
admit that the novels of Richardson, and some of
the modern novels of Scott, and a few others,
abound with critical views of human nature, and
contain many specimens of eloquent writing ; and
in their direct moral influence may be regarded as
harmless — I cannot doubt that the time which
you would occupy in reading them might be em-
ployed to better purpose in studying the actual
realities of life, as they are exhibited by the bio-
grapher or the historian : and moreover, there is
danger, if you begin to read works of fiction, with
an intention to read but few, and to confine your-
self to the better class, that your relish for these

A DAUGHTER 83

productions will increase, till you can scarcely
feel at home unless the pages of a novel are
spread out before you ; and what is still more to
be dreaded, that you will read indiscriminately,
the most corrupt as well as the least exceptionable.
You may rest assured that a character, formed
under the influence of novel reading, is miserably
fitted for any of the purposes of practical life.
The imagination being hereby wrought into a
feverish state, gains the ascendency over the
judgment, and a thousand bright visions rise up
before the mind, which experience proves to be
unreal. This species of reading, moreover, inspires
a disgust for the sober and practical realities in
which we have to mingle ; and what is worse than
all, it often closes every avenue through which the
awful truths of religion can be conveyed to the
heart. I say then, as you would avoid forming a
character which combines all the elements of insi-
pidity, corruption, and moral death, beware of
the reading of novels. Many a young female has
been obliged to trace to this cause, the destruction
of her principles, her character, and ultimately her
life : and if she have escaped these greater evils,
she is still unfitted for solid intellectual enjoyment,
and for a life of active usefulness.

I would have you bestow considerable attention
on the periodical publications of the day, though

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you ought here, as much as in any department of
literature, to read with discrimination. Of these
publications you need not to be told that there is
every variety, from the dignified quarterly, that
exercises an almost unlimited sway in the region
of taste and letters, down to the contemptible
catchpenny paper, that lives by circulating slander
and falsehood. It would be well, if your circum-
stances should permit, that you should accustom
yourself regularly to read one of the great foreign
Reviews ; and of those in our own country, which
are purely or chiefly literary, you may advanta-
geously select one or two more. But in reading
these publications, even the best of them, you
ought not tamely to surrender your own judgment
of an author to the dictation of these literary cen-
sors ; but to let their opinion pass for only what it
is worth ; and if it have been formed under the
influence of partiality, or prejudice, to let it pass
for nothing. Of religious periodicals it may be
well for you to select one from each of the most
important classes ; as, for instance, one that is
devoted to theological review and discussion, one
to missionary intelligence, &c, &c. By selecting
your reading of this kind with care, and keeping
yourself within certain limits, you will gain far
more information, and with much less labor, than

• A DAUGHTER. 85

if you were to devour, indiscriminately, every pe-
riodical that should fall in your way.

You will find it a useful employment occasion-
ally to read judicious books of travels. It hap-
pens, unfortunately, that most works of this kind
seem to have been written with too little regard to
truth ; and instead of having the sober results of
actual experience, we have had the wild, and
wonderful, and sometimes ridiculous sallies of the
writer's imagination. There is probably no spe-
cies of writing, in respect to which you ought to
make more abatement from glaring and marvel-
lous statements, than this ; not only because
authors of this kind, from their rapid obser-
vations, are often liable to mistake, but because
certainty has such an advantage over conjecture,
that they are under a strong temptation not only
to speak, but to speak positively, where it would
be honest for them to confess that they know
nothing. We are perfectly aware how much the
character of our own country has been traduced,
and held up to ridicule, by travellers from abroad ;
and it is fair to conclude that much that professes
to be the record of travels in other countries, is
equally at war with truth and justice. Some of
the best books of foreign travels have been written
by missionaries, from this country and England ;
and I doubt not that it is from this source that we

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are hereafter to gain our most accurate knowledge
of the population, the manners, and general statis-
tics, of other countries .

Biography is a species of reading which is fitted
to amuse, while it instructs you. It brings out
before you the human character, and often in cir-
cumstances of the deepest interest ; and holds up
a mirror in which you may see the operations of
your own heart. I regret to say that well executed
and attractive works of this kind, are far less com-
mon in the English language than could be desired.
Among the most interesting within my knowledge
are the Biographies of Philip and Matthew Henry,
the latter of which was written, and the former
revised, by my excellent and highly valued friend,
Doctor Williams of Shrewsbury. Within a few
years many highly interesting works have been
published, commemorating the character and ser-
vices of distinguished missionaries, and those who
have been especially active in the missionary
cause ; such as Martin, Richmond, Burder, Row-
land Hill, &c, &c. I would advise you, especially,
to become familiar with the characters who have
been most conspicuous in our own country, and
who have been instrumental of transmitting to us
our goodly inheritance. You may also study with
great advantage the lives of many distinguished
females of modern times, such as Mrs. Graham,

A DAUGHTER. 87

Mrs. Huntington, Mrs. Newell, and others who
have gone to heaven, leaving a bright track of
glory behind them. Whenever you engage in
this kind of reading, endeavor to turn it to some
account in the improvement of your heart. What-
ever excellence you discover in the character you
are contemplating, endeavor to make it your own ;
whatever error, fortify yourself against it with
renewed vigilance ; whatever weakness, see whe-
ther it be not the besetting infirmity of your own
nature ; whatever victory over temptation, whatever
serenity amidst sorrow, whatever triumph in death,
let it lift your eye and your heart upward, for that
Almighty grace by which those blessings are
secured. The reading of Biography in this way
I must most cordially recommend, as it cannot fail
to make you wiser and better.

You will anticipate me when I say that I wish
you to be conversant with the best works on Theo-
logy. In many of the old writers of the seven-
teenth century, which are now little read, at least
by females, you will find treasures of thought and
devotion, which would amply reward you for the
labor of examining them. Owen, Baxter, Flavel,
Charnock, Bates, and Howe, though they possess
indeed different degrees of merit, yet are all rich
in evangelical sentiment, and some of them dis-
tinguished by a bold and powerful eloquence.

8S LETTERS TO

The entire works of any of these authors are volu-
minous, and perhaps not easily accessible ; but
some of the most popular and useful treatises of
each of them, and of many others of the same
school, are within your reach, and may be read
without occupying an undue portion of your time.
If I should mention any one as deserving a pre-
ference above the rest, I think it would be Howe.
There is running through his writings a majesty
of conception, and a deep current of devotional
feeling, which I look for in vain, in the same
degree, in almost any other writer.

I wish you to read attentively at least one
system of Theology. Mere miscellaneous reading
on theological subjects, however useful it may be,
can never give you a distinct and connected view
of the great system of revealed truth. There is
no work within my knowledge, so well adapted
to answer this purpose, as the admirable system
of Theology by the late President Dwight. It
may look a little formidable to you at first, but I
am almost sure that if you once engage in reading
it, you will not be impatient to find its close.
While the subjects are arranged with philosophi-
cal accuracy, they are discussed with a degree of
perspicuity, force, and eloquence, for which J
think you will look in vain, in any similar work.
There are other books containing systems of Theo-

A DAUGHTER. 89

logy which you might read with advantage, but
instead of recommending any of them to your
particular attention I would advise you, when
you have gone through with Doctor Dwight once,
to begin, and go through with him again. This
course I would recommend, not from a desire to
disparage other authors, but from a conviction
that to read and digest this as you ought, would
be of more use to you than to read several similar
works superficially ; and withal, that you could
expect to find little in other bodies of divinity, that
would be of much importance, which this does
not contain.

You will also occasionally employ yourself in
reading sermons. As your first object here should
be the improvement of your heart, you should
select those which are distinguished by an earnest
and practical exhibition of divine truth. But
it is perfectly consistent that you should combine,
with the culture of your affections, the improve-
ment of your mind ; and for this purpose you
should choose those which are composed with the
best taste, and with the greatest degree of intellec-
tual vigor. The sermons of Barrow and Jeremy
Taylor, though they partake much of the spirit of
the age in which they were written, are specimens
of a vigorous and powerful eloquence, to which
modern times have hardly furnished a parallel.

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The sermons of Archbishop . Tillotson are fertile
in weighty and impressive sentiment, and on sub-
jects connected with natural religion, are exceeded
by few in the language. Bishop Sherlock's ser-
mons, though in some minor points, not exactly
accordant with my own views of religious truth,
are certainly a monument of an elegant and active
mind, which posterity can never cease to admire.
The sermons of the immortal Edwards, though
wholly destitute of ornament, are in the highest
degree instructive, and contain perhaps, the most
powerful appeals to the heart and conscience,
which are to be found out of the Bible. President
Davies' sermons have justly acquired a high cele-
brity for a dignified, forcible, and solemn exhibition
of divine truth, and for a devotional fervor and
sacred unction, which indicate that they were
dictated by a heart full of faith and of the Holy
Ghost. The sermons of Robert Walker, a modern
Scotch divine, are fine specimens of an evangelical
spirit, and admirably adapted to promote the influ-
ence of practical religion. Jay's sermons are full
of truth, and life, and beauty, and are fitted to be
alike gratifying to a refined taste, and an elevated
piety. The sermons of the late Doctor Lathrop
are written with great simplicity, and discover a
fertility of invention, a grasp of intellect, an
enlightened view of scripture doctrine, and an

A DAUGHTER. 91

elevation of pious feeling-, whbh, to say the least,
are not often found in combination. Doctor
Mason's sermons are distinguished for bold and
elevated thought, for a style of classical elegance,
and for overwhelming appeals to the understand-
ing and the heart. The sermons of Dr. Chalmers
can hardly fail to be read with interest, as the
offspring of an inventive and powerful mind ; and
as containing a lucid exhibition of divine truth ;
though it were much to be desired that the style
in which they are written had been less diffuse
and involved. Robert Hall is, in my opinion, the
first writer of sermons of the age. The irresisti-
ble force of his reasoning, the beauty and grandeur
of his thoughts, and the dignified and graceful
manner in which they are expressed, in connexion
with the truly evangelical spirit which pervades
them, render his sermons as perfect specimens of
this kind of writing, perhaps, as the world may
expect to see. I might extend this list almost inde-
finitely, but I am willing to leave much to your
own judgment ; and those which have been men-
tioned are probably enough to occupy as much
leisure as you will be able to give to this kind of
reading.

Some portion of your religious reading will of
course be of a miscellaneous character. Without
attempting to give you a list of books in this

92 LETTER STO

department, (for I should not know where to begin
or where to end,) I will simply mention two or
three authors whose works appear to me to have a
special claim upon your attention. Wilberforce's
Practical View has probably been one of the most
useful books which the present age has produced.
Its influence in elevating the standard of piety,
especially in the higher circles in Great Britain, it
is impossible adequately to estimate, and happily
its circulation has been extended through almost
every part of Protestant Christendom. In an
interview which I was once privileged to hold
with that venerable man, I remember his adverting
with the highest gratification and yet with the
deepest humility, to the success with which God
had been pleased to crown that effort of his for
the advancement of evangelical truth and piety;
and there was every thing in his remarks and in
his manner of making them, to indicate that he
regarded himself only as an unworthy instrument,
and ascribed to God all the glory. The works of
Doctor Dick of Scotland, in several volumes,
beginning with " the Christian Philosopher," are
exceedingly well worthy not only of being read,
but diligently studied. No other writer within
my knowledge has so happily illustrated the mu-
tual relations of science and religion ; and whoever

A DAUGHTER. 93

can read his admirable works without finding the
powers of his intellect quickened, and his reverence
for the divine character increased, and his views
of his own insignificance and unworthiness deep-
ened, and a spirit of benevolence glowing more
intensely in his bosom, must either be destitute of
an understanding to comprehend what he reads,
or must have a heart that is proof against the most
hallowed, the most impressive exhibitions of divine
truth. The writings of the "Rev. John Angell
James, consisting of several practical treatises on
different subjects, as they have acquired a great
and deserved popularity in this country, will not,
I trust, escape your attention. They are charac-
terized by an uncommonly attractive style and
copiousness and originality of thought, and exhibii
the truths and duties of Christianity with great
unction and loveliness. I perceive that a new
work from this interesting writer is just announced,
designed particularly to aid the inquiring sinner;
and I have no doubt that it will prove a most use-
ful auxiliary to the cause of revivals.

I cannot conclude this letter without urging you
to a diligent and daily perusal of the Holy Scrip-
tures. Remember that this is the great fountain
of wisdom ; that it contains an infallible record of
the dispensations of God towards our world ; that

94 LETTERS TO

it faithfully exhibits the character of man, and
opens up a way by which he may attain to a
glorious destination. Recollect, too, that there is
nothing which approaches the Bible, as a mere
human composition, in point of interest ; no other
historical record of equal antiquity ; no other spe-
cimens with which those of the scriptures can be
compared, of beautiful simplicity or overpowering
grandeur. You may find various important helps
to the study of the scriptures ; but there is none
within my knowledge which I deem so important
as the Introduction to the study of the Scriptures,
by the Rev. Thomas Hartwell Home ; a work
which for extent of well digested Biblical learning
has scarcely a parallel in the productions of any
age. I say again, then, read the Bible attentively,
every day of your life. Read it in its connexion,
observing carefully how one part of it is illustrated
and confirmed by another. Read it with a deep
and practical impression that it contains the words
of eternal life; — a message, which he that be-
lieveth shall be saved, and he that believeth not
shall be damned. In this way your mind will
become early imbued with heavenly wisdom,
your affections will become purified and elevated,
and your whole character gradually conformed
to that standard of perfection which the Bible
reveals.

A DAUGHTER. 95

With the earnest hope that you may obey these
directions, and thus become wise and good while
vou are young,

I remain Your ever Affectionate Father.

LETTER VII.

INDEPENDENCE OF MIND.

My Dear Child, — There is scarcely any
quality which is more frequently the theme of
eulogy among all classes, than that which is to
constitute the subject of this letter. The good
and the bad, alike, will extol something, which
each calls independence of mind ; and all will
agree that the quality which is indicated by this
language, is an essential element in a truly noble
character. But it is worthy of remark that the
expression has a variety of meaning with different
individuals ; that with some it indicates what is
truly great and noble, with others, what is un-
lovely, and even odious : it becomes therefore, a
matter of importance that you should distinguish
the precious from the vile ; that you should take
care to cultivate genuine independence of charac-
ter, and not deceive yourself with something
which has been unjustly complimented with the
name.

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 97

Let me apprise you, then, in the first place, that
true independence is something entirely different
from rashness. There are those who pride them-
selves on forming a hasty opinion, and adopting a
course of conduct, even in relation to subjects of
great moment, without stopping to look at the
indications of Providence, to reflect at all on pro-
bable consequences. It matters little with them
though they act entirely in the dark, provided
only their movements are so rapid and boisterous
as to excite attention. Persons of this character,
you will always find, run themselves into a thou-
sand needless difficulties. Even if they chance to
go right, every judicious person will consider it a
matter of mere accident, and to say the least, will
give them far less credit for virtuous conduct, than
if they had adopted the same course with fore-
thought and deliberation.

True independence of the mind is equally un-
like obstinacy — another quality with which it is
often confounded. When a person has once
formed an opinion, and expressed it, especially
with a great degree of confidence, and perhaps
withal with some publicity, he is under strong
temptation, from the pride of consistency, to retain
that opinion, even in spite of light which ought to
induce him to abandon it. The secret feeling of
his heart is, that it would be a reflection either
7

98 LETTERS TO

upon his discernment or his firmness, to avow a
change in his convictions ; and hence he endea-
vors to shut his eyes upon the evidence which
might be likely to work such a change ; or if the
light is irresistible, and the change is forced upon
him, he will refuse to acknowledge it, and will
even act in a manner which he knows to be con-
trary to his own interest, rather than confess that
he has been in a mistake. This is nothing short
of the most pitiable obstinacy ; and whoever exhi-
bits it, exposes himself to deserved contempt.
Kemember that it is an honor to confess an error
as soon as you discover it, and as publicly as you
may have avowed it. All will think the better of
you for doing so ; or if there be any exceptions,
they are those whose praise is censure, and whose
censure praise.

Equally remote is the quality which I would
recommend from a contempt of the opinion of
others. It is not uncommon to find persons, who
seem to regard their own opinion as infallible, and
who treat the opinion of others with proportionate
disrespect. No matter though the subject be one,
in respect to which they may be utterly ignorant,
they will deliver their opinion with dictatorial
confidence, and will treat every objection, and
every query, as if it were, of course, the offspring
of folly or impertinence. True independence, so

A DAUGHTER. 99

far from giving its sanction to this spirit, disdains
not to ask advice of the wise, and always treats
their opinions with respect, though it does not
yield to them an implicit consent. You need not
fear that you will forfeit your character for deci-
sion, by asking judicious friends to counsel you
on any important subject on which you may be
called to act ; indeed, a neglect to do so, would
justly expose you to the charge of vanity and pre-
sumption. On the subject of asking advice, how-
ever, let me give you two brief directions. One
is that you should consult only those whose ad-
vice is worthy of your attention ; the other is, that
you should never consult any one, after your
decision is formed. It is nothing better than an
insult to a friend, to go through the formality of
asking his advice, and subjecting him to the
trouble of giving it, when your opinion is deci-
sively made up, and you only wish him to sanc-
tion it. You cannot adopt this course without
some danger ; for if the individual whom you
consult happens to discover the secret, he must be
a good-natured person indeed, not to be vexed at
it ; if he happens to advise you contrary to your
pre-determination, then you subject yourself to
the unpleasant necessity of acting contrary to his
opinion, after you had formally sought it. It is
wise to seek counsel of proper persons ; but it

100 LETTERS TO

should always be to assist one to form an opinion,
not merely to strengthen it after it is formed.

The independence which I wish )'ou to culti-
vate, is that quality which leads us to form all our
opinions deliberately, and from the best light
which we can gain, and then to adhere to them
firmly and practically, until there shall be suffi-
cient evidence to reverse our convictions,

This quality discovers itself in the very forma-
tion of opinions or principles. It keeps the mind
steady, amidst the conflicting views which may
be presented before it. It causes it to look atten-
tively at the evidence on every side, and to resist
the undue influence of circumstances, and to form
its conclusions after intelligent and impartial in-
quiry. Not that a person with this principle in
operation will never be embarrassed with difficul-
ties in respect to the path of duty ; these difficul-
ties may accumulate to such a degree, as to keep
the mind for a long time in suspense ; but let
them be as formidable as they may, the mind will
soberly and calmly consider them all, and will
ultimately dispose of them to its own satisfaction.
If you have genuine independence, then, it will
keep you from inconsiderate and hasty judgments.
It will save you from being enslaved to the
opinions of others, and from adopting notions
merely because they are current in the community

A DAUGHTER. 101

around you. In short, it will subject you to the
labor of forming your own judgments; but when
they are once formed, it will ensure to you the
satisfaction of thinking that they are your own.

But this trait of character discovers itself, not
only in the process by which we arrive at our
convictions of what is true and right, but also in
an intelligent adherence to those convictions after
they are attained. It usually happens that those
opinions which are formed most inconsiderately,
are relinquished most easily ; whereas, they who
have come to their conclusions by a process of
deliberate and independent thought, rarely have
occasion to change their views, and never, but
upon the most patient and mature reflection. In
other words, the mind that thinks for itself in the
beginning, will almost of course continue to think
for itself during the whole of its subsequent course.
If difficulties arise in connexion with any opinion
which were not contemplated when that opinion
was originally formed, they will, of course, be
carefully weighed, and due importance will be
given to them ; but the mind will not be at the
mercy of every caviller ; unless there be new and
decisive evidence of an opposite kind, presented
to it, in which case it would be obstinacy not to
yield, it marches on, in the strength and majesty
of its own original convictions.

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I have spoken of an independent mind as it
discovers itself in forming and holding fast its own
opinions. Let me add, that it is not less conspicu-
ous in reducing principles to practice ; in other
words, in steadily persevering in what we believe
to be duty. It requires far less strength of pur-
pose to avow good principles, even in times of
trial, than practically to exhibit those principles in
an unyielding course of action. But as princi-
ples are nothing without practice, so it is the
noblest office of genuine independence, to carry
the mind forward in a course of action correspond-
ing with its own convictions ; to keep the hands
nerved for effort when there may be a thousand
pleas for relaxing exertion ; and to give to this
activity that direction only, which conscience ap-
proves, when the strongest temptations offer them"
selves to an opposite course. You may dream of
your own independence as much as you please,
but unless it be of this practical kind which influ-
ences conduct as well as opinions, and which is
carried out into all the departments of human
duty, you have much reason to believe that
neither you nor the world will be the better for
your having possessed it.

The advantages of an independent mind will
readily occur to you upon a moment's reflection.
One of them is, that it furnishes the best security

A DAUGHTER. 103

3tou can have, independently of a principle of
Christian holiness, against false principles and cor-
rupt practice. It is especially in consequence of
the want of this quality, that so many young per-
sons become victims to the most practical and fatal
errors. They are placed in circumstances in
which it is fashionable to think lightly of religion,
or fashionable to disbelieve its truths ; and though
at first, conscience may remonstrate against their
throwing themselves into the current, yet they
have not strength of purpose to resist it ; and
principles which were at first adopted tremb-
lingly, and with severe compunction, are soon
rendered more tolerable by habit ; and at no dis-
tant period they become the governing principles
of the life. A proper share of independence would
keep you from adopting any opinions, without
due consideration ; and if error in any of its forms
should be proposed to you, and you should stop to
canvass it, and should determine that you would
not receive it but upon deliberate and intelligent
conviction, there is good reason to believe that
you would not receive it at all ; for there is no
fundamental error in religion or morals which is
not seen to be such by any one who examines it
with due attention and impartiality.

It is another advantage of genuine indepen-
dence, and ought to be with you a powerful

104 LETTERS TO

motive for cultivating it, that it is fitted to give
you a proper degree of self-respect. If you see an
individual who betrays great indecision of cha-
racter, and is a slave to the opinion of every body,
having no opinion of his own, you cannot regard
that individual other than with a species of pity,
which borders well nigh upon contempt. And
the same must be true in respect to yourself — if
you are conscious that you have no stability of
purpose, and that your opinions of characters and
things are not your own, but are taken upon trust,
and that you do not think your own thoughts even
upon the most common subjects, you may try to
respect yourself, but you cannot ; and moreover,
you will be compelled to feel the mortifying con-
viction that others do not respect you. What-
ever you or others may wish in regard to it, it is
not in human nature that it should be otherwise.
As you desire, therefore, to live in the favorable
regards of others,* or even of yourself, cultivate
this trait which I am recommending.

And I may add, that this quality is not less
essential to your usefulness. The fact that you
had lost self-respect, would destroy, in a great
degree, your power of exertion ; or, what is the
same thing, would diminish the motives to it ; and
the fact that you had lost the respect of others,
would not only operate in the same manner, but

A DAUGHTER. 105

would tend to a similar result, by diminishing
your opportunities of usefulness. And, moreover,
let your efforts be what they might, little real good
could be expected from them, so long as they were
not subject to the direction of an independent
mind; for if you should labor for a good object
one day, there could be no security that you
would not abandon it for an evil one the next ; or
if you should seem to be laboring successfully, for
a while, it is quite probable that you might soon
defeat your purpose by some eccentric and ill
advised movement. Under how much greater
advantages will your efforts be made, if you culti-
vate a. suitable spirit of independence ! The fact
that you are conscious of doing right will render
your exertions easy and unembarrassed. The fact
that you have the respect and confidence of those
around you, will multiply your means of doing
good. And the fact that you are acting with
reflection and firmness, will impart an energy and
efficiency to your whole deportment. As you
would be spared the reproach of living to little or
no purpose, let me say again, cultivate a truly
independent mind.

As the most effectual means of making the
attainment to which I have been urging you, let
me counsel you to cherish a deep sense of the
constant presence of God, and of your account-

106 LETTERS TO

ableness to him for every part of your conduct.
An habitual impression of this kind will make you
comparatively indifferent, both to the censures and
applauses of mortals, and will lead you to regard
every other question as unimportant, in compari-
son with the simple question of duty. And the
consequence of this cannot fail to be, that you
will judge carefully and honestly of what is right,
and will act with unyielding decision. No matter
what temptations may spread themselves before
3^011, to divert you from the path of duty, the
reflection, " thou, God, seest me," brought home
to your understanding and conscience, will ensure
you the victory over them. This is something
distinct from natural inflexibility of character : it
is independence of mind, based on religious prin-
ciple ; and it is this especially which I urge you
to cultivate . That I may be permitted to see your
character forming under the influence of this ele-
vated principle, is the earnest wish of

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER VIII.

FORMING THE MANNERS.

My Dear Child, — Next in importance to the
culture of your heart and understanding, is the
formation of your manners. You shall have the
grounds on which I form this opinion.

There are multitudes who will have no other
criterion than is hereby furnished, by which to
judge of your character. In the varied inter-
course of society, you meet many persons, perhaps
only for a single time in the course of your life.
They almost of course form some opinion of you ;
and that opinion is built upon what they witness
of your general appearance. With good manners
you may leave an impression upon a stranger
from a casual meeting with him, which may
cause him to hold you in grateful remembrance
through life. With manners of an opposite cha-
racter, you would either be passed unnoticed, or
perhaps remembered only as a glaring specimen
of affectation or rudeness.

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It deserves also to be borne in mind, that in
nearly every case the first impressions of the cha-
racter are gathered from the manners ; and every
one knows that first impressions are not easily
eradicated. Instances are not uncommon in which
an individual, on the first introduction to another,
has been struck with some apparent defect of dis-
position, as indicated by the manners ; and though
he may have been subsequently convinced that
the impression was a mistaken one, has found it
next to impossible to forget it in the estimate he
forms of the character. If your manners are as
they should be, it will give you this great advan-
tage in respect to every acquaintance you form —
that the individual, from the beginning, will be
prepossessed in your favor. If otherwise, the best
you can hope is, that in finding your way ulti-
mately into the favorable regards of other people,
you will have to encounter a mass of prejudice.

But leaving first impressions out of view, there
is something in the very constitution of human
nature which inclines us to form a judgment of
character from manners. It is always taken for
granted, unless there is decisive evidence to the
contrary, that the manners are the genuine expres-
sion of the feelings ; and even where such evidence
exists, that is, where we have every reason to
believe that the external appearance does injustice

A DAUGHTER

109

to the moral dispositions, or, on the other hand,
where the heart is too favorably represented by
the manners, there is still a delusion practised
upon the mind by what passes under the eye,
which it is not easy to resist. Yon may take two
individuals of precisely the same degree of intel-
lectual and moral worth, and let the manners of
the one be bland and attractive, and those of the
other distant or awkward, and yon will find that
the former will pass through life with far more
ease and comfort than the latter ; for, though good
manners will never effectually conceal a bad heart,
and are in no case, any atonement for it, yet,
taken in connexion with amiable and virtuous
dispositions, they naturally and necessarily gain
upon the respect and good will of mankind.

You will instantly perceive, if the preceding
remarks are correct, that it is not only your
interest to cultivate good manners, as you hereby
recommend yourself to the favorable regards of
others, but also your duty, as it increases, in no
small degree, your means of usefulness. It will
give you access to many persons, and give you an
influence over them, whom you could otherwise
never approach, much less whose feelings and
purposes you could never hope, in any measure,
to control. I have known one instance at least,
and I doubt not that thousands of others have

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occurred, in which an affectionate and winning
manner has been rendered instrumental, by the
Holy Spirit, of breaking up the delusions of
impenitence; and, as I trust, of saving a soul from
death, and hiding a multitude of sins. In the
very case to which I refer, I have little doubt that
an air of indifference or severity would have
closed up the avenues to the heart, and not im-
probably barred it, in all future time, against the
light and power of conviction.

There is yet another reason why this subject is
deserving of your attention. It is, that as the man-
ners derive their complexion in a great degree from
the feelings, so the feelings are in turn innuencd
by the manners. Suppose from your partiality to
some friend, you should undertake to adopt some
weak peculiarity in her deportment, it is more
than probable, if the foolish experiment should
succeed, that you would find yourself, at no distant
period, with a set of feelings strongly assimilated
to those of the individual whom you had sought
to copy. Cultivate good manners, then, as one
means of improving your dispositions, and impart-
ing real excellence to your character.

That you may attain the object which I am
recommending, let me advise you to lay the foun-
dation aright, by cultivating good and amiable
feelings. Without these, though you should attain

A DAUGHTER. ill

what may pass with the world for good manners,
they will only serve to convict you of hypocrisy ;
for, however it may be with others, you must
yourself know that they do not indicate your real
character. Endeavor then to banish from your
heart all evil dispositions, and to cherish every
temper that is amiable and praiseworthy. Resist
with unyielding firmness the operations of pride,
envy, jealousy, and every other bad passion.
There are indeed infinitely higher motives which
urge you to this course than are derived from its
influence in forming }'our manners ; though it is
with reference to this exclusively that I direct
your attention to it now. Nothing is so effectual
a security for good manners, at least nothing con-
stitutes so good a foundation for them, as the
spirit of Christianity. Let that reign in the heart,
purifying, softening, elevating its various affec-
tions and propensities, and there you may look
with confidence for an exhibition of genuine
politeness.

In connexion with the cultivation of benevolent
feelings, it is necessary that you should acquire
that habit of self-possession which will enable you
at all times to act out your feelings without embar-
rassment. Where the manners are seen to indicate
amiable moral qualities, and especially the gentle
and benignant spirit of the gospel, this will go far

1 12 LETTERS TO

to atone for any lesser imperfections by which they
may be marked. Nevertheless, it is desirable that
you should appear not only amiable but uncon-
strained ; that you should feel at ease yourself,
and be able to put others at ease around you.
You will be placed, almost of course, in a variety
of situations : it is important that you should have
that habitual self-command that will enable you
readily to accommodate yourself to the peculiarities
of each ; and at least to conceal from those around
you, the secret that you are not perfectly at home.
I do not say that this is essential to your passing
in good society, but it certainly is essential to the
perfection of good manners.

It is important also that you should form a pro-
per estimate of your own relative standing in so-
ciety ; and of what belongs to the various relations
you sustain to those around you. If you imagine
yourself of more consequence than you really are,
it follows, almost of course, that you will betray
that opinion in an air of self-respect, which bor-
ders upon arrogance. If you form too low an
opinion of yourself, you will be likely to make it
manifest in a cringing manner, which cannot fail
to leave an impression of your inferiority. If you
form a true relative estimate of yourself, it will be
a security against the extremes both of arrogance
and of servility ; it will render you dignified with-

A. DAUGHTER. 1 13

out being haughty ; condescending without sacri-
ficing a proper self-respect, and will make you
acceptable alike in the higher and lower walks of
life.

I must not omit to mention that it is of great
importance to the formation of good manners, that
you should be accustomed to mingle in good so-
ciety. I do not mean that you should select all
your associates from the more elevated walks of
life ; for this would be likely to unfit you for
mingling with ease and advantage among the
lower classes ; but I would have you so much in
cultivated society that you shall feel perfectly at
home, and that your manners shall appear to have
been formed upon a model of elegance and refine-
ment. It is a rare instance indeed, that a young
female, who is habitually accustomed to society
of a rude or grovelling character, ever becomes
graceful or dignified in her own manners ; and on
the other hand, where her intimate associates are
persons of intelligence and refinement, it is almost
a matter of course, that she becomes conformed, in
a good degree, to the models with which she is
conversant.

But while you ought highly to estimate the

privilege of good society as a means of forming

your manners, you cannot too cautiously guard

against servile imitation. You may have a friend,

8

114 LETTERS TO

whose manners seem to you to combine every
quality that is necessary to render them a perfect
model ; who unites elegant simplicity with gene-
rous frankness, and dignified address with winning
condescension ; who, in short, is every .thing, in
this respect, that you could wish to be yourself ;
— but after all, it would be unwise in you to be-
come a servile copyist even of such manners.
For you are to remember that a certain cast of
manners suits a certain cast of character; and
unless your character were precisely that of the
individual whom you should imitate, you would,
in attempting to assume her address, deservedly
expose yourself to the charge of affectation. You
will therefore do yourself much better service by
looking at good models in a general manner, and
by endeavoring to become imbued with their
spirit, than by making any direct efforts to become
exactly conformed to them. Indeed it may be
doubted whether you will not reap every possible
advantage by simply mingling in their society,
without even thinking of them as models.

Let me caution you here, more particularly, to
be on your guard against affectation. This is
very easily acquired, and is so common a fault,
that the absence of it is always remarked as a
great excellence. I have known females of many
amiable qualities, and considerable intelligence,

A DAUGHTER. 115

who have been absolutely spoiled for society by
attempting to assume in their manners what did
not belong to them. Wherever any thing of this
kind exists, it requires but little sagacity to detect
it ; and even those who are not exactly sensible
where the evil lies, are still aware that there is
something which needs to be corrected. It hap-
pens, however, too frequently, that what is quite
palpable to every body else, escapes the observa-
tion of the individual who is the subject of it ; and
I have known glaring cases, in which the kindest
intimation of the fact, from a friend, has been met
with expressions of resentment. I beg that you
will not only have your ears open to any admo-
nition you may ever receive on this subject, but
your eyes open, to inspect narrowly your own
conduct, that you may detect the fault, if it really
exists. It is always regarded, and justly regarded,
as an indication of consummate foil)- ; and unless
it happens to be associated with an unusual
cluster of real excellencies, it brings upon the in-
dividual little less than absolute contempt. Let
your manners be as much improved as they may,
but regard it as an essential matter that they
should be your own.

Beware also of an ostentatious manner. By
this I mean that kind of manner which savors too
much of display ; which indicates a disposition to

116 LETTERS TO

make yourself too conspicuous ; and which, in
short, is the acting out of a spirit of self-confidence
and self-conceit. This appears badly enough when
discovered in a man ; but in a female, and espe-
cially in a young female, it is absolutely intolera-
ble. Not that I wish to see you awkwardly bash-
ful, or liable to embarrassment from every slight
change of circumstances ; but between this and
the ostentatious manner which I am condemning,
there is a happy medium consisting of a due mix-
ture of confidence and modesty, which will be
equally pleasant to yourself and those with whom
you associate. But if you must err on either ex-
treme, I had rather it would be on that of diffi-
dence than of ostentation. I had rather you
should excite, by your bashfulness, a feeling of
compassion, than by your excessive confidence a
feeling of disgust.

But while you are carefully to avoid ostenta-
tion, ypu are to guard with no less caution against
a studied reserve. We sometimes meet with per-
sons whose manners leave upon our minds the.
painful impression that they are afraid to trust us ;
and that they regard both our actions and words
with suspicion. Wherever this trait appears, it is
almost certain to excite anger or disgust. Most
persons will bear any thing with more patience
than to be told, either directly or indirectly, that

A DAUGHTER. 1 17

they are unworthy of confidence. A significant
smile, or nod, or look, with a third person, which
is intended not to be understood by the individual
with whom you are conversing, is a gross violation
of propriety, and has often cost a deeply wounded
sensibility, and sometimes a valued friendship.
While you studiously avoid every thing of this
kind, let your manners be characterized by a noble
frankness, which, in whatever circumstances you
are placed, shall leave no doubt of your sincerity.
I will only add, that you should avoid every
approach to a haughty and overbearing manner.
I would fain indulge the hope that your feelings
will be an effectual security against this most
offensive characteristic ; but be that as it may, I
assure you that you can never exhibit it, but at
an expense of reputation which you can ill afford
to incur. It is an exhibition of pride, which is
one of the most hateful of all dispositions ; and of
pride in one of its most odious forms. If you
should be so unhappy as to furnish an example
of it, whatever variety of feeling it might excite
among your superiors and equals, and inferiors,
you may rely on it they would all agree to
despise you. I entreat you, therefore, as you va-
lue your character or usefulness, that you will
always be courteous and condescending. It is the
mark of a truly noble disposition to be able to

118 LETTERS TO

treat the most menial and dependent with kind-
ness and good will.

If I should point you to the finest model of
female manners which it has ever been my privi-
lege to observe, and one which will compare with
the most perfect models of this or any other age,
I should repeat a venerated name which I have
already had occasion to mention in another con-
nexion— that of Mrs. Hannah More. It was my
privilege, a few years ago, while on a tour through
England, for health, to \i\ ke a visit at the resi-
dence of this distinguished female ; a visit which
I have ever since regarded as among the happiest
incidents of my life. At that time she numbered
more than fourscore years ; but the vigor of her
intellect was scarcely at all impaired ; and from
what she was, I could easily conceive what she
had been when her sun was at its meridian. In
her person she was rather small, but was a speci-
men of admirable symmetry. In her manners she
united the dignity and refinement of the court,
with the most exquisite urbanity and gentleness
which the female character in its loveliest forms
ever exhibited. She impressed me continually
with a sense of the high intellectual and moral
qualities by which she was distinguished, but still
left me as unconstrained as if I had been convers-
ing with my beloved child. There was an air of

A DAUGHTER. 119

graceful and unaffected ease, an instinctive regard
to the most delicate proprieties of social inter-
course, a readiness to communicate, and yet a
desire to listen, the dignity of conscious merit
united with the humility of the devoted Christian ;
in short, there was such an assemblage of intel-
lectual and moral excellences beaming forth in
every expression, and look, and attitude, that I
could scarcely conceive of a more perfect exhibi-
tion of human character. I rejoice that it is your
privilege to know Mrs. More through her works j
and I can form no better wish for you than that
you may imbibe her spirit, and, according to your
humble measure, walk in her footsteps.

I am, with earnest prayers for your happiness,
Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER IX.

CONVERSATION.

My Dear Child, — In the preceding letter I
ha7e given you some general directions in respect
to the formation of your manners. The subject
on which I am now to address you is closely con-
nected with that ; but yet, if I mistake not, is suf-
ficiently distinct to justify a consideration of it m
a separate letter.

I am well aware that the gift of conversation is
originally possessed in very unequal measures ;
and that while some have a native aptitude for
social intercourse, others seem to be constitution-
ally deficient in ease and fluency. But notwith-
standing this original diversity, there is perhaps
no talent that is more susceptible of improvement
than the talent for conversation ; and though you
should possess it in ever so moderate a degree,
you may still, by a suitable degree of attention,
render yourself, in this respect, decent and re-
spectable.

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 121

The first requisite for conversing well is a
well stored and cultivated mind. Without this, I
acknowledge that you may talk fluently, and talk
abundantly, and if you please, talk humorously;
but you can never be qualified to hold your part
to advantage in intelligent social intercourse. If
you move in the walks of cultivated society, you
will find that a great variety of topics will come
up, beyond the mere common places of the day ;
and unless you have become considerably con-
versant with the various departments of know-
ledge, you will be subjected to the mortification
of betraying your ignorance either by saying
nothing, or by saying that which is not to the pur-
pose. There is no subject of importance, the
slightest knowledge of which may not be of
advantage to you in conversation j for even though
it should be too limited to enable you to impart
any thing to those with whom you converse, it
may be of great use in assisting you to prosecute
your inquiries with intelligence, and thus to in-
crease your own stock of information. I would
say then, be studious to gain knowledge on every
important subject, and do not regard even the
fragments of information as too unimportant to be
treasured up and retained.

Endeavor, as far as possible, to make your con-
versation a source of improvement. The gift of

122 LETTERS TO

speech, like every other endowment, was bestowed
for an important purpose ; and that purpose can
never be answered, unless it is made the vehicle
for communicating, or the means of obtaining,
useful knowledge or good impressions. See then
that you use this invaluable gift as not abusing it.
Wherever it is in your power to command the con-
versation, make it a primary object to give it such
a turn that it shall subserve the intellectual and
moral advantage of those who are engaged in it.
It may be well for you, with reference to your own
improvement, to endeavor to introduce such topics
as may best suit the taste or talents of those with
whom you converse ; topics upon which they will
be most at home, and will be most likely to throw
out thoughts that may be useful to you. It has
often happened that an individual, from one con-
versation with an intelligent friend, has gained
more light on a particular subject, than would
have been gained by weeks or even months, of
reading or reflection. And let me say, there are
scarcely any circumstances in which you can be
placed, in which you may not render the conversa-
tion a source of some advantage, either to yourself
or others. If you are thrown among the illiterate and
vulgar, you may, in a single half hour, do some-
thing to enlighten them ; you may even be instru-
mental in giving a new direction to their thoughts,

A DAUGHTER. 123

and ultimately of forming their character in a bet-
ter mould : and notwithstanding their ignorance
on most subjects, there may be some on which
they may be able to instruct you ; and thus, after
all, you may be mutually benefitted by your inter-
course. Not a small part of the sins of almost
every individual are sins of the tongue. If you
keep in view what ought to be the great end of
conversation, it will secure you, in a good degree,
against this whole class of offences.

Let me caution you to beware of talking too
much. If you do not talk to the purpose, the
less you say the better ; but even if you do, and
if withal, you are gifted with the best powers of
conversation, it will be wise for you to guard
against the imputation of excessive loquacity. I
would not, by any means, have you yield to a
prudish reserve ; but I know not whether even
that were a more offensive extreme than to mono-
polize the conversation of a whole circle. You
are to remember that as the gift of speech is com-
mon to all, so there are few who are not inclined
to use it ; and it is a rare case, indeed, that you
will meet an individual who will feel satisfied to
sit down and hear another talk continually, and
have the conversation addressed to himself, with-
out bearing any part in it. But at any rate, you
are never to make yourself very conspicuous in

124 LETTERS TO

conversation, without due regard to circumstances.
If, for instance, you are among persons who are
3'our superiors in age or standing in society, there
must be strong circumstances to justify you in
bearing more than a moderate share in the con-
versation. And if you should actually take the
lead in it, let it appear manifest that it is not
because you are predisposed to do so, but because
it is the wish of others that you should. If you
talk out of proportion to your relative circum-
stances, even though it should be to the amuse-
ment or edification of those who listen, it is more
than probable that it will be set down to the score
of vanity. It were far better to leave a circle
wishing, from what you have actually said, that
you had said more, than out of patience with you
for having talked so much.

It is only an extension of the thought to which
I have just adverted, when I remark further, that
you should beware Gf talking without reflection,
or when you have nothing to say. It is far better
to be silent than to talk in this manner, or in these
circumstances ; for you cannot hope to edify any
one, and you certainly expose yourself. Let the
subject be what it may, accustom yourself always
to reflect before you speak ; in other words, to
have thoughts before you utter them. You can-
not look around in society, without perceiving

A DAUGHTER 125

that incautious speaking is one of the most fruit-
ful sources of mischief. Whether you are dis-
cussing a grave subject, or talking about the most
familiar occurrences of life, let it be a rule from
which you never deviate, to say nothing without
reflection. You may easily form this habit, and
the advantage of it will be incalculable ; or you
may perhaps, with still greater ease, form the
opposite habit, and it will not improbably subject
you to serious evils as long as you live.

Take care that you never subject yourself to
the charge of egotism. This is apt to be a conse-
quence of excessive garrulity ; for there are few
persons who talk a great deal, that do not find it
convenient to magnify their own importance.
And let me say that this is a foible which is more
likely to escape the observation of the person who
is subject to it than almost any other ; and yet
there is perhaps no other which by every one else
is more easily detected ; and, I may add, none
which excites more universal disgust. Guard
your lips, then, whenever you find it in your heart
to make yourself the heroine of your own story.

Never say any thing of yourself which even
indirectly involves commendation, unless under
circumstances of very rare occurrence. If you
watch the operations of your heart, you will pro-
bably be surprised to find how strong is the pro-

126 LETTERS TO

pensity to bring one's self into view, as often and
to as great advantage as possible. Whenever you
can illustrate any subject on which you may be
conversing by a reference to the experience of
any one else, it is better, in all ordinary cases, to
avail yourself of it, than to refer even indirectly
to your own. I have known some persons, who
have manifested a strange kind of egotism, in
speaking freely and unnecessarily of their own
past errors ; when it appeared to me that genuine
humility would have led them to silent communion
with their hearts, and penitence before God. You
may rest assured that it is an exceedingly difficult
thing to allude much either to one's own faults or
excellencies ; difficult, I mean, without leaving an
impression that it is the offspring of a foolish self-
complacency ; in other words, without getting,
and deservedly getting, the character of an egotist.
Avoid even the appearance of pedantry. If you
are conversing with persons of very limited attain-
ments, you will make yourself far more accepta-
ble as well as useful to them, by accommodating
yourself to their capacities, than by compelling
them to listen to what they cannot understand.
I do not say that you may not in some instances
make them stare at your supposed wisdom, and
perhaps they may even quote you as an oracle of
learning ; but it is much more probable that even

A DAUGHTER.

127

they will smile at such an exhibition as a con-
temptible weakness. With the intelligent and
discerning, this effect certainly will be produced ;
and that whether your pretensions to learning are
well founded or not : the simple fact that you aim
to appear learned, that you deal much in allusions
to the classics or the various departments of sci-
ence, with an evident intention to display your
familiarity with them, will be more intolerable
than even absolute ignorance. If you are really
a proficient in science or literature, you need have
no apprehensions that your acquisitions will not
be known without your making a formal procla-
mation of them. If you are only a superficial
student, and make pretensions to learning which
your acquirements do not justify, you will inevi-
tably have to encounter a mortifying defeat ; for
you may set it down that in cultivated society you
will pass for nothing more than you are really
worth. My advice to you is, to acquire as much
useful information as you can, and to use it in
conversation where there is manifestly occasion
for it ; but in no case whatever to volunteer a
learned remark where there is no higher purpose
to be answered than mere personal display. And
never venture on a subject, especially with an air
of confidence and erudition, upon which you are
conscious your attainments are too shallow to

128 LETTERS TO

justify it. It is an experiment always fraught with
danger ; and many instances have I known in
which it has resulted in a humiliating exposure
both of ignorance and weakness. You are at
liberty, indeed, to converse upon subjects on
which you are not well informed : this, as I have
elsewhere intimated, is one important means of
increasing your information : but, in every such
case, do not attempt to get more credit for intelli-
gence than you really deserve : do not assume the
air of a teacher when you are conscious that the
attitude of a learner belongs to you. In this
respect, as well as in every other, honesty is the
safest and best policy.

Let me caution you still further against a
habit of light conversation. I have known young
females with whom this habit had become so con-
firmed, that it seemed as if they could scarcely
speak but to trifle ; and who would even choose to
remain silent, rather than join in conversation in
which their favorite passion could not be in-
dulged. You cannot contract such a habit but at
the expense of forfeiting the esteem of the wise
and good, of sacrificing true dignity of character,
and throwing yourself into a current of tempta-
tion in which there is every probability that you
will be irrecoverably lost. Scarcely any habit
more effectually than this imparts a disrelish for

A DAUGHTER. 129

the society of ail except triflers, and hardens the
heart against the influences of religion. I do not
wish ever to see you gloomy, or austere, or spirit-
less ; but as you value all that is most precious in
time and eternity, I pray you never to give your-
self up to a habit of levity. Avoid even the most
distant approach to it ; for it is the nature of every
habit, and especially of this, to make an insidious
beginning, and to grow strong by indulgence. If
you are thrown into company in which it is the
fashion to trifle, get out of it as soon as possible ;
and while you are in it, have decision enough to
let it appear that you are not in your favorite
element ; and if you should even have so much as
to express your disapprobation, and to administer a
gentle yet dignified reproof, I venture to say, that
the greatest trifler in the circle would respect you
the more for it. There is no apology to be made
for such a habit on the ground of constitution,
education, or any thing else ; and if you yield to
it, I must again remind you that you do it at the
expense of character, usefulness, happiness, and
heaven.

Be careful also how you indulge in sarcasm.
If you are constitutionally inclined to this, you
will find that there is no point in your character
which needs to be more faithfully guarded.
There are some few cases in which severe irony
9

130 LETTERS TO

may be employed to advantage ; cases in which
vice and error will shrink before it, when they will
unhesitatingly confront every other species of
opposition. But it too often happens that those
who possess this talent use it too indiscrimi-
nately ; and perhaps even more frequently to
confound modest and retiring virtue, than to abash
bold and insolent vice. But be assured that it is
a contemptible triumph that is gained, when, by
the force of sarcasm, the lips of a deserving indi-
vidual are sealed, and the countenance crimsoned
with blushes. And there are only a few cases —
cases in which the cast of character is peculiar
— that will warrant the use of this weapon against
vice itself. You may take it for granted, in all
ordinary cases in which a sarcastic remark has
done its office, that you have excited feelings of
no very friendly character towards yourself. You
may be flattered by the compliment which you
imagine those around you are paying to your wit,
but it were more reasonable for you to grieve at
the reflection that you have not improbably lost a
friend.

In connexion with sarcasm as displayed towards
those with whom you converse, let me say a word
in respect to your treatment of absent characters.
Never volunteer unnecessarily in speaking ill of
any body. You may indeed be placed in circum-

A DAUGHTE

131

stances in which it may be proper and even neces-
sary that you should express an unfavorable opinion
of characters ; that you should state facts concern-
ing them of the most disagreeable nature. But
what I object to is that you should do this when
circumstances do not require it, and when no good
will be likely to result from it ; for it at once indi-
cates a bad disposition, and is a means by which
that disposition will gain strength. But in no case
allow yourself to make any unfavorable represen-
tation of a character, unless you have ample evi-
dence that it is accordant with truth. By neglect-
ing to observe this direction, you may do an injury
to an innocent person, which it will afterwards
never be in your power to retrieve ; and withal
you may acquire for yourself the reputation of a
slanderer. There is an idle way of discussing
characters, in which less is usually meant than
meets the ear, and which often seems to be re-
sorted to merely for the sake of filling up the time.
Remember that if you allow yourself to join in
this kind of conversation, you always do it at the
hazard of making for yourself enemies ; for though
your remarks may be made with perfectly harm-
less intentions, and may convey no bad impres-
sions to the individual to whom they are addressed,
yet when they reach the ear of the person who is
the subject of them, unaccompanied by the man-

132 LETTERS TO

ner in which they were uttered, and not improba-
bly in an exaggerated form, they will almost of
course be regarded as indicating diminished friend-
ship, if not decided hostility. Above all, never
venture censorious remarks upon characters when
you are thrown among strangers. Many instances
have occurred in which an individual who has
ventured upon this experiment has afterwards
made the mortifying discovery that the person
who was the subject of his remarks was listening
to them ; or if not, that they were heard by some
near relative or friend. The only prudent course
in such circumstances, is to say nothing which
will expose your own feelings or the feelings
of others in view of any disclosure that may be
made.

There is a familiar and irreverent use of sacred
things, against which I wish especially to guard
you. For a female to be absolutely profane
would be to render herself at once an outlaw from
decent society ; nevertheless I have observed with
pain that some young ladies, who would doubtless
shrink from the charge of profaneness, allow
themselves in exclamations, and in irreverent and
ludicrous applications of scripture, which border
very closely upon it. Beware how you even ap-
proach this dangerous ground. Such exclama-
tions as those to which I have referred, in which

A DAUGHTER. 133

either the awful name of the Supreme Being or
some one of his attributes is lightly introduced,
are fitted to destroy your reverence for every thing
sacred, and to cherish within you a spirit of ab-
solute impiety. Never suffer any thing of a
sacred nature to be on your^ lips, without a corres-
ponding sentiment of reverence in your heart.
And if those with whom you are accustomed to
associate indulge themselves in this inconsiderate
habit of which I have spoken, think it a sufficient
reason for declining their society ; for certain it is
that you can gain nothing from it to compensate
the loss which }t>u would be liable to sustain of
your reverence for the character or word of God.

I will only detain you farther by suggesting a
caution to cherish a most sacred regard to truth.
It would give me great pain to suppose for a mo-
ment that, at the age to which you have now
arrived, you should ever be guilty of deliberate
falsehood ; but I wish to put you on your guard
against every thing that has even the semblance
of a disregard to strict veracity. There is a habit
which many persons have of dealing artfully and
evasively ; saving their consciences by some ex-
pression which ma}T admit of double construction,
but which nevertheless in its obvious construction
is contrary to truth. There are others who have
a habit of talking extravagantly on every subject ;

134 LETTERS TO

with whom the simple verity is too dry to be
relished ; who suffer their imaginations to supply
the defects of their memories ; who in short never
seem to breathe freely but in the region of embel-
lishment and exaggeration. And I am constrained
to say that much of the civility of fashionable life
savors strongly of deception. I refer here not only
to the habit which some ladies have of sending
word to visitors that they are not at home, when
they are only engaged, but to the painful regrets
that are often expressed at the distance between
calls; at the unspeakable joy which is manifested
on meeting a fashionable acquaintance ; at the
earnest importunity that is exhibited for an early
visit, when the truth is in each case that the real
feeling is that of absolute indifference. Now I beg
you will guard against duplicity in all its forms.
Rely on it, it is not necessary to true politeness ;
and if it were, you ought not as an accountable
and immortal creature, even to agitate the question
whether you shall yield to it. There are cases, I
know, in which the temptation to equivocate is
powerful, in which to speak the honest truth must
involve severe personal sacrifices ; but in all cases
of this kind the only proper alternative is, either
to speak out your real sentiments, or to say no-
thing ; and you are not even at liberty to remain
silent, when silence will convey a wrong impres-

A DAUGHTER. 135

sion, and of course is virtual falsehood. You will
gain nothing if you allow yourself in a habit of
exaggeration ; for this feature in your character
will soon be understood, and your statements will
all be received with a corresponding abatement.
In a word, let it be a principle with you never to
be violated, that in whatever circumstances you
are placed, all that you say shall be characterised
by the simplicity of truth. Study Mrs. Opie's ad-
mirable " Illustrations of Lying;" no other book,
perhaps, except the Bible, is better adapted to lead
you to an intimate knowledge of the windings of
your own heart, or to put you on your guard
against the beginning of this evil.

Your Father.

LETTER X.

AMUSEMENTS.

My Dear Child, — There is scarcely any sub-
ject on which it is more important that you should
form correct notions, and in relation to which
a mistaken view is of more practical and danger-
ous tendency, than that of amusements. Many
a young female, who might have been an orna-
ment to her sex, and a blessing to the world, has,
by yielding to the dictates of a wayward incli-
nation, and setting aside the decisions of sober
reason on this subject, not only rendered herself of
no account in society, but clouded all her prospects
both for this world and another. In contempla-
ting this subject, I wish you to feel that you are
standing by the grave of female character and
hopes, and to heed the monitory voice that issues
from it, charging you to beware how you tread in
the footsteps of the fallen and ruined.

The grand reason why so many females have
fallen victims to the love of amusement is, that
they have judged erroneously of the end which it

BETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 137

is designed to answer. They have taken up the
opinion, (and it must be acknowledged that it has
too often received the sanction even of parents,)
that a portion especially of early life was designed
to be frittered away in idle and foolish indulgences ;
that they are at liberty during this period to regard
the gratification of the senses as an ultimate ob-
ject ; and to think of nothing in connexion with
amusement beyond the mere momentary enjoy-
ment with which it is connected. With this im-
pression they have asked no question with so
much interest as how they may most effectually be
amused ; and this passion has increased by indul-
gence, until they have acquired an utter disrelish
for the sober concerns of life. Who would sup-
pose that beings could be employed in these idle
pursuits, who are destined to an immortal exist-
ence, who are accountable for the improvement of
all their time, and are liable every hour to enter
on an exact and eternal retribution ?

The only rational view of this subject is that
which takes for granted our obligation to use all
our faculties at all times to the best purpose. This
is a first principle not only of scripture but of rea-
son; and it were impossible to prove that we are
exempt from this obligation a single moment, by
any argument which would not at the same time
prove that we are alwavs exempt from it ; in other

138 LETTERS TO

words, which would not disprove human accounta-
bleness and sweep away the pillars of God's moral
government. It is a command, dictated by God's
own Spirit, that whatever we do we should do all to
his glory; and if there had been any department of
human action to which this command was not de-
signed to extend, it were impossible but that the ex-
ception should have been made. The legitimate
end of amusement therefore is not answered in mere
personal gratification, but in refreshing and invigor-
ating the powers for the more successful discharge of
duty. The constitution of the human mind is such,
that it will not bear to be intensely employed on the
same object for a long time without interruption :
the effect of an attempt to keep it thus employed
would be that far less would be accomplished than
might be with occasional relaxation; and withal,
the energies of the mind, instead of being quicken-
ed and improved, would gradually be diminished.
Hence some amusement becomes necessary, in
order to secure the greatest usefulness.

In this view, you will perceive not only that
amusement is designed to prepare you for the dis-
charge of duty, that is, for an attention to the
graver concerns of life, but that it is itself an im-
portant part of duty, and like every thing else in
which you engage, ought to be subject to the di-
rection of conscience. You have no more right

A DAUGHTER.

139

to forget your accountableness or to refuse to ac-
knowledge God in selecting your amusements, or
in yielding yourself to them, than you have when
you enter the closet or sanctuary to engage in
private or public worship.

You will perceive, moreover, if the preceding
remarks are correct, that the whole purpose of
amusement may be answered by mere change of
employment. It is by no means necessary, as the
popular notion is, that the change should be from
an employment that is useful to one that is useless
or even worse ; but the object may be even better
accomplished by a change that shall keep the
mind still employed to advantage. If your ordi-
nary employment is one that lays your faculties
under severe contribution, that to which you re-
sort for amusement ought undoubtedly to require
but moderate mental exercise ; and in cases of
great exhaustion from intellectual effort, it may be
proper to give the mind for a season an entire dis-
pensation from the labor of connected thought.
But in all ordinary cases, you will find that in un-
bending from severe exertion of mind, with refer-
ence to renewing that exertion with greater suc-
cess, you need not yield to positive inaction, or
occupy yourself with any thing that is trifling, but
may still be doing something for the benefit of
yourself or your fellow-creatures. If you regulate

140 LETTERS TO

your amusements by a regard to this principle,
you will find it a most effectual means of redeem-
ing time, and will have the pleasure to reflect that
even your hours of relaxation are hours of useful-
ness.

There are several tests by which you may
judge whether any particular amusement is inno-
cent ; of course, whether it is safe and right for
you to indulge in it. Inquire, for instance, wheth-
er, before engaging in it, you dare enter your
closet, and ask God to accompany it with his
blessing. Do not think this a superstitious sug-
gestion. Rely on it, it is fully accordant with en-
lightened reason and conscience. We have no
right to use our faculties in any way which our
Maker and Judge does not approve ; and if we are
conscious of using them aright, we shall at once
feel our need of his blessing, and be encouraged to
supplicate it. I am well aware that it is a thought
which has never entered the mind of most young
persons, that God should be acknowledged in
their amusements ; and if they have ever thought,
of attempting to approach this awful and glorious
Being, this has been a subject on which con-
science 1ms dictated petitions for forgiveness,
though the idea of supplicating a blessing would
seem to them little short of impiety. The reason
obviously is that the amusements in which they

A DAUGHTER. 141

indulge, are felt to be wrong : they are not such
as will abide the scrutiny of an enlightened con-
science, much less the scrutiny of a holy God. If
you dare not enter your closet and ask God to
bless you in any amusement in which you are
about to engage, you may 'safely take that as a
testimony of conscience against it ; and if you do
not retreat, you may make up your mind to en-
counter the lashes of conscience hereafter, as
part of your retribution for disobeying her sug-
gestions.

Equally certain is it that it cannot be right to
engage in any amusement which is fitted to give
you a disrelish for serious reflection. All who ac-
knowledge the truth of the Bible, indeed all but
the downright atheist, are compelled to admit, that
the circumstances of our present existence are
deeply solemn ; and that he who shuts his eyes
against them is chargeable with gross infatuation.
We are here passing the only period of our proba-
tion for eternity. The glories of immortal life are
brought within our reach, and are suspended on
our acceptance of the terms of the gospel ; and the
very first step towards the acceptance of these
terms, is serious consideration. Is it not manifest
then, that any thing which excites a disrelish for
reflection, and of course puts at hazard the soul's
everlasting interests, must be wrong ? If you find

142 LETTERS TO

that such has been the effect of any amusement in
which you have indulged, let it be a reason why
you should instantly abandon it : or if you are
convinced that such would be the effect of any to
which you are solicited or inclined, let it be a
reason why you stand aloof from it, and maintain
your ground with unyielding firmness.

It were preposterous, moreover, to practise any
amusement, which you cannot think of without
pain or remorse, in connexion with the prospect
of dying. That death is the certain lot of all,
and of yourself in common with others, is a fact
just as well established as the fact of your exist-
ence. That death itself is a most serious event,
and that the consequences connected with it are
momentous beyond our conceptions, is no matter
of question with any believer in divine revelation.
Equally certain is it, that the hour of our depart-
ure from this world may be rendered the peaceful
dawn of an eternal day, or it may be an hour of
darkness, and agitation, and horror, which the
boldest imagination cannot describe. Now I ask
again, is it not more than madness to engage in
any amusement which conscience tells you, will
not bear to be reviewed when the current of life
is ebbing away ; nay, which must inevitably plant
a thorn in your dying pillow. Surely no person,
who acts under the influence of reason, can object

A DAUGHTER. 143

to this, as a perfectly fair test by which to decide
upon the guilt or innocence of any amusement ;
for no one can deny, that it is the dictate of true
wisdom that we should consider and prepare for
our latter end. Here then, I pray you to take
counsel of reason, and not suffer yourself to be
deluded by mere feeling ; and if you are tempted
to amuse yourself in any way which you really
believe will cast an additional shade upon the dark
valley, or the tendency of which is to make you
wish that death were more distant, resist the
temptation, let it be at whatever expense it may.
There is no worldly gratification which it were
not wise to forego, if it be a seed which will yield
a harvest of wretchedness in your last hour.

Let me add that you cannot innocently indulge
in any amusement which will not fit you for the
better discharge of the ordinary duties of life. If
this be not the effect, the time which is thus occu-
pied is worse than lost ; for not only is there no
good accomplished, but the faculties, by this
means, acquire, or are confirmed in, a wrong
direction. And thus habits are often formed, both
intellectual and moral, which are alike incon-
sistent with dignity, happiness, and usefulness.
But surely I need not again remind you that, in
respect to the improvement of your time, and the
use of your faculties, you are a steward of God ;

144 LETTERS TO

and that you cannot be indifferent concerning
either, but at the expense of proving yourself
unfaithful, and of incurring the Master's displeas-
ure. Is it not lamentably true, that a large part
of the amusements that prevail in the world, in-
stead of invigorating the faculties for the more
faithful discharge of duty, actually unfit the mind
for useful exertion on the one hand, and create
a disrelish for it on the other ? I need not repeat
the caution that you will have no communion with
any of these scenes of unprofitable indulgence.

That you may not misapprehend my meaning,
I will descend a little to particulars, and give you
my opinion, in a few words, of some of the fash-
ionable amusements of the day.

I will begin with parties of pleasure. You
already know that I am in favor of your cultivat-
ing the social affections. Instead of objecting to
your meeting occasionally a circle of friends, for
an agreeable interchange of kind sentiments, and
for purposes of intellectual and moral improve-
ment, I would encourage such meetings with all
my heart ; and if you choose to call them parties
of pleasure, you have my consent for doing so.
But those scenes which usually pass in the world
under this name — scenes of mere conviviality
and trifling — in which there is nothing to en-
lighten the mind, or to refine or elevate the affec-

A DAUGHTER. 145

tions, I am constrained to regard as utterly unwor-
thy a rational and accountable being. It is not the
fact that the occasions to which I refer, usually
collect a large number, that constitutes the ground
of my objection to them ; for a large number may
as well be occupied in a profitable manner as a
small one ; — but it is the fact that the very pur-
pose for which they come together is to fritter away
time in idle and foolish conversation. It is this
circumstance which gives to the parties to which
I refer, their distinctive character ; and whether
they consist of many or few, their tendency is per-
haps equally pernicious. They not only answer
no good purpose, but serve to dissipate the mind,
and throw open the doors of the heart to every
temptation.

Another amusement which has been very com-
mon, and which still prevails to a considerable
extent is dancing. To this, considered as a mere
exercise, no objection certainly can be made; and
if it were cultivated with exclusive reference to
this, nothing worse could be said of learning to
dance than that it is not the most profitable way of
spending time. And I will go further and add,
that if a few girls were disposed to stand up to-
gether for a half hour, and dance for recreation, I
cannot conceive that there could be an}^ immorali-
ty in it. But all this, you are perfectly aware, is
'10

146 LETTERS TO

very remote from the amusement as it actually ex-
ists. Every one knows that it brings the sexes to-
gether in circumstances, to say the least, not the
most favorable to the cultivation of female deli-
cacy ; that the mind is usually engrossed for a con-
siderable time, in preparation for it ; that, for the
most part, it occupies hours which the Creator de-
signed should be given to repose ; that it is fitted
to cherish a spirit of vanity, and work up the mind
to a feverish and useless excitement ; and that it
is followed by a state, both of mind and body,
which for a time at least, forbids any thing like
useful exertion. I am confident that I might ap-
peal to any young female who is accustomed to
dance in balls and assemblies, and if she were
honest, she would confirm, from her own experi-
ence, all that I have said. I have been struck
with the fact that in every instance in which I
have ever heard a young female, under serious
impressions, speak of that part of her life which
she has devoted to this amusement, she has said
unhesitatingly, that, more than any thing else, it
served to confirm her in a habit of carelessness,
and to give her an aversion to the concerns of
religion. Such testimony rendered in such cir-
cumstances, ought surely to be regarded as deci-
sive.

The only other amusement in relation to which

A DAUGHTER. 147

I shall at present offer an opinion, is the theatre.
The great argument which is urged in favor of
this is, that it is a school in which you may study
to advantage the human character ; inasmuch as
the various operations of the heart, under diffe-
rent circumstances, are here successfully exhibited.
This argument is worth nothing; for it were
better to study human nature, as it is acted out in
the every day realities of life around us, than as it
appears in the high wrought and overstrained
representations of the stage ; just as it would be
desirable to contemplate any object of interest
rather than a picture of it, even though it might
be drawn by the most skilful artist. And as for
the objections to this amusement, they are so ob-
vious that I scarcely need allude to them. The
vulgarity, the licentiousness, the impiety connected
with it, are proverbial ; and if the fact did not
stare us in the face, we should say that it was
impossible that ladies professing the utmost deli-
cacy, and who, in private, would be offended by
an indecent allusion, will nevertheless deliberately
and habitually expose themselves to all the pro-
faneness and ribaldry of the stage. And what
renders this still more surprising is, that in being
present on these occasions, they consent to mingle
with the most profligate part of the community ;
with persons who are at home only in the atmos-

148 LETTERS TO

phere of moral corruption, and whom common de-
cency cannot behold without a blush. I say this
is a fact in the history of your sex for which I own
myself utterly unable to account ; but I earnestly
hope that I may never be compelled to contemplate
an example of it in my own child. Should this be
the case, I should consider my fond hopes in re-
spect to you as blasted, and should shed tears of
deeper anguish than if I had consigned you to an
early grave.

If the thought should occur to you that I am
abridging your liberty too far, by depriving you
of amusements which are regarded by many as in-
nocent, let me entreat you before you indulge such
a reflection, to pause and refer the several species
of amusement of which I have spoken, to the tests
which I am sure your reason and conscience have
already approved. Upon which of them, let me
ask, could you, in your closet, and upon your knees,
humbly invoke the blessing of God? Which of
them could you indulge, and not feel an increased
aversion to the serious concerns of religion ; espe-
cially to the duty of self-examination, and commu-
nion with God ? In which of them should you be
willing to engage, if you were to be assured by a
messenger from the invisible world, that you were
spending the last month or the last week of your
probation. In relation to which of them can you

A DAUGHTER. 149

say, in the presence of the Searcher of hearts, that
it would serve to prepare you the better for the va-
rious personal and relative duties of life? I am
sure that I need only propose these interrogato-
ries to your conscience, to satisfy you that there is
no superstition in the advice which I have given
you in respect to these several amusements.

But I know you will ask, if the fashionable
amusements of the day are proscribed, what are
those in which you may safely and innocently in-
dulge. I answer in general by repeating what I
have already said, that there is scarcely any em-
ployment, different from your ordinary one, which
requires comparatively little mental effort, in which
you may not find legitimate recreatio 1. You may
amuse yourself by various kinds of reading, which
at the same time will exert a favorable influence
on your understanding and heart. You may amuse
yourself by the study of natural science ; espe-
cially by arranging the flowers of the field, and
calling them by their names ; or by carrying your
curious researches into the mineral kingdom, and
decyphering the evidences of the Creator's handy
work in the mountain rock, and the insignificant
pebble, and every degree of mineral existence be-
tween them. You may amuse yourself by cheer-
ful and yet useful conversation with some en-
tertaining friend, or even by walking abroad in

150 LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER.

solitude, and breathing the fresh air, and looking
at the moon and the stars as they shine forth in si-
lent grandeur on the face of the sky, or in contem-
plating the bright verdure that covers the earth in
spring, or in listening to the sound of a distant
brook, as it rushes down a steep mountain, and
buries itself in a deep forest. The contemplation
of these various objects, and of all the variegated
scenery of nature, opens a most legitimate field for
amusement, while it is fitted also to enlarge our
conceptions of the Creator's works, and to foster a
spirit of elevated devotion and rational piety.

I am Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XL

INTERCOURSE WITH THE WORLD.

My Dear Child, — In several of the preceding
letters I have taken for granted that you are to
mingle, in a greater or less degree, in society.
It is equally essential to your respectability and
usefulness, that }t>u should not live the life of a
recluse. The constitution of your nature, and the
circumstances of your condition clearly indicate
that you were made to be social. As it is a sub-
ject, however, in relation to which there is a strong
tendency to extremes, and on which you will be
in great danger of being misled, I shall suggest a
few thoughts in the present letter, which may
serve to aid in forming your opinions and direct-
ing your conduct.

I begin my advice to you on this subject by a
caution that you should not make your entrance
into society at too early a period. It too often
happens that girls, long before they have complet-
ed their education, and even at a comparatively
early stage of it, have contracted a strong relish

152 LETTERS TO

for being in the world ; and unless prevented by
the influence of parents or instructors, they are
found thus prematurely in the gayest circles of
fashion. The consequence of this is, that at best,
a divided attention is rendered to their studies ;
that their opportunities for intellectual improve-
ment are enjoyed to little purpose ; and that the
period in which should be laid the foundation of
a solid and useful character, is perverted to the
formation of a habit of mental inaction, and not
improbably to cherish a spirit of intolerable vanity.

Now I do not insist that you should actually
decline all society up to the time of completing
your education ; but I wish that your visiting,
previous to that period, should be, for the most
part, of an informal character ; and that you
should not generally consider yourself at liberty
to accept invitations, even if you should receive
them, to mingle in set circles. This accidental
intercourse of which I have spoken, is all that
will be necessary during the period of your educa-
tion, to aid you in the formation of your manners ;
and any thing beyond it will almost inevitably
interfere with your intellectual improvement, and
of course detract from your ultimate standing in
society.

Let me assure you too that you will be far less
acceptable in society, if you make your appear-

A DAUGHTER.

153

ance prematurely, than if you wait till a proper
period. The common sense of the world is quick
to discern any impropriety on this subject ; and ii
while you are yet a child, you are seen among
those of mature age, virtually claiming to be as
old as they, you can expect nothing else but that
you will beset down as deficient either in modesty
or good sense. Better for your reputation that
you should come too late into society than too
early ; for though in the one case you might lose
•something in point of manners, yet in the other
you would lose more, in the estimation of the
world, on the score of delicacy and correct judg-
ment.

It is not more important that you should avoid
going into society too early, than it is, that when
you do enter it, you should avoid mingling in it
too much. One bad effect of this would be, that
it would leave you with too little time for the dis-
charge of your private and domestic duties. The
culture of your mind and heart, in connexion with
the ordinary cares of domestic life, requires that
a large part of your time should be spent at home ;
and you cannot without great injustice to yourself,
and those with whom you are connected, neglect
these more private duties, for the sake of being
always in the bustle of the world. It is a rare
thins: that you will find a lady who devotes an un-

1-54 LETTERS TO

due proportion of her time to visiting, but that if
yon follow her into the domestic circle, to the
chamber and the fireside, you will find that she
evinces a proportional neglect of some of the du-
ties belonging to the station she occupies. She
is either neglecting to cultivate her understand-
ing, or neglecting to keep her heart, or neglecting
to use the means which Providence has put
into her hands for the intellectual and moral im-
provement of those with whom she is immediately
connected.

Recollect also that the error against which I am
endeavoring to put you on your guard, would not
only prevent your attention to more important
duties, by occupying the time which should be al-
lotted to them, but it would serve actually to give
you a distaste for those duties. Allow yourself in
a constant round of company, even for a short
period, and it will be strange indeed, if you do not
begin to feel that company is your only element ;
if you do not, in a great degree, lose your relish
for the pleasures of the domestic fireside ; if you
do not find yourself complaining of ennui, when
you happen for a season to be providentially shut
up at home. I need not stop to show how entire-
ly such a habit of feeling must disqualify a female
for the most important relations she can ever
sustain.

A DAUGHTER. 15-5

^Moreover, an extravagant fondness for society,
and an excessive indulgence of this inclination,
are almost sure to create a habit of dissipation,
both as it respects the intellect and the feelings.
The mind, by being constantly conversant with
the ever varying scenes of social life, loses, in a
great degree, the command of its own powers ;
and the attempt to concentrate them on any partic-
ular subject, were scarcely more likely to succeed
than would be an attempt to collect every mote
that was floating in the surrounding atmosphere,
while the atmosphere was agitated by a whirl-
wind. The moral feelings too are subject to a
similar influence : for not only is there usually an
entire absence of self communion, and all that
secret discipline of the affections, which is essen-
tial to the right keeping of the heart, but too often
there are the levities of the world, scenes from
which there is a studied exclusion of religion, and
even a designed introduction of much that is fitted
to bring religion into contempt. I do not say that
this evil, in its whole extent, is commonly found
in any of the walks of decent society ; but I do
say that it sometimes exists in the frightful dimen-
sions which I have attributed to it; and that it
commonly exists in so great a degree as to render
an excessive intercourse with the world a fruitful
source of mischief.

156 LETTERS TO

You will anticipate me when I say, in this con-
nexion, that it becomes you to use the utmost
caution in selecting the circle with which you are
to associate. I hardly need admonish you to set
it down as a fixed purpose that you will never, in-
tentionally, be found in any circle in which there
is any thing to encourage immorality, or any lack
of reverence for the sacred principles and precepts
of religion. I would have you, moreover, beware
of mingling in the gay world ; in scenes which
are designed to produce an unnatural and fever-
ish excitement of the spirits, which are fraught
with no intellectual or moral advantage, and in
which the introduction of grave or useful dis-
course would be the signal for disquietude or dis-
gust. 1 do not, by any means, insist that your
associates should ail be from the number of those
who are professedly or actualty pious ; nor do I
object at all to your intercourse with them being
of a cheerful, and sometimes, if you please, an
amusing character ; but I do insist that they
should be persons of correct moral views and
habits, and that your associating with them should
be for some higher purpose than merely to kill
time, or to cultivate a spirit of trifling. It were
desirable too, as I have had occasion elsewhere
to remark concerning your particular friends,
that the circle with which you chiefly associate,

A DAUGHTER. 157

should possess a good degree of intelligence ;
that thus your social intercourse may be instru-
mental of improving not only your heart but
your understanding. If you take due precautions
on this subject, the time that you pass in society,
instead of being lost, may subserve in a high
degree, your most important interests ; while
the neglect of such precautions will render the
same hours a mere blank in the period of your
probation.

It is natural and proper that those with whom
you chiefly mingle should be from the same walks
of life with yourself. You may, however, some-
times providentially be thrown among those, the
circumstances of whose birth and education have
given them a rank quite superior to any which
you can claim ; and as the case may be, persons
of this character may proffer 3-011 their confidence
and friendship. In all cases of this kind, never
suffer yourself to be deluded by any thing that is
connected with the pride or circumstance of life ;
and do not think it a privilege to mingle in soci-
ety of the most elevated worldly rank, provided
there be any thing in it to put in jeopardy your
moral principles and feelings. And let me say too,
that, though you may very properly accept a fair
and honorable introduction into any circle, no
matter how elevated, yet you ought never, by a

158 LETTERS TO

single action, or word, or look, to signify a wish
for any such distinction. It would indicate a
species of ambition certainly not the most honora-
ble, and if you should accomplish }^our object, it
is more than probable that you would meet the re-
ception which is due only to an intruder.

You would do injustice to yourself, and be
wanting in the discharge of your duty, if you
should not occasionally, and even frequently, min-
gle in the lower classes of society. Not that I
would be an advocate for confounding or annihila-
ting those distinctions which Providence has
manifestly ordained ; nor would I have you in
your intercourse with those in the humble walks
of life, lose sight of the mutual relations which
you and they sustain to each other. But. I
would have you go among them with the benign
aspect of friendship ; and I would have you make
them feel that you recognise them as fellow crea-
tures, placed in many respects on the same level
with yourself; and I would have you leave an im-
pression upon their minds that the adventitious
distinctions of life are really of little moment
compared with those points in relation to which
all stand upon an equality. The condescending
yet dignified familiarity which this species of in-
tercourse would discover, would do more than
you can easily imagine, to render the poor con-

A DAUGHTER. 159

tented and cheerful, and to secure for yourself
their gratitude and confidence. And let me say
too, that its influence upon your own heart would
be most salutary; that it Would serve to refine
and elevate your social affections, and confer dig-
nity on your whole character.

There is one more point involved in the general
subject of this letter which is too important to be
omitted — I refer to the deportment which it be-
comes you to maintain towards the other sex.
The importance of this, both as it respects your-
self and others, you can scarcely estimate too
highly. On the one hand, it has much to do in
forming your own character ; and I need not say
that any lack of prudence in this respect, even for
a single hour, may expose you to evils which no
subsequent caution could enable you effectually
to repair. On the other hand, the conduct of
every female who is of the least consideration,
may be expected to exert an influence on the
character of every gentleman with whom she
associates ; and that influence will be for good or
evil, as she exhibits, or fails to exhibit, a deport-
ment that becomes her. Indeed, so commanding
is this influence, that it is safe to calculate upon
the character of any communit}^, from knowing
the prevailing standard of female character ; and
that can scarcely be regarded as an exaggerated

160 LETTERS TO

maxim, which declares that " women rule the
world."

Let me counsel you then never to utter an ex-
pression, or do an act, that even looks like solici-
ting any gentleman's attention. Remember that
every expression of civility, to be of any value,
must be perfectly voluntary ; and any wish on
your part, whether directly or indirectly expressed,
to make yourself a favorite, will be certain to
awaken the disgust of all who know it. i would
not recommend to you any thing like a prudish
or affected reserve ; but even this were not so un-
fortunate an extreme, as an excessive forwardness.
While you modestly accept any attentions which
propriety warrants, let there be no attempt at art-
ful insinuation on the one hand, or at taking
a man's heart by storm on the other.

Be not ambitious to be considered a belle. In-
deed : had rather you would be almost any thing
else that does not involve gross moral obliquity
than this. It is the fate of most belles that they
become foolishly vain, think of nothing, and care
for nothing, beyond personal display, and not un-
frequently sacrifice themselves in a mad bargain,
which involves their destinies for life. The more
of solid and enduring esteem you enjoy, the better ;
and you ought to gain whatever of this you can
by honorable means ; but to be admired, and ca~

A DAUGHTER. 161

ressed and flattered, for mere accidental qualities,
which involve nothing of intellectual or moral
worth, ought to render any girl, who is the subject
of it, an object of pity. You are at liberty to de-
sire the good opinion of every gentleman of your
acquaintance ; but it would be worse than folly in
you to be ambitious of a blind admiration.

I will only add, that you ought to be on your
guard against the influence of flattery. Rely on
it, the man who flatters you, whatever he may
profess, is not your friend. It were a much kinder
office, and a real mark of friendship, to admonish
you tenderly yet honestly, of your faults. If you
yield a little to flattery, you have placed yourself
on dangerous ground ; if you continue to yield,
you are not improbably undone.

Adieu for the present.

Your Devoted Father.

11

LETTER XII.

MARRIAGE.

My Dear Child, — The event of marriage
marks an important era in the life of a young
female. It introduces her to some new and most
interesting relations. It devolves upon her a set
of cares, and duties, and responsibilities, to which
she has hitherto been unaccustomed. It usually
lays the foundation for increased happiness, or for
bitter, and enduring, and unavailing regrets.

I begin my advice to you on this subject, by
suggesting a caution against forming this connex-
ion prematurely. There is scarcely any thing
that indicates a greater lack of discretion, than for
a young girl, at a time when she ought to be giv-
ing her thoughts to her books, and thus laying the
foundation for respectability and usefulness, to be
giving her heart to some admirer, and entering
into an arrangement for speedily giving him her
hand. The consequence of this is, that she is only
imperfectly educated, and not unfrequently, is sub-
jected through life, by her deficiencies, to serious

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 163

inconvenience and mortification. She enters the
conjugal state miserably qualified to sustain its
responsibilities ; and not improbably acquires a
cast of character in that relation, which, unfortu-
nately, is too enduring, and which is alike un-
favorable to her own enjoyment, and that of those
with whom she is immediately connected.

I advise you, therefore, as you value your pros-
pects of happiness for life, that you leave all
matrimonial arrangements to a period subsequent
to the completion of your education. Even if
proposals of marriage should be made to you, and
of an eligible kind, previous to that time, it must
be an extraordinary case indeed in which you
would be warranted to accept them. The very
fact of your forming such an engagement, and
especially of your suffering it to arrest your edu-
cation, would be set down to your disadvantage.
It would be regarded as indicating at least an
unfortunate weakness in your character, which
would be no favorable prognostic of a solid and
enduring reputation.

Another evil which you should avoid, in con-
nexion with this subject, is that of forming this
relation, or pledging yourself to it, without due
deliberation. Every one knows that there is no
department of human experience which is so
fruitful in wonderful occurrences as this ; and one

164 LETTERS TO

of the most singular of them all is the fact, that
many a young lady disposes of herself for life, to
a man with whom her acquaintance has been
limited to a few days, or even a few hours. I
admit that there may be solitary cases of this kind
in whi;h the result is favorable ; but no female,
who makes the rash experiment, has a right to
calculate, either from the analogy of experience
or the nature of the case, upon any thing else than
that the result will be most disastrous. If there
be one instance in which there has proved to be a
congeniality of thought and feeling favorable to
domestic happiness, there are many in which the
most opposite tempers and habits have been
brought into an unnatural union, and the gravr3
of conjugal happiness has opened beneath the
very altar at which the conjugal union was con-
summated.

I would have you then on your guard against
taking a rash step in relation to this important
matter. Bear in mind that the decision which
you form on this subject is to affect vitally your
interests for life ; and not only yours but at least
those of one other individual. The consequences
of an erroneous decision you will not be able to
avoid : they will meet you, and follow you, and
attend you, through the whole of the rugged path
which conducts you to the grave.

A DAUGHTER. 165

Another point of great importance, connected
with this subject, is the character of the man with
whom you are to be united. There are some
qualities which may be desirable enough, but are
not indispensable : there are others which should
be regarded as absolutely requisite, and the oppo-
sites of which as absolutely disqualifying for this
connexion.

It may be a pleasant circumstance, though it
certainly ought not to be considered indispensable,
that the individual with whom you are to be con-
nected should belong to an influential family.
This might secure to you a more valuable circle
of acquaintance, and actually briftg within your
reach more extended means, both of improvement
and of usefulness, than you could reasonably
expect under different circumstances. It is an im-
portant consideration that in marriage the wife
rises or sinks to the level of the husband ; and this
is a reason why at least a respectable circle of con-
nexions on his side, is with her a just desidera-
tum ; for if there be any blot on the character of
his family which even remotely extends to him,
as soon as her destinies are united with his, she
comes in, almost of course, for her share of the
odium ; at least it has an influence in determining
the rank she is to hold in societj'. There are cases,
indeed, in which an extraordinary degree of per-

166 LETTERS TO

sonal merit completely redeems the character of
an individual from the deepest family disgrace ,
and in such cases a lady would have nothing to
fear from public opinion in giving her hand in
marriage: but in any other circumstances it were
certainly desirable that she should not throw her-
self into a circle of connexions of a rank greatly
inferior to those with whom she has been accus-
tomed to mingle. If Providence should place you
by marriage in a more elevated condition than
that to which you hive been accustomed, you may
regard it as a favor that demands your gratitude,
and as a means put into your hands for getting
and doing good. But I repeat, never consider this
indispensable. Be satisfied if the new circle of
connexions hold a fair and reputable standing.

I regard fortune, as it stands related to the mar-
riage of a young lady, in nearly the same light as
family. Great riches are desirable only as a
means of doing good : as a means of enjoyment
independently of the opportunity they furnish for
the exercise of a benevolent spirit, they are really
worth very little ; and are in no respect to be pre-
ferred to a fair competence. If I have any wish
that you should be rich it is not that I may see
you in circumstances of splendor, but that I may
see you setting a noble example of benevolence ;
not that you may outshine those around you in the

A DAUGHTER. 167

magnificence of your dwelling, or the costliness
of your furniture or equipage, but that you may
deservedly bear the palm in doing good to the
wretched and perishing. But when I remember
how often riches become a snare to their possess-
ors, and how many females have been ruined by a
sudden elevation to a fortune, I cannot say that I
have a wish that you should ever encounter the
temptations incident to that condition. It is cer-
tainly desirable that there should be a competence
on one side or the other ; so much as to furnish
adequate means, in connexion with the avails of
some honest and honorable calling, for the support
of a family ; but within this limit any lady may
reasonably circumscribe her wishes.

Do not marry a fop. There is in such a cha-
racter nothing of true dignity; nothing that com-
mands respect, or ensures even a decent standing
in the community. There is a mark upon him,
an affected elegance of manner, a studied particu-
larity of dress, and usually a singular inanity of
mind, by which he is known in every circle in
which he moves. His very attitude and gait tell
the stranger who he is, though he only passes him
silently in the street. To unite your destiny with
such a man, I hardly need say, would be to im-
press the seal of disgrace upon your character, and
the seal of wretchedness upon your doom.

168 LETTERS TO

Do not marry a spendthrift. No, not if he have
ever so extensive a fortune ; for no degree of
wealth can secure such a man from the degrada-
tion of poverty. I have in my eye at this moment
an accomplished female*, (and it were easy to
adduce a thousand similar cases,) who married a
man of vast wealth, but of prodigal habits ; and
years have passed away since that immense for-
tune has gone to the winds ; and the last remains
of it were squandered amidst the tears, and in
spite of the tender and earnest expostulations of a
suffering famil}r. And now if I should look for
that once rejoicing and apparently fortunate bride,
I should go to an obscure cabin of wretchedness,
and should find her laboring with her own hands
to provide bread for her more than orphan chil-
dren, and she would tell me a tale of wo, which
however familiar to me, would make me sit down
and weep. This same man, who has plunged her
and her little ones into so much wretchedness,
possesses many naturally amiable qualities, and is
gifted with enviable powers of 'mind; but unhap-
pily in early life he became a spendthrift, and on
this rock the fortunes of himself and of his family
were wrecked. If you should ever give yourself
to a man of similar character, you need not be
disappointed if you should experience a similar
destiny.

A DAUGHTER. 169

Do not marry a miser. Such a man may be
rich, very rich, but you could expect that his
riches would yield you little, else than misery. It
is not improbable that you might have the morti-
fication of being compelled not only to refuse every
call of charity, but to abridge, in a great degree,
your own personal comforts, and of knowing at
the same time that there were ample means within
your reach which yet you were forbidden to
appropriate. If you must marry a miser, I would
say, better marry one who is poor than one who
is rich ; for in the former case, to whatever incon-
venience you might be exposed, you would be
saved the disheartening reflection, that you were
poor in the midst of abundance. As I would
have you always cultivate a noble and liberal
spirit, I beg you will never for a moment think of
forming a connexion, that shall subject you in this
respect to the least embarrassment.

Do not marry a man whose age is greatly dis-
proportioned to your own. I will not sav that
circumstances never exist which justify a devia-
tion from this rule ; or that there are no cases
in which it is violated, that result favorably to
the happiness of both parties. But I am con-
strained to say that such connexions present, at
least to my own eye, a violation of good taste, and
seem contrary to the dictates of nature. Besides.

170 LETTERS TO

it is an exceedingly awkward thing for a young
girl to be going round with a man of triple her
own age as a husband, and puzzling all who see
them together to decide whether she is the grand-
daughter or the wife. And a greater evil still is,
that there must needs ^e in many respects an
entire lack of congeniality between them. He has
the habits and feelings of age, she the vivacity and
buoyancy of youth ; and it were impossible that
this wide difference should not sooner or later be
painfully felt. And she may reasonably expect
that some of her best days will be spent, not in
sustaining the infirmities of an aged father, but in
ministering to the necessities of a superannuated
husband ; and it would not be strange if the bur-
den should be increased by her being compelled to
encounter the spirit of complaint and petulance,
by which old age is often attended. I confess
that, whenever I see a respectable female, in the
meridian of life in these circumstances, I regard
her with pity ; and though I venerate her for the
affectionate and faithful attentions which she ren-
ders to the man whom she has accepted as her
husband, I cannot but wish, for the sake of her
own dignity and happiness, that those attentions
had devolved upon some other individual.

Do not marry a man who is not industrious in
some honorable vocation. It is bad for any indi-

A DAUGHTER. 171

vidual to be without some set employment : the
effect of it is very apt to be, that he abuses his
talents, perverts his time to unworthy purposes, and
contracts a habit of living to little purpose but that
of self gratification. A man without property, and
yet without business, no girl could ever think of
marrying, unless she had made up her mind to
sell herself to the lowest bidder. A rich man may
have retired from active business, after accumu-
lating an estate, and yet may find employment
enough in the supervision and management of it ;
but if a man has become rich by inheritance, and
has never acquired a habit of industry, and has
been brought up in abundance to live only as a
drone, I would say that it were scarcely more safe to
marry him than if he were actually poor ; for this
indolent habit is a pledge of the speedy dissipation
of his property. A habit of industry once formed
is not likely to be ever lost. Place the individual
in whatever circumstances you will, and he will
not be satisfied unless he can be active. More-
over, it will impart to his character an energy and
efficiency, and I may add, dignity, which can
hardly fail to render him an object of respect. I
should regard your prospects for life as far better,
if you should marry a man of very limited pro-
perty, or even no property at all, with an honest
vocation and a habit of industry, than if I were

172 LETTERS TO

to see you united to one of extensive wealth, who had
never been taught to exercise his own powers, and
had sunk into the sensual gratification of himself.
Do not marry a man of an irritable, violent, or
overbearing temper. There is nothing with
which domestic enjoyment is more intimately
connected, than a naturally amiable and affection-
ate disposition; and the absence of this is sure to
render a delicate and sensitive female, in no small
degree, unhappy. To be compelled to witness
frequent ebullitions of angry passion — to hear her
well intended actions often complained of, and
her purest motives bitterly impeached — to feel
that the stern hand of power is stretched over,
rather than the soft arm of kindness laid beneath
her — this is a lot from which it would seem the
gentleness of female character ought to claim an
exemption. I say then, as you value your com-
fort, venture not to form this connexion with a
man of an unamiable temper. The only exception
to be made from this remark is the case of the
man, in whom the principle of religion has gained
such an ascendancy, as to remedy the obliquities
of a perverse constitution. But this is one of the
highest and holiest triumphs of religion itself ; and
you ought to gain good evidence that it has ac-
complished this noble work, before you venture to
stake your happiness upon it.

A DAUGHTER. 173

Do not marry a man who is deficient in under-
standing, or in mental acquisitions. I do not
mean that you should look for an intellect of the
highest order, or that you should consider yourself
entitled to it ; but I mean that a woman of decent
intelligence can never be happy with a fool. If
you were united to a man of inferior endow-
ments, you would not only lose the advantage
which might result from an unreserved intercourse
with one of a different character, but you would
also be subject to a thousand painful mortifica-
tions from the awkward mistakes and ridiculous
opinions which would result from his ignorance.
There is scarcely any thing more painful than to
observe a lady and her husband in society, when
every one feels the superiority of the former to the
latter ; and when the wife herself is manifestly so
much impressed with his inferiority, that the
opening of his lips is the signal for the dropping
of her head, or for a blush to diffuse itself over
her countenance. It were certainly a mark of
imprudence for any lady to marry a man, whom
she would be ashamed to introduce into any circle
to which she would have access.

Do not marry a man who is skeptical in his prin-
ciples. If he be an avowed infidel, or if he hold
any fundamental error in religion, and yet have
every other quality which you could desire, it would

174 LETTERS TO

be an act of infatuation in you to consent to be-
come his wife. You cannot, upon any principles
of reason, calculate that, if you do this, you will
escape injury. I know an instance in which a
young female, who had had a religious education,
married an infidel — a thorough-going disciple of
that female monster, who has recently gone
through this country on the most malignant of all
errands — to corrupt its youth ; and the conse-
quence of this connexion has been, that she has
plunged with her husband into the gulf of infidel-
ity, and now openly reviles the Saviour, and ridi-
cules the most sacred and awful truths of religion.
I know another instance in which the husband of
a lady of established religious principles, and of
apparently devoted piety, became a zealous advo-
cate of one of the grossest systems of ( rror that
has ever been baptized into the Christian name ;
and though at first she halted, and thought she
could never yield, and even expostulated with her
husband to retreat from the verge of the precipice,
yet she herself at length tremblingly approached,
and finally took the fatal leap; and now, instead of
hearing her talk of her reliance on Jesus Christ,
and of the preciousness and the power of his aton-
ing sacrifice, you will hear her speak of him as
only a good moral teacher, and of her own salva-
tion as if the glory of it all belonged to herself.

A DAUGHTER. 175

And I doubt not that these instances furnish a fair
illustration of the influence of such a connexion on
the female character. You may rest assured that
you cannot be the constant companion of an infidel,
without breathing an atmosphere that is strongly
impregnated with moral corruption; and it were
little short of a miracle if you should breathe
such an atmosphere, without inhaling the elements
of death. If I were to see you in these circum-
stances, though I would still commend you to a
God of mercy, I could scarcely forbear to weep
over your lot, as if your ruin were actually
accomplished.

Do not marry a man of questionable morality.
However correct may be his moral and religious
opinions, if he be addicted to only a single species
of vice, you have no security that he will not sink
into the vortex of profligacy. If he be a profane
man, he certainly cannot have the fear of God be-
fore his eyes, and of course cannot be under the
controlling influence of moral obligation. If he
suffer himself to be only occasionally found at the
gaming table, or if he be addicted in the slightest
degree to intemperance, there is a melancholy
probability that he will, ere long, become a des-
perate gambler, and a shameless sot ; and think
what it would be to be obliged to recognize such a
man as vour nearest friend : — a man whose

176 LETTERS TO

character is rendered odious by the very loath-
someness of depravity. I say then, if there be a
single exceptionable point in the moral character
of the man who offers himself to you, reject his
proposals without hesitation ; to accept them
would in all probability be to prepare for yourself
a cup of unmingled bitterness, and possibly to
exile yourself from the society of your own
friends.

Having said thus much in relation to what
should be avoided, and what should be desired, in
the character of a husband, I shall close this letter
with a few brief directions in respect to your con-
duct previously and subsequently to your forming
an engagement.

If a gentleman addresses you on the subject of
marriage, the presumption is that the proposal is
unexpected ; and unless you can decide instantly
in the negative, (in which case you are bound to
apprise him of your decision without delay,) it is
proper that you should make his proposal a sub-
ject of immediate and serious consideration. In
ordinary cases, it is unnecessary to ask the advice
of any beside your parents. It is due to filial
respect that they should be consulted ; and as they
are most deeply interested in your happiness, you
could not fail to regard their opinion with suitable
deference. The two great questions which you

A DAUGHTER. 177

have to decide in order to form your ultimate con-
clusion, are, whether, on the whole, you are satis-
fied with his character, and whether you are
susceptible of that degree of affection for him
which will justify this connexion. If, after due
consideration, you can answer both these ques-
tions in the affirmative, it may be safe to decide
agreeably to his wishes. If you are constrained
to answer either in the negative, your duty to him
as well as yourself demands that you should come
to a contrary decision. And in either case, you
are to lose no time in apprising him of the result.
If it be that you decline his proposals, make it
known to him in a manner which will be least
likely to wound his sensibility, and let the secret
of his having addressed you never pass your lips.
Your answer in this case places him in an un-
pleasant situation at any rate ; and it were more
than cruel to add to his mortification by giving
publicity to the occasion of it. If, on the other
hand, the result is that you accept his proposals,
modestly and affectionately inform him of it, and
from that period consider yourself sacredly bound
through every vicissitude to become his wife.

An engagement thus deliberately formed, and

involving such important interests, it were an

indication of something more than weakness to

trifle with : it betrays an obliquity of moral feeling,

12

178 LETTERS TO

a lack of generous sensibility, and a recklessness
of character, which might well lead any gentle-
man, towards whom the outrage was directed, to
congratulate himself upon having been the subject
of it, rather than to have had the same qualities
to encounter for life, in the nearest and tenderest
of all relations. The young lady, who wantonly
refuses to fulfil an engagement of marriage, in the
estimation of all whose good opinion is worth
possessing, subjects herself to disgrace ; and you
will find, not unfrequently, that Providence ordains
something like a retribution in rendering any sub-
sequent connexion which may be formed, a source
of continual unhappiness.

There are only two cases which occur to me,
in which there can be any good ground for a
young lady to decline giving her hand in mar-
riage after it has been promised. The one is
that in which the person, to whom she is pledged,
subsequently to an engagement avows licentious
principles, or yields to any immoral practice. The
other is that in which she discovers that he has
intentionally concealed from her any thing in
respect to his character or circumstances, which,
had she known it seasonably, would have pre-
vented her forming the engagement. In both
these cases it is manifest that she has a right to
withdraw ; for in the one, he has voluntarily

^■■I^HHH

A DAUGHTER. 179

assumed a character which will be sure to render
her wretched, and which, if he had possessed it
when the engagement was formed, would have
led her unhesitatingly to decline his proposals : in
the other, he has gained her consent by deception,
and it were impossible that she should be morally
bound in a contract, in which the ground on which
she would have acted was concealed from her.
But where, instead of immorality or infidelity,
there has been nothing but misfortune ; where the
evils which have come upon him, however dis-
astrous, have been the result, not of his own folly
or guilt, but of the ordinance of Heaven, there is
not the shadow of an apology for her deserting
him. I do not say that circumstances may not
exist, in which it may be best for both parties that
the engagement should not take effect ; but if it is
dissolved, let it be a matter of fair understanding,
and mutual consent : for her to refuse to fulfil it
were nothing less than a wanton violation of good
faith. In becoming engaged to him, she of course
consented to share with him the lot which Provi-
dence should appoint ; and though she certainly
has a right to refuse to share the consequences of
vices which he may subsequently have contracted,
she has no right to decline a part with him in any.
afflictions which may be administered by the righ-
teous hand of God.

ISO LETTERS TO

But you will ask, perhaps, whether there is not
yet another case, in which a lady may be justified
in declining to fulfil a promise of marriage — that
in which she discovers, after she is engaged, that
the person to whom she has come under obliga-
tion, is not in a sufficient degree the object of her
affection. In a case of this kind, I Avould say, let
her beware how she yields to an occasional freak
of feeling, or take up the opinion that she has no
solid attachment to the individual, because in
some particular states of mind she feels or ima-
gines that she feels a sentiment of indifference
toward him. But if she is satisfied after faith-
fully watching her own feelings, that the prevail-
ing habit of her mind towards him is a habit of
indifference or aversion, better perhaps that she
should honestly communicate the fact to him, and
no doubt his consent will be readily obtained for
the dissolution of the engagement. But in this
case, let her remember that she does not rid her-
self of responsibility. She subjects herself to the
imputation of having acted rashly in a case which
pre-eminently required that she should have acted
deliberately ; or e]se of possessing a fickleness of
character which must throw an air of suspicion
around all her declarations and conduct. The
blame of the whole transaction rests upon herself;
and the most that she can do is, to transfer it

A DAUGHTER. 181

from her conduct at the close, to her conduct at
the beginning. Whatever evil consequences may
result to the individual whom she has disap-
pointed, she must charge, if not upon her delibe-
rate intention to injure, yet upon her criminal
neglect to avoid it. Let her never open her lips
to adduce her want of attachment as the shadow
of an apology. It amounts only to an acknow-
ledgment of her own caprice, and with the dis-
cerning passes for absolutely nothing.

During the period that intervenes between
forming an engagement and consummating the
connexion, let your deportment towards the indi-
vidual to whom you have given your affections,
be marked by modesty and dignity, respect and
kindness. Never, on the one hand, give him the
least reason to question the sincerity of your
regard, nor on the other, suffer your intercourse
with him to be marked by an undignified fami-
liarity. Do all that you can to render him happy ;
and while you will naturally grow in each other's
confidence and affection, you may reasonably
hope that you will be helpers of each other's joy,
in the most endearing of all human relations.

Ever Your Devoted Father.

LETTER XIII.

FORMING RELIGIOUS SENTIMENTS.

My Dear Child, — I have now gone through
with a consideration of a number of those topics
which I deem important to you in practical life.
There is one subject, however, which concerns
you more deeply than any other, which remains
to be considered. It is the subject of Eeligion. It
is this which is indentified with all your interests
as an immortal creature. A deficiency in other
respects may indeed occasion you much incon-
venience in the world; but a radical deficiency
here must extend its influence beyond the grave,
and be felt in the unmitigated pangs of an eternal
perdition.

The first branch of this momentous subject to
which I wish to call your attention is the forma-
tion of A'our religious sentiments. It has been a
doctrine unhappily current in modern times, that
our religious characters do not, in any important
sense, derive their complexion from our religious
opinions ; and the practical influence of this doc-

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 183

trine has been exhibited in confounding the most
important distinctions in religion, and in annihila-
ting in a great measure, the importance of Chris-
tian faith. Theie are no doubt some truths in
religion, concerning which, a mistake does not
constitute a fundamental error ; but it is equally-
true that there are other great and commanding
truths which form the very soul of piety, the be
lief of which must enter radically into our claim
to Christian character. For why have the truths
of the Bible been revealed, if it is not that they
should be believed ; and of what use can a revela-
tion be to us, if it be not so explicit that, with the
proper application of our faculties, we can ascer-
tain what are its leading and essential features ?
Moreover, it is the system of divine truth that is
the basis of the whole fabric of practical religion.
If religion consist exclusively in being a good
neighbor, and in discharging the duties arising
from our social relations, I will admit that faith
in its doctrines may be dispensed with, and yet
no very perceptible chasm be made in the system.
But if it be vastly more comprehensive in its de-
mands ; if it have respect to the manner of our
reconciliation with an offended God ; if it embrace
all the mighty machinery of Providence with
respect to our redemption, and all the duties which
we owe to God as well as man ; then it were as

184

LETTERS TO

absurd to suppose that you can discharge the
great duties of practical religion, while you are
indifferent to the truths of the Bible, as that the
man should calculate the distances of the planets,
or conduct a ship through the ocean, who was
either ignorant or incredulous in respect to the
elementary principles of navigation or astronomy.
It is the practical reception of truth that consti-
tutes the very essence of piety ; and though there
may be a speculative belief of it without a particle
of vital godliness, be assured there can be no such
thing as genuine practical religion without an
intellectual assent to the truth of its doctrines. So
far from being unimportant then, faith is one of
the essential elements of piety.

It is then a question of great moment, in what
manner you shall become possessed of a correct
system of religious opinions. To aid you in this
important matter, let me suggest the following
brief directions

Let your opinions be drawn directly from the
Bible. I know it is the ordinance of Heaven that
the first impressions of divine truth which children
receive, should ordinarily be from their parents;
and it becomes parents to take heed that those
first impressions are correct : but even if your
parents should inculcate error, you can no longer
be innocent in holding it than while you are inca-

A DAUGHTER, 18-5

pable of referring their opinions to the law and
the testimony. The fact that certain doctrines
may have been taught you by the lips of parental
tenderness, is certainly a reason why you should
not lightly cast them from you ; but it is due to
your own personal responsibility that you should
receive no doctrines ultimately on mere human
authority. So also you may derive much advan-
tage from studying the writings of uninspired
men ; but you are to bear in mind that they are
fallible like yourself, and that in adopting their
opinions as your own, without examination, you
not only refuse the privilege which God has given
you, of thinking for yourself, but you needlessly
run the hazard of embracing error. While you
make whatever use you can of these lesser lights
in religion, remember that it is alike your privi-
lege and your duty, to receive the beams of divine
truth directly from the Sun of Righteousness.
Having satisfied yourself that the Bible is a reve-
lation from God, you are to receive implicitly
whatever it contains, however humbling to the
pride of the intellect, or opposed to the strongest
propensities of the heart.

But you will perhaps ask whether, inasmuch as>
great minds have arrived at different and opposite
conclusions in respect to what the Bible contains,
it be not a difficult matter to ascertain its genuine

186 LETTERS TO

doctrines ; so difficult even as to discourage exer-
tion, and furnish some apology for an indolent
acquiescence in human authority. I answer, the
fact to which I have adverted may indeed be a
reason for not taking up any opinions rashly, but
it is also an important argument for not taking
them upon trust ; for if equally gifted minds have
rushed into opposite extremes, it is certain that
fine intellectual powers, unless guided by a proper
moral influence, do not furnish the shadow of a se-
curity against error. The best interpreter of scrip-
ture, and the only safe one, is good common sense,
under the direction of an humble and teachable
temper. Let there be an honest desire to know
the truth, and let that desire be directed to the
author of all spiritual illumination, and let it be
accompanied with a diligent use of the means
which are within our reach, and we need have no
fear of being left to any fundamental error. It
was the declaration of our Saviour to the Jews,
that if they would keep his commandments, they
should know his doctrine whether it was of God.
If a powerful intellect were essential to the right
understanding of scripture, you perceive at once
that to the mass of the world, who possess only
common minds, it would be a mere dead letter ;
but as no higher intellectual powers are necessary
than fall to the common lot of man, in connexion

A DAUGHTER. 1&7

with that spirit of docility and dependence on
divine illumination, which all may, if they will,
possess, it is manifest that the Bible is fairly open
to all ; and that every individual is as truly re-
sponsible for his religious opinions as for his moral
conduct.

In endeavoring to ascertain the doct ines of the
Bible, it were desirable that you should bear in
mind that the obvious meaning of a passage is
generally the correct one ; for if it were not so, it
would be impossible for mankind in general ever
to gain an intelligent conviction of its truths. And,
]f I mistake not, one of the most fruitful sources
of error is found in a disposition to overlook the
obvious meaning and search for something hidden ;
something that shall bear the impression of novelty
or of mystery. Far be it from me to question that
the Bible is an inexhaustible treasury of wisdom ;
and it is one of its glorious peculiarities that it
will supply materials for reflection to the noblest
intellect, and will reward its most diligent re-
searches, through every period of its existence.
Nevertheless, its leading doctrines are fairly within
the reach of common minds in common circum-
stances ; and if you approach it, satisfied to receive
the obvious sense as the true sense, there is no
danger that you will be left to adopt the specula-
tions and vagaries of a u lse theology. A system

1S8 LETTERS TO

of error is never deduced from the Bible easily and
nkturally; it is only by being subjected to the tor-
ture of a false construction.

The true system of religion must, in every re-
spect, correspond with the character of God. As
religion includes the great system of the divine ad-
ministration, it is impossible but that every part
of it must be agreeable to his infinitely perfect na-
ture. Any system of doctrine then which tar-
nishes any of the divine attributes, which is incon-
sistent with the highest exercise of wisdom, good-
ness, justice, faithfulness, or holiness, cannot be
true, and of course, can never have been revealed
by a God of truth. I admit that in the manifes-
tation of these perfections there may be depths
which the line of no human understanding can
fathom : and hence the Bible may and does, in a
certain sense, contain mysteries; but any doctrine
which is perceived to be irreconcilable with the
free and perfect exercise of any of these attributes,
any doctrine which exhibits them at variance with
each other, and which would of course leave the
divine character to suffer in the view of the intel-
ligent creation, must be the product of proud and
erring reason. It will be well for you to inquire
in respect to every doctrine that is proposed to
your faith, what is its bearing upon the character
of God ? Is it honorable or dishonorable to any

A DAUGHTER. 189

or all of the divine perfections ? And if you can
decide this question satisfactorily, you need not
hesitate as to the ultimate conclusion.

But if the true system of religion must be agree-
able to the perfections of God, equally certain is it
that it must be accommodated to the condition of
man ; for one grand design of it is to secure and
perfect human happiness. To say nothing of man
as a social being, and of the fact that the gospel
might be expected to supply rules for the regula-
tion of his conduct in this capacity — it requires
but little knowledge of one's self, and little obser-
vation on the conduct of others, to arrive at the
conclusion that man is a sinner, and as such has
exposed himself to the displeasure of God. Most
unquestionably then, no system of religion could
be suited to the actual exigencies of human na-
ture, but one that should offer a twofold delive-
rance ; — a deliverance from the punishment of sin,
and from the dominion of sin ; for even if the sin-
ner's guilt were cancelled, yet if he were still left
the slave of evil propensities, forgiveness itself
would be no blessing. You perceive that a sys-
tem of religion which should merely prescribe a
course of external morality, however it might be
accommodated to man as a social being, would be
very inadequate to the higher necessities of his
condition ; any system short of that which brings

190 TETTERS TO

peice tr. the laboring conscience, and sanctifica-
tion to the polluted soul, in consistency with the
honor of the divine character and government, as
it could never answer the purpose for which reli-
gion was designed, were no better than a mockery
of human wo. I need not say that a God of love
has never thus trifled with the wants of his crea-
tures.

The true system of religion must also be ra-
tional. There may be, and there are, as I have
already intimated, doctrines, which in some of
their lofty and intricate bearings, we may not be
able to comprehend ; but even these doctrines, so
far as they are practical in the present state of our
existence, commend themselves both to the un-
derstanding and the conscience. That they are
above human reason certainly cannot be ques-
tioned ; but that they are contrary to it never has
been, and never can be shown. God addresses us
in the Bible as rational beings ; of course the
truths which he reveals and requires us to be-
lieve, must be conformable to the reason which he
has given us, and to which he primarily addresses
the revelation. To receive any doctrine that is
contrary to reason, were to insult the dignity of
our own nature : to reject any doctrine merely be-
cause it is above reason, were to claim a right to
sit in judgment on the decisions of the Highest.

A DAUGHTER. 191

The true system of religion must be consistent
with itself. Truth is always consistent ; and as
we have a right here to assume that whatever the
Bible contains is truth, it follows that there must
exist a perfect harmony among its various doc-
trines. There are indeed some portions of scrip-
ture which may be hard to be understood, and may
seem susceptible of some variety of interpretation;
but in every such case the true rule is, to judge of
what is doubtful by what is clear. And if there
be some passages which seem at first view to be
inconsistent with the leading doctrines of the gos-
pel, it is right to presume that these constitute an
exception from the general remark that the obvi-
ous meaning is the true meaning ; and in every
such case it is probable that a more attentive ex-
amination of the passage in its connexion will dis-
close some other sense than that which lies most
upon the surface, which is consistent with the
general tenor of revealed truth.

The true system of religion must be adapted to
make men better. It is impossible but that an in-
finitely holy God should desire that his intelligent
creatures should be holy ; and it were absurd to
suppose that he should have given them a system
of religion which is not adapted to make them so.
Accordingly, one grand argument for the divine
origin of Christianity is found in the holiness of

192 LETTERS TO

its doctrines ; in the fact that it exhibits the lines
of moral purity in such boldness and strength that
it could have been no other than a heaven born
system. If this be so, it follows that no doctrine
which is fitted in any way to loosen the bands of
moral obligation, or to license any of the evil pro-
pensities of the heart, either directly or indirectly,
can be a genuine doctrine of the Bible. It is safe
to presume that that system which fosters a habit
of indifference to practical godliness, and supplies
the human heart with arguments for sinful indul-
gence, is a system of error. It is equally safe to
conclude that that system which makes men
humble and meek before God, benevolent and
useful to their fellow creatures, which exerts an
influence, silent indeed, but certain, to bring up
the human character toward the standard of di-
vine perfection, is the system which bears the
signature of heaven, and in the practical reception
of which, men become wise unto salvation.

Before I close this letter, let me urge you, in the
adoption of your religious sentiments, to keep in
view the solemnities of a dying hour. Nothing
will be more likely than this to guard you against
fatal error. If your opinions are formed not only
in the season of health, but with reference to the
continuance of health, and of life, there is great
danger that they will prove to be another gospel,

A DAUGHTER. 193

and will be so many thorns in your dying pillow.
There is danger that you will take up with some
wretched system of error ; which will serve as a
present opiate to the conscience, but which will
leave conscience to rise upon you at last, when
you can do nothing to silence her accusations.
But if in all your inquiries for the truth, you keep
in view the last hour of your probation ; and if,
before adopting any doctrine or system of doctrine,
you ask yourself how you will be likely to regard
it when the current of life is ebbing away ; —
whether it will come up to your mind then as a
minister of peace or a minister of wrath ; — I say,
if you deal thus honestly with yourself, you can
hardly fail to draw from the Bible those precious
truths which holy men of God spake as they were
moved by the Holy Ghost.

Commending you to the guidance of God's
Spirit, which is able to make you wise unto eternal
life,

T remain Your Affectionate Father.

13

LETTER XIV.

PROPER MODE OF TREATING RELIGIOUS ERROR.

My Dear Child, — Notwithstanding I have ad-
vised you to search the scriptures as the only infal-
lible standard of religious faith, and to admit no
doctrine into your creed, merely upon human tes-
timony, you cannot suppose that I am indifferent
as to the result of your religious inquiries. I have
indeed no fear, if you read the Bible with an hon-
est heart, and with a sincere desire to know the
truth, that you will fall into any fundamental or
dangerous error ; but after all it must be acknow-
ledged, that not a small number of those, who
have made the word of God their constant study,
and have employed all the power of genius, and
all the apparatus of citicism, in their biblical pur-
suits, have given us the result of their labors in
systems of religion, which have nothing to sanc-
tify or elevate the affections ; nothing to hush
the clamors of conscience; nothing to illumine
the cheerlessness of affliction, or the desolation of
the grave. As the gospel is designed to furnish

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 195

the means of restoration and salvation to ruined
man, I am persuaded, if you examine it with a
teachable temper, that you will find its cardinal
doctrines to be, atonement by the blood, and sanc-
tification by the Spirit of a Divine Saviour. All
the other truths which it reveals, you will find to
be in perfect consistencj' with these fundamental
ones ; making in their combination a system which,
while it brings glory to God in the highest, secures
to the repenting sinner all, and more than all the
blessings which sin has forfeited.

But if the result of your examination should be
a conviction, that the system to which I have ad-
verted is that which the gospel reveals. )'ou will
find that the world abounds with other systems,
some of which have scarcely any thing in common
with that which you adopt. There is one system
which exhibits the gospel as only the religion of
nature in a more attractive dress ; which pours
contempt upon the impressions of the awakened
sinner, and blots out the precious doctrine of
atonement, and cuts off the only hope of forgive-
ness, and leaves the mind to wander over a dark,
blank waste, collecting as it wanders nothing but
impressions of despair. There is another system
which perverts the doctrine of redemption, by re-
presenting the sacrifice of Christ as cancelling the
obligations of holy obedience ; substituting for that

196 LETTERS TO

living faith which purifies the heart, and controls
the life, the naked impression that Christ died
for us in particular. And there is another system
still, which completely neutralizes the most awful
sanctions of our religion ; which represents all its
terrors as a fable, and throws wide open the doors
of heaven to all the impenitent and unholy. And
yet after all, each of these systems professes to
bear the impress of divinity, to be the true and
genuine gospel ; and their respective advocates ex-
pect you to hail them as fellow disciples of a com-
mon Master. To assist you to a proper decision
on this subject, let me request your attention to the
following hints.

Make it a rule never to withhold your charity
on any slight or equivocal evidence. To declare
your conviction that a person holds another gospel,
is a thing of too much moment to be hazarded on
any grounds which are not the most satisfactory.
Better far to err on the extreme of forbearance
than intolerance. Mild measures are much better
fitted to exert a reclaiming influence than severe
ones. A little severity may place a religious
errorist forever beyond your reach ; whereas, a
condescending treatment of him may be the means
of dissipating his errors, and establishing him in
the truth.

Moreover, I would advise you never to impute

A DAUGHTER. 197

to others doctrines which they disavow, because
they may appear to you to form an essential part
of their general system. Cheerfully give them
credit for every truth they will acknowledge ; and
be very slow to decide that the connexion between
a fundamental doctrine, and one which is not so,
is so close, that the latter may not be given up,
while the former is with some degree of consist-
ency retained. The system of religious truth is
indeed perfectly harmonious ; but its parts are not
all equally important. It is a structure from
which you may remove some remote appendage,
and you will only injure its proportion, or deface
its beauty ; but take away one of its main pillars,
and the whole fabric tumbles to ruins.

Set it down as a principle, therefore, that all
minor differences in religious opinion are to be
treated with candor and lenity. It is a reproach
to the Christian cause, that the jealousy and intol-
erance of its professed advocates have erected so
many walls of partition to exclude each other from
the affectionate interchange of Christian offices ;
and it is a fact upon which my eye now fastens,
as the day star of millenial glory, that the little
strifes and jealousies which have prevailed among
different denominations, to the distraction of the
church, are beginning to lose themselves in a
growing attachment to the common cause. It is

19S LETTERS TO

our duty indeed to endeavor to reclaim the wan-
dering from every species 'of error; but the boun-
dary of our Christian charity must be nothing-
less than that sacred line which encircles the
fundamental doctrines of the gospel. If we de-
liberately exclude from Christian fellowship those
who hold the grand peculiarities of our faith, we
do it at the peril of rejecting those whom God has
accepted.

But while I make all these concessions in favor
of Catholicism, far be it from me to leave an im-
pression on your mind, that it were safe to receive
to the hallowed embrace of Christian charity,
those who reject any of the fundamental truths of
religion. With Christian forbearance in respect
to doctrines that are not fundamental, you must
combine Christian independence with respect to
those that are; and every Christian ought to
shrink from any act which implies indifference to
the great foundation of the gospel scheme, as he
would shrink from the guilt of betraying his
Master with a kiss. The only consistent course
for those who build their hopes of heaven upon
the great truths of the Bible — the only course
which their own principles will justify — is to take
their stand by the cardinal doctrines of the gospel ;
and whoever may lift the standard of persecution,
or whoever may chant the praises of liberality,

A DAUGHTER. 199

to guard these truths with the most sacred vigi-
lance. You may as well think to blend the
darkest shades of midnight with the blaze of the
noon-day sun, without dissipating the gloom of
the one, or softening the radiance of the other, as
to attempt a compromise between systems of reli-
gion, one of which admits, and the other rejects
the great doctrine of redemption, by the atoning
blood and life-giving spirit of Christ.

But notwithstanding you are to be decided in
your treatment of fundamental error, you should
be on your guard, even in respect to this, against
every approach to a bitter and censorious spirit.
It is not the spirit which will recommend your
religious views to others, or which can furnish to
yourself any evidence of their correctness from
their practical tendency. Besides, as I have
already intimated, no person was ever reclaimed
from error by being insulted or reproached ; but
not a few have, by such a course, been steeled
against conviction and driven to the extreme of
heresy. The person whom you may not be able
to recognise as a Christian, you may still treat
with the kindness and courtesy of a friend : you
may mingle with him in the kind offices and
charities of life : you may cautiously avoid
reproaching him with his errors : you may go,
like an angel of mercy, to his sick bed ; and you

200 LETTERS TO

may keep him constantly under the influence of
your gentle and winning deportment ; and who
knows but that, in this way, you may save a soul
from death and hide a multitude of sins ?

I will only detain you farther on this subject
with one word relative to religious controversy.
I do not care how much theological knowledge
you acquire, and I will not say that circumstances
may never occur, in which it may be proper for
you to use it in defence of the truths of the gospel ;
but I beg that nothing may ever tempt you need-
lessly to enlist in any religious dispute. When a
woman takes up the weapons of theological war-
fare, unless at the imperative call of duty, the
native loveliness of female character is instantly
eclipsed. The modest and retiring virtues, which
are the peculiar ornament of your sex, can never
find a place amidst the din and clashing of reli-
gious combatants. It was my lot, not long since,
to encounter a sturdy female polemic in a stage
coach ; and I must confess that, after a little while,
she succeeded in driving me effectually from the
field ; not because I was apprehensive of being
crushed by the weight of her arguments, but
because, when I came to reflect, it cost me less
mortification to yield to her the honor of an appa-
rent triumph, than to keep the attitude which I
had incautiously taken of discussing the most

A DAUGHTER. 201

' momentous of all subjects, in such circumstances,
with a talking female, whose element was con-
troversy. I confidently trust that the time will
never come, when the cause of truth will require
the polemic influence of females ; and until that
time, I hope you will be contented to leave the
business of controversy in other hands.

I have dwelt thus minutely on the several points
involved in the subject of this letter, not from a
conviction that they would all be of the same im-
portance to you as they might be to a minister
of the gospel, but because I wish you, on every
subject connected with practical life, to have some
fixed principles, which will always be ready for
application.

That you may combine that charity which
" sufTereth long and is kind," with that dignified
Christian independence, which " holds fast the
form of sound words," is the earnest wish of

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XV.

PRACTICAL RELIGION.

My Dear Child, — In a preceding letter I have
endeavored to impress you with the importance of
correct views of the great truths of religion.
Such views unquestionably lie at the foundation
of every right exercise of the affections, and of
whatever is truly good in the life. Nevertheless,
correct opinions are in themselves of comparatively
little importance, unless they are suffered to exert
their legitimate influence in forming and elevating
the character. You may have " all knowledge
and ail faith ;" you may be unwavering in your
conviction of the truth, and even he able to con-
found gainsayers, and yet if in all this there be
nothing that reaches the heart and influences the
c nduct, your character in the eye of God is but
little removed from that of an unbeliever. You
may indeed pass for a Christian with the world,
or at least with the undiscerning part of it, and
possibly you may imagine yourself one ; but the
hour of affliction, and the hour of death, and

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 203

above all the light of eternity, which will put
your Christianity to the test, will prove it to be a
mere name ; — an inefficient speculation, not a
practical and sustaining principle.

I have said that practical religion has its begin-
ning in the understanding. Religious truth being
apprehended by the mind, spreads its influence
over the affections, and through them that influ-
ence is carried out into every department of action.
There is no mystery in all this ; — no departure
from the common operation of the principles of
human nature : on the contrary, it is conformed
to all the analogies of experience. You believe
that a beloved friend is wandering unconsciously
on the verge of a precipice, and liable every
moment to an irrecoverable and fatal plunge.
This conviction operates irresistibly upon your
affections, stirring up in your bosom the deepest
compassion and anxiety. And these same feelings
which cause your heart to throb on account of the
danger of your friend, will lead you to rush
toward the fearful precipice, and admonish your
friend of her perilous circumstances ; and if need
be, even to lay hold of her, and rescue her from
destruction. Now this is a fair illustration of
what I mean by practical religion. You read in
the Bible, and your own conscience certifies you
of the fact, that you are a sinner ; and you read

204 LETTERS TO

that God has given his Son to die for your redemp-
tion ; and that in virtue of that redemption the
horrors of hell maybe escaped, and the glories of
heaven attained. These truths you intelligently
believe ; and the first effect of this belief is upon
the affections — to induce humility, and penitence,
and gratitude ; and these cannot remain dormant,
but must have their operation in the life, in pro-
ducing obedience to all God's commandments. I
ask again, is any thing more simnle. more intelli-
gible, more rational than this ? And yet this is
practical religion — the Christianity, not of the
understanding only, but especially of the heart
and life.

It is important here to remark, that it belongs
to genuine practical religion to control alike the
affections and the external conduct. There are
those who will have it that to be religious is
merely to be susceptible of a warm glow of feel-
ing ; to be able to weep profusely under the solemn
and affecting truths of the gospel, and to talk with
fervor and sensibility of the progress or the decline
of religion around them ; while the every day
duties of the Christian life, which require action
as well as feeling, are unhappily regarded as not
among the weightier matters of the law. And
there are those, on the other hand, who seem will-
ing to have their hands put in requisition, while

A DAUGHTER. 205

yet they practically claim a dispensation for the
heart ; who cheerfully perform every deed of jus-
tice and charity which devolves upon them in
their intercourse with their fellow men, and are
even models of external morality, who neverthe-
less seem to regard repentance, and faith, and
devotion, as works of supererogation — at least as
not being essential to the religious character.
Now both these classes are equally in a mistake.
Practical religion does not assert its claims exclu-
sively either over the heart or the life ; but alike
over both. The truths which you believe must
exert their influence in the production of holy
affections; and those affections must exert their
influence in leading to a holy life. If you make
your religion consist merely in feeling, or merely
in action, it is at best a partial religion, and will
never answer the great purpose of your acceptance
with God.

It is a consideration not to be overlooked in
connexion with this subject, that practical religion
never exists independently of the operation of the
Holy Spirit. Such is the natural perverseness of
the heart, that it never yields up its rebellion, and
becomes transformed into the divine likeness,
until it is wrought upon by the almighty agency
of God. But this agency, let it always be remem-
bered, is of such a character as not to supersede

206 LETTERS TO

but to involve the exercise of the human faculties.
Notwithstanding it is sovereign in its nature, (for
the very idea of salvation by grace implies sove-
reignty,) it is in perfect accordance with all the
laws of moral action ; so that the sinner actually
makes his very highest efforts precisely at the
time when he is the subject of the most powerful
divine agency. The moral actions he performs
at the period of his transformation into the divine
image, are as truly his own, as if he were in
every sense an independent agent ; and yet God
works as really, though not in the same manner,
as he did in the original creation. This is the
uniform doctrine of scripture ; and perhaps there
is no single passage in which it is more clearly
contained, than that in which the apostle exhorts
the Christians, to whom he was writing, to work
out their own salvation with fear and trembling,
giving it as a reason that it was God who worked
within them, both to will and to do, of his good
pleasure.

But you will ask, perhaps, whether there is not
here something of mystery ; and will inquire for
an explanation of this coincidence between the
agency of the Creator and the agency of the crea-
ture, in the production of this wonderful result.
I answer unhesitatingly, that I know nothing on
this subject, and expect to know nothing in this

A DAUGHTER. 207

world beyond the simple fact. That it is so is
amply proved, not only by scripture but experi-
ence ; but how it is so is a problem which, to say
the least, must be reserved to exercise the facul-
ties in a higher state of existence. To reject a
fact of which we have all the evidence of which
it is susceptible, merely because we cannot explain
every thing that is connected with it, were cer-
tainly the height of infatuation. Upon this prin-
ciple we should resign ourselves to a universal
skepticism; for what object is there in nature,
which, when subjected to a rigid examination, does
not present mysteries, before which the highest
human reason must own itself confounded.

Practical religion is begun and sustained through
the influence of the truth — the doctrines and pre-
cepts of the Bible. Whether they are contem-
plated in the closet, or listened to from the pulpit,
the Holy Spirit uses them as the great means of
cherishing good affections, and of giving a right
direction to the conduct. The dispensations of
Providence also, by being intelligently and seri-
ously contemplated, are rendered subservient to
the same end. Whether the heart be lacerated
by affliction, or whether permitted to rejoice in
prosperity, it is the purpose of God, in either case,
to add stability and vigor to the principle of re-
ligion. And if this result be not realized from the

208 LETTERS TO

means of grace and the dispensations of Provi-
dence, it were in vain to expect that it should be
realized at all.

It is an interesting attribute of practical religion,
that it retains a perfect identity of character in
every variety of circumstances. I do not mean
that it confounds all the distinctions of society ;
for such God never intended should be its effect ;
but it does, in the most important sense, lay a
foundation for a community of interest and feel-
ing. It conforms the human character every
where to the same standard. Every where, it is
accompanied by the same joys and sorrows, the
same fears, and hopes, and aspirations. You may
bring together • persons from the most opposite
walks of society, and if you please from opposite
sides of the globe ; persons whose feelings and
habits on other subjects have little or nothing in
common, and let each of them have a principle of
genuine religion, and if they speak the same lan-
guage, they will recognize each other as brethren,
and they will be able to report a common experi-
ence, and the same spirit of love to Christ, and
love to each other, and love to their fellow men,
will glow in the bosom of each, and they will be
looking forward alike to heaven as their final home.
The most cultivated mind, and the most unculti-
vated, may be brought together, and supposing

A DAUGHTER. 209

both to be deeply imbued with genuine religion,
they will feel at home in each other's society:
there will be one point, though there be only one,
at which they can meet on the same level, and
hold intelligent and delightful communion.

It is another attribute of practical religion, that
it is enduring. Who does not know how fugitive
and uncertain are the possessions of the world ; —
how riches take to themselves wings and fly
away ; — how the voice of human applause is often
changed, almost in an instant, into the voice of
execration; — how pleasure turns into pain in the
very moment of enjoyment ; — how even natural
affection itself will grow cold and shy, and finally
give place to deep rooted enmity and bitter resent-
ment. But not so with religion. Let the change
of external circumstances be what it may, let the
fate of other possessions be as it will, this is sure
to remain through every vicissitude. A principle
of religion, once implanted in the heart, can never
be eradicated, and can never cease to exert its
influence. It will live in every clime; it will
survive every calamity ; and it will brighten into
a higher and holier perfection in better worlds.

But not only is practical religion something that

will endure, but something which, even here, is

destined to increase. The principle when first

implanted in the heart is indeed feeble in its opera-

14

210 LETTERS TO

tions ; and if we were to form our opinion without
the aid of experience, and without recourse to the
divine testimony, we should decide unhesitatingly
that there was little reason to expect that this
principle could ever reach a full and strong ma-
turity. But it is the ordinance of God that it
should be so; and the truth is illustrated and con-
firmed by every Christian's experience. There
may indeed be seasons of occasional declension,
and there may be seasons of so much darkness as
to create the most painful apprehension that the
heart has never yet practically recognized the
claims of religion ; nevertheless, on the whole,
there is a constant progress in the Christian's ex-
perience ; though his steps may be feeble and
faltering, he is still gradually rising towards per-
fection; — gradually gaining new victories over
indwelling corruption ; enlarging the sphere of
his benevolent activity ; and coming nearer and
nearer the standard of perfect holiness. It is said
by an inspired writer, with equal truth and beauty,
that " the path of the just is as the shining light,
shining more and more unto the perfect day."

There are two distinct views in which we may
regard practical religion, as it stands connected
with the trials of life ; as triumphing over them,
and vet as being advanced and strengthened by
them. When you talk of human suffering, there

A DAUGHTER. 211

is a chord in every bosom that vibrates in a
response to the truth of what you say. The trials
of mankind are indeed almost infinitely diversi-
fied ; there are scarcely two individuals whose
cup of sorrow is composed of precisely the same
ingredients ; but there is not a solitary individual
whose personal experience does not furnish ample
testimony that this world is a vale of tears. There
are those, it may be, who, to the surrounding-
world, always bear a cheerful aspect, and who
might almost leave an impression, by the uniform
gladness of the countenance, that the sorrows of
life had i;ever invaded their hearts. But if you
could know all that passes within — if you could,
even for a single week, have access to every
secret thought and feeling, you would no doubt
find that, though the countenance seemed always
to beam with joy, yet the heart was often over-
burdened with sadness. There are comparatively
few who do not, at some time or other, become
the objects of sympathy from being openly buffeted
by the storms of adversity ; but there are few too
who do not experience trials, and sometimes those
which bring into the heart the keenest anguish —
of which the world knows nothing. Now I say
with confidence, that practical religion confers
upon its possessor a glorious triumph amidst the
sorrows of life. Suppose poverty come with its

212 LETTERSTO

train ; of calamities or suppose detraction point
its barbed arrows against a blameless character;
or suppose bereavement cast a withering shade
upon the best earthly hopes and joys; or suppose
disease, which mocks the highest efforts both of
friendship and of skill, impress itself upon the
countenance and make its lodgement in the very
seat of life ; or suppose, if you please, that this
whole tribe of evils come marching in fearful ar-
ray to assail an individual at once, I am sure that
I do not say too much for practical religion, when
I declare to you that it will enable its possessor to
meet them all in serenity and triumph. To do
this must require a high effort of faith, I acknow-
ledge ; but. only such an effort as has been exem-
plified in the experience of thousands. Oh ! when
I have stood amidst such scenes, and witnessed
the sweet aspirations of hope, and seen the bright
beams of joy irradiate the countenance over which
sorrow had thrown her deepest shades, just as the
bow casts its brilliant hues upon the dark cloud in
the going down of the sun, I have looked upon reli-
gion as a bright angel come down from heaven to
exercise a sovereign influence over human calam-
ity : and if I have formed a wish or offered a
prayer in respect to you at such a moment, it has
been that this good angel may be your constant
attendant through this vale of tears.

A DAUGHTER. 213

But while there is an energy in religion to sus-
tain the soul amidst the calamities of life, this en-
ergy, instead of being lessened, is increased by the
influence of these calamities. Let religion emerge
from a scene in which she has kept some child of
distress from sinking in the deep waters, or in
which she has bound up some heart that has been
smitten by the rod of God, and you shall see her
more healthful and vigorous for having performed
these offices of mercy. In other words, nothing
is so well adapted to purify and brighten the
Christian graces as the furnace of affliction. And
hence we look for the noblest specimens of Chris-
tian attainment, not among those who have been
always surrounded with the sunshine of pros-
perity, but among those who have had to struggle
hard with the calamities of the world. Not every
one, not even every Christian, whose lot is pecu-
liarly marked by adversity, experiences, at least
in the degree which he might, the benign effects
of which I have spoken ; but the reason is that he
does not receive his afflictions with a right spirit :
every Christian who is severely tried, may and
ought to be the better for it ; and if he is not so, I
do not say that he may not be saved, but let him
take heed lest it should be so as by fire.

I have spoken of the triumph of religion in
affliction ; but she triumphs still more gloriously

214 LETTERS TO

in death. Yes, in that hour, when the clustering
symptoms of dissolution proclaim that all is over ;
when friends sit down and weep in silence, be-
cause they have done every thing, and yet the be-
loved object must die; when there is nothing now
thought of, either by the dying or the mourning,
but the winding sheet, and the grave, and the re-
gion that lies beyond it ; I say in that hour, dark,
and portentous, and terrible as it seems, Religion
still triumphs. You may trace her footsteps amid
that scene of desolation in expressions of hope, and
peace and joy, and not unfrequently in the serene
and seraphic smile which she has left upon the
countenance, after she has ascended with the spirit
to a brighter world. Infidelity may be brave in
life, but she is a coward in death. True religion
is never more courageous, than when she is acting
as a guide in the dark valley ; when with one
hand she opens the door of the sepulchre, as a safe
though temporary resting place for the body, and
with the other, the gate of the heavenly city, as
the everlasting residence of the soul.

There is still more to be said for religion — for
her noblest triumph is in eternity. In the religion
of the heart and life, as it exists here, there is the
germ of that exceeding and eternal weight of
glory, which is to be the Christian's portion here-
after. Let no one talk of the brilliancy of an

A DAUGHTER. 215

earthly crown, when compared with the immortal
splendors of a crown of life. Let no one value
earthly treasures, when compared with the incor-
ruptible treasures which Religion secures at God's
right hand. Let no one set a high estimate upon
the intercourse of earthly friendship, when viewed
in comparison with an everlasting communion
with the spirits of the just made perfect, and with
the angels that burn before the throne, and even
with the infinitely perfect and redeeming God.
When we speak of the joys of heaven, we speak
of that, the full extent of which it hath not entered
the heart of man to conceive. It is in that world
that religion will sit enthroned, in the majesty
of a benign and perpetual triumph.

I have rarely seen the legitimate operations of
true religion in forming the character so sublimely
exemplified, as in the case of a reverend friend,
whom not many years ago, I followed to the
grave. He was a man upon whom nature had
bountifully bestowed her choicest gifts, and who
combined every intellectual and moral quality
which was necessary to stamp upon his character
the seal of greatness. But above all, he was a
practical Christian. I knew him when his locks
were silvered with years, and his eyes were dim
with age, and his limbs tottered beneath their bur-
den. On his furrowed cheek sat the smile of con-

216 LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER.

tentment, the living image of peace and joy. He
could hardly open his lips but in some expression
of penitence for his sins, or of thankfulness for his
mercies. While he was cheerful in the enjoyment
of temporal blessings, the eye of faith and hope
was fixed on heaven. I saw him when the im-
pressions of disease had fastened upon his counte-
nance ; when the symptoms of dissolution were
advancing in slow but certain progress, and when
eternity was opening its doors to receive his almost
disenthralled spirit. I watched him to see if I
could discover a symptom of terror or agitation,
any thing like the shrinking back of the soul from
the grasp of death: but all was calmness and
triumph. Just as he had reached the boundary
between earth and heaven, I said, "My father, art
thou dying in peace ?" and his animated expres-
sion told me that the songs of seraphs were
already trembling on his ear. His dying eye
shot forth a beam of rapture, and told in language
more than mortal, the vigor of a spirit on the
wing for immortality. Never before did I behold
Christianity march with so much triumph into the
territories of death. The scene is imprinted upon
my memory, and I would fain carry the impres-
sion of it to the grave.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XVI.

SELF KNOWLEDGE.

My Dear Child, — I have already endeavored
to inculcate upon you the importance of your
becoming a proficient in various branches of use-
ful knowledge. There is, however, one branch
of which I have hitherto said nothing, which is
incomparably more important to you than all hu-
man science — I mean the knowledge of yourself.
To this deeply interesting subject suffer me now,
in a few brief hints, to direct your attention.

In self knowledge I include, in the first place, a
knowledge of your intellectual powers. It implies
that you understand the particular bent of your
own mind ; in which of the faculties, if any, you
are especially deficient, and in which of them, if
any, you are particularly gifted ; whether there is
a good degree of harmony naturally pervading
the powers of your mind, or whether there is rea-
son for special effort to give to those powers their
due balance. It implies also that you understand
for what department of mental action your consti-

218 LETTERS TO

tution is best adapted, and in what field your
efforts will be most likely to be successful.

In the knowledge of which I am speaking there
is also included an acquaintance with your moral
dispositions. There is perhaps as great a variety
of temper among mankind, as of countenance ;
there being scarcely two individuals whose natural
feelings, when subjected to a rigid analysis, are
not found to be, in some respects, different. These
original qualities constitute, in a great degree, the
germ of the character ; and in most instances,
whatever good or evil is accomplished, whatever
happiness or misery is experienced, no doubt is to
be traced, either directly or indirectly, to the lead-
ing tendencies of our nature. With these tenden-
cies, as it respects yourself, you should be familiarly
acquainted : you should know what evil disposi-
tions you are most prone to indulge ; at what
point you are most susceptible of being success-
fully assailed by temptation ; and at what point
you are capable of encountering temptation with
the best hope of success.

In self knowledge is farther implied a know-
ledge of your conduct. It would seem at first
view that every individual must know this as it
respects himself, whether he desires it or not ; but
the real fact is, that there is much in the conduct
of most persons, of which, though it be perfectly

A DAUGHTER. 219

open to the world, they contrive to keep them-
selves in ignorance. Not that they are uncon-
scious of their actions as they perform them ; but
they suffer them to pass out of remembrance, and
never make them a subject of deliberate review,
and still less do they think of connecting them
with each other with a view to ascertain the habit
of their life. If you would know yourself, you
must be familiar with the tenor of your conduct
from day to day ; — of your conduct in all the cir-
cumstances in which you are placed, and in all
the relations which you sustain. Whether it be
such as conscience approves or condemns, it must
not be suffered to escape your observation, or to
slide prematurely out of your remembrance.

You must know your motives also — the prin-
ciples by which your conduct is governed. Not
only the general habit of feeling, but the particu-
lar motives which prompt to particular actions,
should be well understood ; for it is possible, that
many an action, which with the world passes for
a splendid deed of benevolence, may, with Him
who inspects the motive, be nothing better than
an act of gross hypocrisy ; and on the other hand,
that actions which to the world bear a suspicious
character, may, to the Searcher of the heart, ap-
pear praiseworthy and excellent. In short, every
action derives its moral character, not from the

220 LETTERS TO

external form which it may happen to assume,
but from the motive by which it is dictated. If
you are ignorant of the motive then,' your igno-
rance is radical. If you do not know this, you
probably know less of yourself than those who
have an opportunity of inspecting only your
external conduct.

It is necessary, further, that you should under-
stand your true character as a sinner before God ;
though this may be considered as in some sense
implied in the knowledge of your external conduct
in connexion with the motives in which it origin-
ates. The knowledge of sin — of one's personal
sins — of their extent and aggravation, is obtained
only by a practical view of the law of God and of
the atonement of Christ ; and until this is gained,
every other species even of self knowledge, will be
to little purpose in the concern of our salvation.
This is a point at which, alas ! the great mass of
mankind are contented to end their inquiries.
They are not willing to look far enough to ascer-
tain whether the scriptural doctrine of depravity
is true in their own experience or not ; and hence
they remain voluntarily and fearfully ignorant
both of their guilt and danger.

You must know, moreover, as a disciple of
Christ, what are the sins which most easily beset
you ; in what way you are most likely to bring a

A DAUGHTER. 221

reproach upon the Redeemer's cause ; what means
you can use with the best effect, to increase your
spiritual sensibility, your zeal, and self denial, and
steadfastness in religion. You must know your
daily spiritual wants ; the various exigencies for
which you need God's special grace, and the vari-
ous channels through which light, and hope, and
joy, may be imparted. You must know how to
bring home to your heart the precious promises of
the gospel, adapting them to different circum-
stances, and finding in each of them a means of
sustaining you in adversity, of quickening you in
duty, or of protecting you from the shafts of temp-
tation. You must know the various duties which
devolve upon you in the different relations of life ;
duties which you owe both to God and man ; and
the momentous considerations by which these
duties are enforced. In a word, whatever relates
to your character as an intellectual, moral, or im-
mortal being, you ought distinctly to understand ;
and the whole extent of this enters into the true
idea of self knowledge.

The importance of self knowledge may be evinc-
ed by a great variety of considerations. That
branch of it which consists in the knowledge of
our sins is an essential requisite to our accept-
ance with God ; for as mankind are saved wholly
by grace, they must feel the reasonableness of the

222 LETTERS TO

terms before they will accept them ; and this they
can never do until they are thoroughly convinced
of their own depravity. No doubt most of those
great errors which sap the foundation of the gos-
pel, originate in the want of self knowledge. Men,
from ignorance of their own hearts, and conse-
quent ignorance of their own wants, devise
schemes of religion which overlook the necessity
of an atonement, or the necessity of a divine in-
fluence ; and leave man in the pride of self confi-
dence to work his own way to heaven, with little
or nothing of divine interposition. Hence we find
that whenever any of these refuges of lies are
abandoned, the first step in the process is usually
a change of views in respect to the human charac-
ter ; and the same fact takes place previous to eve-
ry genuine conversion. It is the conviction of guilt
and danger that leads to the first efforts to escape
from the wrath to come.

But self knowledge is important not only as it
is connected with the beginning, but the progress,
of religion in the heart. It is essential to keeping-
alive the various Christian graces. It is one of
the primary elements of humility ; for it is impos-
sible that the Christian should be deeply conver-
sant with his own corruptions, without being abased
before God in view of them. It is fitted to cherish
a spirit of dependence ; for he who knows his

A DAUGHTER. 223

own weakness will feel the need of being strength-
ened from on high ; and he who knows the
wanderings of his own heart will regard it a
blessed privilege to yield himself up to an all-wise
and all-gracious Guide. It has a tendency to bring
into exercise a spirit of gratitude ; for he who
knows himself, knows that it is matchless grace
that triumphs over the rebellion of the heart. It
serves to awaken and keep alive a spirit of com-
passion towards those who are indifferent to reli-
gion ; for he who has seen his own heart in the
glass of God's law, and has seen the sentence of
his own condemnation staring him in the face,
must have a deep sympathy for others still in the
same circumstances of jeopardy. And finally, it
leads to a spirit of forbearance towards others ; a
disposition to be charitable in the judgments we
form of them ; and especially to avoid all needless
exposure of their failings ; for who that knows his
own infirmities and corruptions, can find it in his
heart to pass sentence on the character of others,
as if he were not himself, in some sense, under
the same condemnation ?

There is yet another influence which self
knowledge exerts in aiding t}ie growth of the
religion of the heart — it secures the Christian, in
a great degree, against the power of temptation.
He who understands well his own character, who

224 LETTERS TO

knows what sins most easily beset him, and what
temptations are most likely to overcome him, will
not needlessly rush into circumstances in which
lie will be peculiarly exposed to fall ; or if he
goes into scenes of danger at the unquestionable
call of duty, he will go fully apprised of the dan-
ger, and girded for a conflict with the enemies
which may assail him. The great reason wh: so
many professed disciples of Christ fall into
grievous temptation, and make work for bitter
repentance, is, that they are deficient in self know-
ledge. This was true of Peter, and it has been
true of thousands of others, who have made
shipwreck of their good resolutions, and have
finally been reclaimed by a course of the severest
discipline.

Self knowledge has much to do in promoting
the Christian's usefulness. That it must be so is
evident from the remarks already made ; for piety
is in its very nature active, and prompts to a
course of benevolent exertion : hence if self know-
ledge ministers to the growth of piety, it cannot
fail to minister to increasing usefulness. It will
always be found that just in proportion as the
Christian's heart becomes a dwelling place of good
affections, — as a spirit of gratitude, of humility,
and of dependence on God increases, he will show
himself ready to every good word and work.

A DAUGHTER. 225

But it is the tendency of self knowledge to pro-
mote the Christian's usefulness still further, as it
assists him to select a proper field for his activity.
If an individual happens to get into a sphere for
which he is particularly disqualified, let his inten-
tions be as good as they may, and let his activity
be ever so great, it is not improbable that greater
injury than benefit will result from his exertions ;
whereas the same amount of effort, in a field for
which Providence had fitted him, might exert a
blessed influence on many successive generations.
Self knowledge is the grand security against mis-
taking in this matter. Tf you know well the
peculiarities of your own mind and temperament,
the weak as well as the strong points in your cha-
racter, you will be in little danger of engaging in
enterprises for which God never designed you ;
and on the other hand, you wTill be likely to em-
ploy your powers on the most suitable objects,
and with the best effect.

Self knowledge is fitted moreover to promote
the Christian's usefulness, as it imparts to him
stability of character. If you know little of your-
self, you will almost of course be liable to a sud-
den adoption of opinions respecting truth and
duty, and to an equally sudden abandonment of
them ; and this will produce a habit of instability
both of feeling and action, which will injure your
15

226 LETTERS TO

usefulness by weakening the confidence of others
in your judgment, and by rendering your efforts
feeble and inefficient. On the other hand, an
intimate acquaintance with your own heart, as
it will keep you from engaging in rash enterpri-
ses, will also make you resolute and stable in re-
spect to those in which you actually engage ; and
your facilities for doing good will be increased by
the favorable regard which this habit of stability
will secure to you from the surrounding communi-
ty. Is it not manifest, then, that self knowledge is
one of the best pledges for well directed activity
and usefulness ?

But how is this most desirable attainment to
be made ? It is within the reach of every indi-
vidual, and yet there is reason to fear that the
multitude remain strangers to it. The reason
is, that they shrink from the effort necessary
for knowing themselves on the one hand, and
dread the result of an examination on the other.

If you would know yourself, it is essential that
you should habitually and faithfully perform the
duty of self communion. You must not be con-
tented with looking merely at the external act,
but faithfully investigate the motives and princi-
ples of your conduct. You must compare your
actions, not with any human standard, but with the
rule of duty which God has revealed in his word.

A DAUGHTER. 227

You must let your examination be conducted with
great vigilance, with due deliberation, with un-
yielding resolution, and with entire impartiality.
You must examine the operations of your mind
and heart in different states of feeling, and in
every variety of circumstances ; and must com-
pare the result at one time with the result at
another ; that thus you may be able to ascertain
the general tenor of your thoughts and feelings.
A superficial and occasional inspection of your
heart will contribute little to your stock of self
knowledge, and may even expose you to fatal self
deception ; but an examination, conducted in the
manner which I have described, cannot fail in the
end to render you intimately acquainted with your-
self.

Judicious and free conversation with Christian
friends is another important means of acquiring
self knowledge. The truth is that we often by
our conduct exhibit feelings and traits of charac-
ter which we are not conscious of possessing ; and
thus put it in the power of our friends to reveal to
us the secrets of our own hearts. And though
this is a matter upon which we ought not to con-
verse too indiscriminately, yet it may very safely
and properly become a subject of conversation
with those in whom we repose special confi-
dence ; and they may be of immense advantage

228 LETTERS TO

to us by giving us their honest impressions in
respect to that part of our conduct which falls un-
der their observation. Nay, we may often learn
important lessons in respect to ourselves by watch-
ing the conduct of others towards us ; for it is
more than probable, if they know us intimately,
that they judge correctly respecting our character,
and their treatment of us will almost certainly re-
veal their true opinion. If, for instance, the care-
less world treat a professing Christian habitually
as if he were one of themselves, you may calcu-
late, with absolute assurance, that he has become
a backslider: and many a professor, no doubt, if
he would, might learn from the treatment which
he receives from the world, that he is beginning
to wander, while he has scarcely begun to suspect
it from observation upon his own conduct, or from
an examination of his own heart.

Reading the scriptures and prayer are among
the most important of all the means of self know-
ledge. The former, by exhibiting in the divine
law a perfect standard of duty, and by exhibiting
the character of man in every variety of condi-
tion and under every kind of influence, brings us
acquainted, more than all other books, with the
most secret springs of human action. The latter
secures God's blessing upon every other effort,
while it brings to our aid a direct divine illumi-

A DAUGHTER. 229

nation. Study the Bible then daily and diligently,
and pray without ceasing for the enlightening
influence of God's Spirit, and you will soon be a
proficient in self knowledge.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XVII.

SELF GOVERNMENT.

My Dear Child, — Perhaps there is nothing
in which religion displays a more heavenly tri-
umph, than in the power which she gives us of
controlling ourselves. The shock of the apostacy
has given to the moral principles of our nature a
wrong direction ; and all the power which reason
and conscience can exert, without the influence of
religion, is insufficient to subdu~ and control our
native propensities. Practical Christianity, how-
ever, is powerful enough to deliver us from this
unhappy thraldom. It is by her omnipotent and
all-pervading influence that the thoughts are
disciplined to flow in a proper channel, the pas-
sions and appetites subjected to the control of rea-
son, and the tongue bridled against sinful levity
and unhallowed reproach.

But inasmuch as religion regards you as a
rational and accountable being, she accomplishes
this redemption not by any magical or arbitrary

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 231

process, but by subjecting you to laws which
are altogether fitted to your moral nature. If
then you will escape from the dominion of unhal-
lowed thoughts and tempers, you must surrender
yourself to the practical influence of the gospel,
you must resolutely break away from the en-
chanted ground of temptation ; you must be daily
conversant with that Almighty Power, which
alone can arm you for a conflict with yourself;
you must learn to detect the deceitful and wander-
ing imagination, and station a vigilant sentinel at
every watch-tower of your heart. To think of
acquiring a habit of self government independently
of the influence of religion, were as wild as to
think of assuaging the elements by a word, when
they are wrought p to the ury of a tempest.

An important part of self government respects
the thoughts. It is a delusion into which we
easil fall, that if our external deportment is cor-
rect and exemplary, it matters little what are the
secret operations of the mind. The thoughts, be-
cause they are invisible, are regarded as being
scarcely within our control ; and no doubt many
a mind finds an apology for gross and habitual
wanderings, in a sort of indefinite conviction that
the imagination was made to have its own way
and therefore it is in vain to attempt to restrain it.
So long as the tongue is kept from giving utter-

232 LETTERS TO

ance to the evil thoughts which occupy the mind, it
is most unwarrantably concluded that they may
be indulged without injury. But the thoughts,
let it be remembered, are among the primary ele-
ments of moral action. If they are habitually
wrong, the feelings will be so also ; and the
thoughts and feelings together constitute, in the
view of God, the whole moral character. The
moment you yield to the conviction that no re-
straint is needed here, you resolve on a course
which must make you odious in the sight of Hea-
ven ; and nothing but the well sustained and un-
detected character of a hypocrite can save you
from being odious in the view of the world.

I acknowledge that the duty to which I am
urging you — that of exercising a suitable control
over your thoughts — is one of the most difficult to
which you can be called ; and it were in vain to
think of discharging it without severe effort. You
should endeavor habitually to realize that you are
as truly responsible to God for the indulgence of
a vain imagination, as you would be if every evil
thought that rises in your heart were embodied in
the form of a palpable action. You should guard-
against the beginning of such a habit ; for if it
were once firmly established, there is scarcely
any other habit which might not with less diffi-
culty be broken up ; for this reason especially that

A DAUGHTER. 233

this is invisible, and of course not to be affected
by any considerations drawn from external cir-
cumstances. You should guard against all those
scenes and occasions which may be likely to
throw you into the power of these invisible
tyrants, or to lead you, even in the smallest de-
gree, to relax your circumspection. You should
especially guard the senses ; for these are the
principal avenues through which, vain thoughts
find their way into the soul. But let the effort
necessary to this branch of self government be as
severe as it may, let nothing tempt you to neglect
it ; for you may rest assured that it constitutes, in
an important sense, the key stone to a virtuous
character.

But you must not only look well to the govern-
ment of the thoughts, but also of the passions and
affections. This especially is the department of
the soul in which motives operate, and where are
fixed all the springs of human accountableness.
It is indeed at the torch of the imagination that
the passions are usually kindled ; and this is a
reason why the imagination should be kept with
all diligence ; but the passions will never be held
in subjection, unless there be employed in refer-
ence to this object a great amount of direct effort.
So active and powerful are they that they will often
plead their own cause, not only eloquently but

234 LETTERS TO

successfully, against reason, conscience, and cha-
racter; and many an individual has sacrificed
at the shrine of passion, every thing dear on earth,
every thing glorious in eternity.

As there is a great variety in the human con-
stitution, the different passions will be found to
exist, in different individuals, with very unequal
degrees of strength ; insomuch that what consti-
tutes the ruling passion of one, may operate with
comparatively little strength in another. It be-
comes therefore a matter of no small moment to
each individual to apply the most active restraint
where it is most demanded; — not indeed to be
negligent in respect to any of the passions, but to
be specially armed for a conflict with those which
are the most formidable.

Guard against the improper indulgence of an-
ger. The evil of giving way to hasty and violent
resentments is always great, and sometimes irre-
trievable. You thereby deprive yourself for the
time of the power of regulating your own conduct,
while yet you must be responsible for all its con-
sequences ; for neither common sense nor con-
science, the law of God nor the law of man, ex-
cuses a bad action, because it has been performed
in a paroxysm of passion. You may, by a single
word, spoken at such a moment, leave a sting in
the heart of a friend, which no acts of subsequent

A DAUGHTER. 235

kindness may be able fully to extract ; — a friend
too, it may be, for whom, in an hour of reflection,
you would have done or suffered any thing. Or
you may needlessly subject yourself to the ridicule
and sneers of those who are below you ; of those
who are upon the look-out for your foibles, and
stand ready to make the most of them. Nay, you
may bring yourself into sad disrepute with all
around you, and may greatly cloud your worldly
prospects, and prepare for yourself a scene of mor-
tification and disgrace, which will last while you
live, and then be entailed upon your memory. In
short, if you exercise little or no self-control in this
respect, you can have no security for your comfort
— no security for your character.

If I were to prescribe one of the best remedies
for a hasty spirit, I should say, accustom yourself
to be silent under provocation. It is a maxim
with some that the best way of encountering insult
is to speak out whatever is in the heart, and thus
let an angry spirit exhaust itself in a torrent of
reproach. Precisely the opposite of this is the
course which I would recommend. If you begin
to talk while you are in a passion, the effect will
almost certainly be that your feelings will become
more and more excited ; for while there is a ten-
dency to such a result, in the very act of uttering
your feelings, you will be in danger of saying

236 LETTERS TO

things which will bring back upon you still
heavier provocation. If, on the contrary, when
you feel the first risings of resentment, you make
it a rule to pause and reflect on the evil conse-
quences of such a spirit, and on the guilt as well
as the folly of indulging it, you will probably have
occasion to pause but a moment before reason will
resume her dominion, and you can converse with
composure and dignity. And it is worthy of re-
mark, that while such a course will exert the hap-
piest influence upon yourself, it will, more than
any thing else, disarm others of a spirit of provo-
cation, and thus secure you from insults and inju-
ries. Mark it as often as you will, and you will
find that the individual who is most calm and pa-
tient in the reception of injuries, is the very one
who has the fewest injuries to endure.

In connexion with a spirit of anger, I may
mention a kindred passion — that of revenge ; for
experience proves that revenge sometimes deforms
and blackens even the female character. Anger
is most commonly the exercise of a rash and hasty
spirit ; and it often happens that, though it may
be followed by the most lasting evils, yet it passes
away in an hour or even in a moment. Revenge
is more thoughtful, more deliberate ; its purposes
are indeed usually conceived in anger ; but often
executed with coolness, and sometimes even in the

A DAUGHTER. 237

dark. Whatever injuries you may receive, never
allow yourself for a moment to meditate a purpose
of retaliation. You are not indeed required tamely
to surrender your rights to every one who may
choose wantonly to invade them ; for that would
be little less than to court -injuries ; but you are
never, under any circumstances of provocation, to
depart from the golden rule ; never to form a de-
sign, or even to harbor a wish, to return evil for
evil. Nothing is more noble than to be able to
forgive an injury, instead of inflicting injury again.
You remember that most beautiful and touching
instance in which the Saviour, in the action of
death, commended to the forgiveness of his Father,
his enemies and murderers. Who ever contem-
plated this incident in his life, without a deep im-
pression of reverence and moral sublimity ? Who
ever doubted that the imitation of such an exam-
ple would not confer true dignity of character ?

There is envy too — one of the meanest of all
the passions, and yet it too often gets a strong
lodgement in the breast. You mistake if you ima-
gine that this is confined chiefly to persons in the
lower walks of life ; it is, for aught I know, just as
common among the more elevated as the more
obscure ; and there is nothing in external circum-
stances that can prevent its operation. It is alike
offensive in the sisrht of God and of man. If the

238 LETTERS TO

object towards which it is exercised be wealth, or
splendor, or any thing connected with the pride
and circumstance of life, it is unreasonable, be-
cause nothing of all this is essential to human
happiness ; and if God in his providence places
these temporal possessions beyond our reach, we
ought to conclude that it is best that they should
be withheld from us. If the object be intellectual
strength or culture, this passion is unreasonable
still ; for it implies either a dissatisfaction with the
powers and opportunities which God has given
us, or else an unwillingness to use the exertion
necessary for making the best of them. And even
if the object be moral excellence, the unreasonable-
ness of indulging this feeling is not at all dimi-
nished ; for whatever is elevated in moral or
Christian character, every individual is command-
ed to attain ; and to each one God is ready to give
the necessary helps for doing so. And it is not
only an unreasonable but a malignant spirit. It
looks with an eye of hatred upon a brother, for no
other reason than because he is, or is supposed to
be, a special favorite of Providence. If this hate-
ful passion ever rises in your breast, banish it as
one of the worst enemies of your happiness, your
character, and your soul. Or, I would rather say,
cultivate such a habit of feeling as shall be an
effectual security against it. Think how many

A DAUGHTER. 239

reasons there are why you should delight in the
happiness of your fellow creatures ; and let those
considerations operate not only to keep you from
heing envious, but to make you grateful, when
those around you are in any way the special ob-
jects of the divine goodness.

The various appetites which have their seat in
the animal nature, ought also to be kept in rigid
subjection. These appetites were given us for
important purposes ; but who does not know that
in a multitude of instances, instead of accomplish-
ing the end for which they were designed, they
actually become the ministers of death? Many,
even of your own sex, and those too, the circum-
stances of whose birth and education might have
been expected most effectually to shield them from
such a calamity, have resigned themselves to a
habit of intemperance, and have ultimately sunk
to the lowest point of degradation. Once they
would have been startled with horror bv the
thought of their present condition ; but the almost
imperceptible indulgence with which they began,
gradually increased, till they plunged into gross
dissipation, and exiled themselves not only from
decent society, but from the affections of their
own kindred. What young female can contem-
plate examples like these, and quietly repose in

240 LETTERS TO

the conviction that she is beyond the reach of
danger ?

I must not omit to speak here of the govern-
ment of the tongue ; though much of what appro-
priately belongs to this branch of the subject has
been anticipated in a preceding letter. If your
thoughts, and passions, and appetites, are kept in
due subjection, the proper regulation of the tongue
will be a matter of course; for " out of the abun-
dance of the heart the mouth speaketh." There
is the deceitful tongue, which deals in misrepre-
sentation and falsehood. There is the loquacious
tongue, that monopolizes the conversation of
every circle, and tires by its perpetual garrulity.
There is the vulgar tongue, that throws out inde-
cent allusions, and finds its element in grovelling
subjects. There is the inflamed tongue, that bu-
sies itself in the propagation of scandal, and loves
to array friends against each other, and keep neigh-
borhoods in commotion ; and there is the flattering
tongue, which would pour into your ears the sweet-
est strains of applause, and would make you think
that you are too good for this world, and are as
lovely and beautiful as an angel. Take heed that
your tongue is never prostituted to any of these
unworthy purposes. And recollect that while the
thoughts, and passions, and appetites, control the
movements of the tongue, the tongue in its turn

A DAUGHTER. 241

exerts an influence upon them either for good or
evil. If you cherish an habitual impression of
the presence of God, and in all that you say en-
deavor to keep yourself subject to the dictates
of an enlightened and wakeful conscience, your
tongue will indeed be the glory of your frame, and
a source of blessing to yourself and others ; but if
not, take heed lest it should prove a world of ini-
quity, and should be the instrument of bringing
upon you a fearfully aggravated condemnation.

In respect to the importance of self government,
I surely need not enlarge. You cannot fail to
perceive that it is essential to all true dignity of
character, and to all that enjoyment which is
worthy of your rational and immortal nature.
Without it you may imagine yourself free, but
you are really in the most degrading vassalage.
Without it, you may consider yourself respectable,
but all virtuous beings will regard your character
with pity and abhorrence. With it, you will rise
up to the true dignity of a rational being, and act
in consistency with your immortal hopes.

Your Ever Affectionate Father.

16

LETTER XVIII.

HUMILITY.

My Dear Child, — It is one of the most dis=
tinguisliing and lovely features of Christianity,
that it not only inculcates, but actually produces
and cherishes, the grace of humility. So remote
is this from the spirit of paganism, even in its
least exceptionable forms, that the language of the
nation more enlightened than any other at the
time of the advent of Christ, did not supply a
word expressive of what we mean by humility.
It belongs to the gospel to have made the dis-
covery that there is a species of self-abasement
which, while it is befitting our character as
sinners, is intimately connected with the highest
moral dignity.

There is, however, much that passes more or
less current in the world for humility, which does
not deserve the name ; and in respect to this, as
of all the other graces of the Christian, it is im-
portant that you should be able to detect its coun-
terfeits. There is, for instance, an abject spirit,

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 243

which is grovelling in its nature, and finds its
appropriate element amidst a corresponding set of
objects; whereas true humility lifts the soul from
the dust, and brings it in contact with some of the
most glorious objects in the universe. There is
also a desponding spirit, which lives upon doubts
and anxieties in respect to personal religious expe-
rience, and turns away from the promises as if
they were made only for those who could appro-
priate them with absolute assurance : this cannot
be genuine humility ; for it is the legitimate off-
spring of unbelief; and humility is always con-
nected with living faith. There is, moreover, a
timid spirit, which attempts little, and therefore
accomplishes little; on the ground perhaps that
there may be danger of over-rating one's own
powers; but humility is perfectly consistent with
forming large plans, and entering upon the most
extensive field of action, provided it be from Chris-
tian motives. It is a mistake into which many per-
sons fall, that pride is always the accompaniment
of rank, and that humility is found almost of course
among the lower classes. There may be more, I
acknowledge, in the one case than the other, to
foster a spirit of pride ; though even in this re-
spect, on account of the different standards that
exist among various classes, there may be less dif-
ference than might be imagined ; but the truth un-

244 LETTERS TO

doubtedly is, that you may be very humble in any
station to which Providence can raise you ; or you
may be very proud in the obscurest situation to
which you can be reduced.

But there is nothing in which a spirit of false
humility discovers itself more decisively than in
speaking more unfavorably of one's self than facts
will warrant. Expressions of this kind almost
uniformly fail of their object ; for it requires but
little discernment to detect the unworthy motive.
If you attribute to yourself faults with which you
and the world know that you are not chargeable,
instead of being taken as a mark of humility, it
will be regarded as an indication of a weak mind,
and an unworthy attempt to provoke commendation
which you do not deserve.

One of the most common, and to me one of the
most painful exhibitions of this spirit, consists in
the indiscriminate and often somewhat public con-
fessions of professed Christians in respect to their
own coldness and neglect of duty, when they
manifest no disposition to be more active and
faithful. All this kind of self righteous gossip-
ing (for I can call it nothing better) is often found
a most convenient substitute for doing one's duty;
and, if I mistake not, many a lukewarm Christian
has found in these unmeaning confessions an
opiate to his conscience, in the strength of which

A DAUGHTER. 245

he has gone many days. And I am constrained
to express my conviction that this same spirit
not un frequently operates in prayer ; and that
acknowledgments of grievous backsliding are at-
tempted to be poured into the ear of mercy, which
are really very little felt, and which are scarcely
designed to answer any other purpose (I almost
shudder to say it) than to lessen the remorse which
attends a habit of sinning. Wherever you see
active efforts to forsake sin and to rise to a higher
tone of religious feeling and action, there you
may take it for granted is true humility: but
where nothing appears but confessions of delin-
quency, however deep or often repeated, you may
rely on it, the genuine grace is not there.

True Christian humility is one of the effects of
divine grace operating upon the heart. The
apostle has beautifully described it in few words,
as a disposition which leads us not to think more
highly of ourselves than we ought to think. It
discovers itself in heartfelt expressions of abase-
ment before God, and in the modesty of our
appearance, conversation, and pursuits, before the
world.

It is one of the first exercises of true humility,
that it leads to the renunciation of our own works
as a ground of justification. Notwithstanding the
Christian may be conscious of being enabled really

246 LETTERS TO

to exercise some graces, yet when he compares
his character with the standard, he rinds such an
awful deficiency that he dares not trust to his own
doings for a moment. When he asks himself
whether he is really sincere, whether he loves
God, and is seeking to advance his glory, his con-
science returns an affirmative, though perhaps a
somewhat trembling answer. But when he in-
quires whether his offences do not fearfully pre-
ponderate, much more whether he has a right to
hope for salvation on the ground of his own obe-
dience, his mind is instantly directed to the right-
eousness of Christ. Sometimes, it may be, when
the candle of the Lord shines bright upon him, he
is ready for a moment to imagine that his moun-
tain stands strong ; but not improbably the change
is so sudden to a state of darkness and doubt, that
he begins to question the reality of his whole ex-
perience. Whoever has yet to learn that his own
strength is weakness, and that his own righteous-
ness is nothing in the affair of justification, has not
entered upon the Christian life, and is of course a
stranger to genuine humility.

Closely connected with the renunciation of our
own works, is hatred of sin. It is true indeed that
the Christian does not contemplate sin in all its
malignity : he does not realize how deep is the de-
pravity which reigns in his own heart ; nor are the

A DAUGHTER

247

views which he has of the subject equally clear
at all times : still he has had such views at some
period or other as to bring him into the dust before
God. And this self abasement does not arise
from the contemplation of sin as it is acted out in
its more odious forms in the world, so much as
from a view of his own personal depravity. It is
the principle of sin, especially as it operates in
his own bosom, which awakens his most cordial
hatred, and enlists his most active opposition.

The motives for the cultivation of humility are
so numerous that I can only glance at a few of
them. One of them is to be found in the fact that
this grace is an essential and prominent part of
Christian character ; and that you have so much
and only so much of true religion as you have of
true humility. One of the fathers said, " If I were
asked, what is the first grace of the Christian, I
would say, Humility. If I were asked what is the
second, I would say, Humility. If I were asked,
what is the third, I would still say, Humility for-
ever." No doubt pride, in some form or other, is
the ruling principle of the corrupt heart: if then
vou would reach a high point in sanctification,
guard against pride in all its forms, and be always
clothed with the garments of humility.

And if this be so important a part of Christian
character, I hardlv need say that it is essential to

248 LETTERS TO

the Christian's comfort. Every thing in the uni-
verse is part of a system ; and when it is in the
place appointed for it, it is either at rest or in har-
monious motion. This is true of ' ourselves : but
pride disturbs this harmony, and by removing the
soul out of its proper sphere, makes it restless and
unhappy. The great secret of true happiness in
any station is to have a principle introduced, and
in exercise, which will restore harmony to the pas-
sions, and will relieve us from the conflicts and
tumults they occasion.

Not a small part of the unhappiness that exists
in the world, results immediately from the opera-
tion of pride. Where in the annals of wo will
you find characters that have been subjected to
deeper suffering than Pharaoh, and Nebuchadnez-
zar, and Herod ? But, in each of them, pride was
emphatically the ruling passion, and to it they sac-
rificed every thing valuable in time and eternity.
And a similar result we have seen in many cases
that have fallen under our own observation: per-
sons who have gloried in their fancied superiority
to those around them — a superiority perhaps
which has been conferred by the glitter of wealth,
or the breath of applause, — have at length been
permitted to fall, not only into entire insignifi-
cance, but the deepest degradation ; thus verify-
ing the divine declaration that " he that exalteth

A DAUGHTER. 249

himself shall be abased." On the other hand,
wherever the genuine humility of the gospel ap-
pears, whatever the external circumstances may-
be, there you may look with confidence for true
happiness. Even under the darkest cloud of ad-
versity, humility diffuses a sweet peace, and some-
times an unutterable joy, through the soul. Who
lias not seen the humble Christian breathing out
his life in triumph ? Who has not seen the proud
worldling dying without consolation and without
hope ?

Let me say too that a spirit of humility will go
far towards rendering you acceptable and useful
in your intercourse with the world. The conduct
in which a proud spirit discovers itself, is almost
sure to revolt even the proud themselves, when
they witness it in others ; and as for the humble,
they cannot fail to regard it as an odious quality,
though they may pity those who are the subjects
of it. The usefulness of the proud man must be
limited, not only because his pride will probably
keep him within a narrow sphere, but because the
efforts which he actually makes, being prompt-
ed by a wrong spirit, will not be likely to draw
down upon them the blessing of God. It were
worth while to be humble, if it were only for the
advantages which humility secures in the present
life.

250 LETTERS TO

Remember that a proud spirit cannot be con-
cealed. If it exists in the heart, all the means
you can use to conceal it from the world, will be
in vain. It will discover itself in your conversa-
tion and deportment, and will give a complexion
to your whole character. I have known instan-
ces in which the manners of persons have been
formed in the morning of life under the influence
of a principle of pride ; and though they after-
wards gave evidence of true piety, the haughty
and overbearing manner which they had early ac-
quired, in spite of all their exertions to the con-
trary, continued to the close of life. Wherever
this spirit is acted out in the manners, it is always
odious ; but where it appears in the manners of a
female, it receives, from the world at least, a double
condemnation.

With a view to increase a spirit of humility,
meditate much on the character of God, and
especially his holiness, as it is exhibited in the
work of redemption. Meditate much on the exam-
ple of Christ, who humbled himself, and became
obedient to death, even the death of the cross.
Endeavor to gain deep impressions of your guilt,
and of the punishment to which your sins have
justly made you liable. Dwell upon the goodness
of God, as it is manifested to you in your unnum-
bered mercies ; on the promises of God to the

A DAUGHTER. 251

humble and contrite ; and remember that one em-
ployment of the redeemed in glory is to cast their
crowns at their Saviour's feet.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XIX.

DEVOTION.

My Dear Child, — You cannot be ignorant
that one of the primary elements of Christian
character is a spirit of devotion. There is indeed
much that assumes the name of devotion, which
has nothing in common with genuine piety, while
yet it is adopted as a substitute, for it. There is
the habit of entire seclusion from the world ; there
is the practice of severe self mortification — doing
penance to atone for one's misdeeds, which has
been and still is, to a considerable extent, current
in the world, under the name of devotion ; though
I need not stop to show that all this is merely the
operation of a spirit of self righteousness, and in
many instances no doubt of deliberate hypocrisy.
It makes nothing against true devotion that it has
its counterfeits, and that some of them are very fair,
while yet they are very base. It is not always
easy at first view to distinguish the genuine from
the counterfeit coin, though when each comes to
be subjected to a rigid analysis, they are found to

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 253

have nothing in common but the external appear-
ance. In like manner, there often seems a close
resemblance between true and false devotion ; and
it may not always be possible for the undiscern-
ing eye of man to discriminate between them ; but
to the eye of Omniscience, they are as widely
different from each other as the most opposite
elements.

True devotion is that spiritual intercourse
which the soul has with its Maker and Redeemer ;
it is the intelligent communing of man with the
Almighty spirit, in acts of grateful and reverential
homage. The intellect rises up to a contempla-
tion of God — of his character and of his works —
and the affections rise along with it, and the whole
soul is awed, and melted, and quickened, by com-
ing in contact as it were with the infinite Majesty.
The primary elements of devotion are the truths
of God's word. Without an intelligent view of
these truths, there may indeed be a warm glow of
feeling, but it is not kindled by the breathing of
God's Holy Spirit, and is nothing better than a
gust of enthusiasm. The person who is in the
exercise of a truly devotional spirit, even amidst
its deepest fervors, can assign a good reason for
every emotion that he experiences ; he can point
to some doctrine or some promise in God.'s holy
word, to justify all that he expresses, and all that

254 LETTERS TO

he feels. Devotion, just in proportion as it sub-
sists upon any other aliment than the simple truth,
becomes blind, and of course spurious.

The spirit of devotion finds its clement pecu-
liarly, though by no means exclusively, in the
closet. If it were compelled to encounter contin-
ually the cold atmosphere of the world, it would
seem scarcely possible but that it should languish
and finally expire ; but it goes back at short inter-
vals to the closet, and then comes forth invigorated
by its secret communings with the fountain of
light and strength. It is of great importance that
the duty of secret prayer should be performed not
only frequently but at stated seasons ; for while it
is most intimately connected with the maintenance
of a spirit of devotion, and of course with growth
in grace, a habit of irregularity is almost sure to
beget a habit of coldness ; and by this very process
many a Christian has passed in a short period
from a state of high religious enjoyment and acti-
vity to a state of grievous backsliding. Indeed I
think there are few cases of religious declension
which will not be found to have originated in a
neglect of the closet. And on the other hand,
where these duties are intelligently, devoutly, and
regularly performed, you may look with confi-
dence for a vigorous tone of religious feeling, and
a consistent course of religious action.

A DAUGHTER. 255

But as we are social beings, it is right that de-
votion should sometimes be a social exercise ; and
hence we find that God has instituted the ordi-
nance of public worship. Where Christians come
together in the great congregation, and there is
the union of many hearts, the name of devotion
sometimes burns with peculiar ardor, and the
communion of saints furnishes some feeble im-
pression of what their communion will be, when
they shall unite in the songs of Heaven, and cast
their crowns together before the throne. As you
value the pleasure and the privilege of devotion,
and as you regard the will and authority of God,
you will make it a point never, from any insuffi-
cient reason, to be absent from his house. I say
nothing here of the preaching of the gospel, though
this too is an ordinance of divine appointment,
and one of the most important means of improve-
ment in piety ; but I speak now of public worship
in distinction from the dispensation of the word ;
and of that I affirm unhesitatingly, that you can-
not neglect it, or engage in it with a divided heart,
without bringing spiritual barrenness and death
into your soul.

In addition to the public devotions of God's
homse, in which you should always mingle, unless
j rovidentially prevented, I would earnestly recom-
.,'"i\d the practice of meeting occasionally a few

256 LETTERS TO

female friends for the purpose of social prayer.
The practice which has prevailed in some places,
of females conducting the devotions of a public
meeting in which the sexes are indiscriminately
mingled, seems to me as contrary to scripture as
it is revolting to a sense of propriety ; and though
I acknowledge there may be cases in which a
pious female may be justified in offering a prayer
in the presence of one or more of the other sex,
yet I am constrained to regard these cases as
exceptions from a general rule, and as of rather
unfrequent occurrence. But that females should
meet for social prayer, and especially in a small
circle — females too, who are in the habits of inti-
macy, is not only perfectly consistent with the
most rigid propriety, but is due to the relation
which they sustain to each other as fellow disci-
ples of the Lord Jesus. While such a habit is
fitted to strengthen their Christian friendship, and
increase their interest in each other's spiritual
welfare, it furnishes rich materials for pious reflec-
tion, and renders their intercourse fruitful in bless-
ings to themselves, and it may be hoped to others
also. If any degree of prejudice has existed
in any part of the Christian community against
meetings of this description, it is manifestly in a
great measure removed ; and it is an auspicious
circumstance that Christian females, in the higher

A DAUGHTER. 257

as well as humbler walks of life, have associated
so extensively in smaller or larger circles with re-
ference to this object.

There are some things which operate as hin-
drances to devotion, against which you ought to
guard with unremitted vigilance. There is a habit
of sloth, which will inevitably keep the soul from
rising to God, and will render every spiritual
perception indistinct, and every spiritual exercise
feeble. There is ignorance of divine truth, which,
though it may not stand in the way of mere ani-
mal fervor, is fatal to genuine devotion, inasmuch
as it is the withholding from it its proper aliment.
There is the indulgence of wandering thoughts,
which renders what seems to be an act of homage
an act of mockery. There is the neglect of pre-
paratory meditation ; which makes the external
duty of prayer too much like the rushing of the
horse into battle. Many a Christian, from having
neglected to watch against these and other kindred
evils, has lost, in a great measure, the spirit of
devotion, or else has never possessed it but in so
feeble a degree as to render its very existence a
matter of question.

In the exact opposite of these evils you mav

find the most important helps to devotion. Be

careful then that you cultivate a habit of spiritual

activity, and that vour religious affections are kept

17

258 LETTERS TO

continually vigorous by proper exercise. Be care-
ful that your mind is richly imbued with divine
truth for it is this which supplies the Christian
with arguments in prayer, and which the Holy
Spirit uses in teaching him how to pray. Be care-
ful that you keep your heart with all diligence ;
for a heart thus kept, awakes as it were instinct-
ively, to the exercise of devotion. Be careful that
you bring before your mind, by meditation, the
various subjects proper to occupy you in prayer ;
for this will render your offering at once more in-
telligent, more comfortable to yourself, and, as you
have reason to believe, more acceptable to God.
Indeed there is no Christian duty which you can
perform — no Christian grace which you can cul-
tivate, but it is fitted, either directly or indirectly,
to cherish a spirit of devotion ; for the various
parts of the Christian character are designed to
have, and where their tendency is not counter-
acted, actually do have a reciprocal influence on
each other.

Whether you have the spirit of genuine devotion
or not, you may ascertain by the following marks.
It will lead you to adore the perfections and
government of God ; to rejoice in the various dis-
coveries of his will ; and especially those which
are made to us through the medium of his word.
It will raise your heart to him in grateful acknow-

A DAUGHTER. 259

ledgment of your entire dependence ; in humble
confession of the sins of your life, and in devout
thanksgiving for the glorious scheme of redemp-
tion through Christ. It will lead you to intercede
for the whole human family ; to pray for the uni-
versal prevalence of truth and righteousness ; and
to aim at a constant conformity to the maxims
and principles of the gospel.

The influence which a spirit of devotion, habitu-
ally cherished, will exert upon your character,
happiness, and usefulness, it is not easy adequately
to estimate. The effect of it will indeed be to
humble you ; for the more the Christian sees of
God, the more he is disposed, like Job, to abhor
himself, and repent in dust and ashes. Bat never-
theless it will serve to exalt you ; for it will open
a free intercourse between you and your Re-
deemer, and will keep you constantly conversant
with the most glorious objects and interests in the
universe. It will tend also to render you more
pure ; for what so likely to effect this as commu-
nion with a God of infinite purity ? It will serve
to enlarge your views, and quicken your faculties,
and animate you to the more faithful discharge of
every part of your duty. It will be a sure guide
to you amidst difficulties, it will bring consolation
to you amidst sorrows, and it will render your
dying bed soft as downy pillows are. In short it

260 LETTERS TO A DAUG-HTER.

is emphatically the spirit of heaven ; and if it
have found a lodgement in your heart, it will ac-
company you thither, and find its appropriate ele-
ment amidst the harps, and songs, and hallelujahs
jf the redeemed.

Your Ever Devoted Father.

LETTER XX

CHRISTIAN BENEVOLENCE.

My Dear Child, — It is the tendency of the
gospel not only to elevate the soul to God by
bringing into exercise a spirit of devotion, but to
minister directly to the benefit of man, by exciting
and cherishing a spirit of benevolence. The dis-
position, naturally amiable and generous, it ren-
ders still more so, while it imparts to its exercises
a religious character, by subjecting them to the
control of principle and conscience. The natural-
ly malevolent spirit it subdues, and changes into
a spirit of benignity and good will. It thaws out
the heart frozen up by avarice, and unclenches
the hand which has been shut against the urgent
claims of human wo. It rebukes an indolent tem-
per, and induces a habit of activity by writing
on the heart the doctrine of human obligation. In
short, wherever the genuine influence of the gos-
pel is felt, there is a spirit of benevolence produced
which prompts irresistibly to a course of generous
and useful exertion.

262 LETTERS TO

That the effect of the gospel upon the human
character is as I have described, will not be ques-
tioned by any person of common observation or
candor. But while it is readily conceded that it
forms in the heart a spirit of benevolence, the fe-
male sex, up to a very recent period, have, by a
sort of common consent, been in a great measure
kept out of the field in which this spirit may find
its legitimate operation. It is true indeed, that not
many years have elapsed since the church has
begun to be aroused to a sense of her obligation.
Within considerably less than half a century,
nearly the whole of Protestant Christendom seem-
ed to be acting upon the conviction that the evan-
gelizing of the world, instead of being effected by
the enlightened and persevering activity of the
church, was to be reserved as a splendid subject
for some stupendous miracle. But for some time
after the sense of responsibility began to be felt,
and the church began to arise and shake herself
from the slumber of centuries, it was still a problem
in many minds whether this were a proper field for
the pious activity of females ; and there were not
a few who pertinaciously maintained that woman
was out of her proper element, the moment she
emerged from her retirement into a scene of public
benevolent action. It was indeed her privilege
to cultivate benevolent feelings at home, and to

A DAUGHTER. 263

dispense charity to the needy who might come
to her door, and go out occasionally on an explo-
ring tour of mercy in her immediate neighborhood ;
but as for putting her hand to the great work of
sending the gospel over the world, it was regarded
as something too bold and masculine to consist
with the delicacy of female character. This pre-
judice, I well know, is in a great measure removed,
insomuch that a female who imbibes the actively
benevolent spirit of the age, has nothing to
fear from public opinion; nevertheless, I doubt
not that, even at this day, there are many who
are kept from doing what they might and what
they ought, by an apprehension not unfrequently
encouraged by the false delicacy of mothers, that
if their activity is carried beyond a very narrow
sphere, they will expose themselves to the charge
of being obtrusive. And while there are some who
urge this plea with sincerity, yet from mistaken
views, no doubt there are others, who avail them-
selves of it merely with a view to make themselves
easy and respectable in a habit of indolent
inaction.

I cannot suppose it necessary at this day that I
should attempt an argument to convince you that
females are acting within their appropriate sphere,
when they are laboring in common with the other
sex for the conversion of the world ; for I would

264 LETTERS TO

fain hope that instead of requiring to be con-
vinced on this subject, you have already learned
to regard it a privilege and honor to labor in this
cause as God may give you opportunity. Never-
theless, I admit that the fact of your belonging to
the female sex is not to be overlooked in estima-
ting the part you are to bear in these great opera-
tions There are eases in which it may be proper
that both sexes should co-operate in one association
for the advancement of the same object ; and
in every instance of this kind, propriety requires
that females should follow rather than lead: no
matter how efficient they are, provided only they
keep within proper limits, and are satisfied that
the business of directing and managing should be
kept in other hands. But, in general, I would re-
commend that the two sexes should act for these
objects in distinct associations; as females parti-
cularly, will be likely in this way to act with
greater freedom and efficiency. Even here, you
should of course be on your guard against assum-
ing any thing that does not belong to you ; though
you should be equally cautious, on the other
hand, that you do not, from false modesty, de-
cline any responsibility which you really ought
to assume.

That some of the great objects of the present
day may enlist the influence and activity of females

A DAUGHTER. 265

more appropriately than others, admits not of
question ; and if there are any which claim their
regard before all others, perhaps they are those
which more immediately involve the well being of
their own sex. But I know not whether there are
scarcely any of the common charities of the day
in which females may not with strict propriety,
bear a part. They may associate for the circula-
tion of the Bible, for the distribution of Tracts, for
the education of young men for the Christian
ministry, for carrying forward missionary opera-
tions, or for any kindred object, and be as little lia-
ble to the charge of acting out of their appro-
priate sphere, as if they were performing the most
retired duties of domestic life. In questions of mere
political reform, I do not think it the province of
females to take a decided part : not that I would
prohibit them in all cases from expressing an
opinion, but I would object entirely to any thing
that even appears like active interference. If they
are to exert any influence in this department, it
should be of the most silent and unobtrusive kind.
But as to those objects which relate merel}?- to the
moral and religious improvement of the world,
just so far as public sentiment should prevent their
taking a part, it would be chargeable with a
shameful abridgement of their rights.

In what I have already said, it has been implied

266 LETTERS TO

that females are to contribute not only their influ-
ence but their substance for the advancement of
the Redeemer's cause ; inasmuch as the great
work will never go forward without an immense
amount of pecuniary aid. How much you shall
give is a question to be answered by an enlight-
ened conscience, in view of the means with which
God has blessed you. But in forming the esti-
mate of your duty in this respect, take heed that
you are not misled by a disposition to indulge the
pride of life ; and as the case may be, do not
regard some little retrenchment from your per-
sonal expenses a hardship, for the sake of casting
more liberally into the treasury of the Lord. And
while you should make it a matter of conscience to
give to the extent of your means, you should also
exercise discretion in apportioning your contribu-
tions to different objects according to their relative
importance. A small contribution made with good
judgment as it respects the object, the time, and
the manner, may be instrumental of more good
than a much larger one made from the mere
impulse of a generous spirit, without discrimina-
tion and without reflection.

In connexion with the great benevolent opera-
tions of the age, in which I trust you will never
be backward to enlist, let me mention what may
at first appear a somewhat humbler sphere of

A DAUGHTER. 267

female usefulness. — I mean the Sabbath school.
From the time that you ceased to be connected
with this institution as a pupil, I would have you
connected with it as a teacher ; and if you dis-
charge your duty faithfully, I may safely say that
your labors in this department will be as likely to
draw after them a blessing as in any other. The
good which female influence has already accom-
plished by means of this unostentatious institution,
it is beyond the power of the human mind ade-
quately to estimate ; and it is not too much to say
that Sabbath schools are to hold an important
place in the moral machinery by which the world
is to be regenerated. However humble may seem
the employment of teaching a few children every
Sabbath a lesson from the sacred scriptures, you
are probably doing more, at least in many cases,
by this simple exercise, to train them for useful-
ness and for heaven, than is done by all other
means united. But in order that you may
accomplish all the good of which this institution
is designed to be the medium, take care that
you do your whole duty in connexion with the
Sabbath school with scrupulous fidelity. Let the
grand object at which you aim be, not only to
imbue the minds of your pupils with scriptural
knowledge, but to imbue their hearts with evange-
lical feeling; in short, to make them practical

268 LETTERS TO

Bible Christians. It is a mistaken principle upon
which not only much of the instruction of the
Sabbath school, but of the family, has been
conducted, that young children are incapable of
being the subjects of converting grace. A sounder
doctrine on this subject is indeed beginning to
prevail ; and both parents and Sabbath school
teachers are learning from experience that there is
a more impressive meaning than they once sup-
posed in the Saviour's declaration — " Suffer little
children to come unto me and forbid them not,
for of such is the kingdom of heaven." Let the
instruction that is communicated in the Sabbath
school be entirely evangelical, and let it be accom-
panied from time to time, with tender and solemn
appeals to the heart and conscience, and there is
good reason to expect that such a course of efforts
will result in a genuine conversion ; and let the
truth still be impressed from Sabbath to Sabbath,
upon the mind and heart, and let there be direct
counsels and warnings adapted to the circum-
stances of the case, and it is reasonable and scrip-
tural to believe, that there will be formed, even in
the morning of life, a stable and consistent Chris-
tian character. It would seem from some of the
prophecies, that, previous to the opening of the
millenium, the influences of the Spirit are to be
plentifully poured out for the conversion of chil-

A DAUGHTER. 269

dren and youth ; and if I do not greatly mistake
the signs of the times, these prophecies are already
beginning to be fulfilled, in the signal success that
^ttends the Sabbath school institution.

There is one part of the duty of a Sabbath
school teacher, for which females are especially
qualified — that of finding out and gathering into
this nursery of Christian charity the children of
the wretched and destitute. With more of consti-
tutional tenderness than belongs to the other sex,
they can more readily gain access to the hearts of
parents, and are more likely to overcome obstacles
which may be thrown in their way. And the
visits which they make for the purpose of bring-
ing in children from the haunts of vice and mis-
ery, may, if properly conducted, in some instances
at least, subserve the additional purpose of com-
municating good impressions to the parents, and
even of making them regular attendants at the
house of God. There have been repeated in-
stances in which a young female, not in the high-
est walks of life, by faithfully discharging her
duty as a Sabbath school teacher, both in the
school and out of it, has been honored as the
instrument of conversion to a whole family, and
that too a family which had been sunk in the low-
est moral debasement. Surely such facts ought to
encourage every young female, who has it in her

270 LETTERS TO

power, to engage in the Sabbath School enterprise,
and to discharge even those parts of her duty
which involve the most self denial, with alacrity
and diligence.

Perhaps there has been no individual in modern
times to whom the church is more indebted for
elevating the standard of benevolent enterprise in
the female sex, than Harriet Newell. When she
formed the resolution to encounter the hardships
of a missionary life in a heathen land, there were
not wanting those, even among professed Chris-
tians, to whom the project seemed like the off-
spring of fanaticism, and who regarded her, when
she took leave of her country and kindred, as hav-
ing well nigh parted with her reason. But none
of these things moved her. With a firmness and
disinterestedness of purpose which religion alone
could inspire, she turned her back upon all the
endearments of home, and after encountering in a
long voyage the perils of the deep, reached the
anticipated field of her labors. But instead of
meeting there the fatigues and deprivations usu-
ally incident to missionary life, she found, upon
her first arrival, that the hand of death was upon
her, and she was sinking suddenly, though calmly,
to her rest. But rely on it, she did not cross the
ocean and make her grave in that foreign land to
no purpose. It looked at first like a dark dispen-

A DAUGHTER. 271

sation, and when it was announced, it seemed as
if the whole American church was in tears. But
long since has the church been taught to contem-
plate it as marking one of the brightest eras in
the history of her missionary operations. The
example of this devoted woman gave a new im-
pulse to female effort in the cause of Christ.
Multitudes of her sex have in imagination visited
her distant grave, and have felt their hearts kindle
with brighter and holier zeal ; and while some
have followed her in the same enterprise, and
have actually laid down their lives on the same
field, others have engaged with renewed activity
in the cause of their Kedeemer at home, and stand
ready to make any sacrifice which the honor of
his name may require of them. The memory
of Harriet Newell is embalmed in thousands of
hearts, and no doubt her name will stand on
" bright record " through the ages of the mille-
nium ; and will shine with the lustre of the firma-
ment when it shall be displayed in the Lamb's
book of life.

I know not how to form a greater contrast than
must exist between the dying bed of a female such
as I have described, and one who has lived only
for purposes of self gratification. Can you con-
ceive, on the one hand, of any thing more delight-
ful, than to look back from a death bed upon a

272 LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER.

series of pious efforts for the advancement of the
Redeemer's kingdom ; to think that those efforts
may have been instrumental in opening fountains
of salvation in heathen lands ; to feel all the com-
posure and joy which the approaching dawn of
immortality can shed over the heart ; and to look
forward to a crown of victory studded with innu-
merable gems, in each of which you may recog-
nise the ransomed soul of a once perishing
heathen ? And on the other hand, can you con-
ceive of any thing more dreadful than to review
from the gates of the grave a life full of trifling
and vanity; to reflect that the world is not the
better but the worse for your having lived in it ;
and to be haunted by the ghosts of departed and
misspent years, which come up in frightful suc-
cession to give you a deeper chill of horror in the
valley of death ? If there be any thing alluring
or any thing appalling in this contrast, then choose
the life of the active Christian, that you may share
in his present consolation, and reap his eternal re-
ward.

Your Truly Affectionate Father.

LETTER XXI.

CHRISTIAN ZEAL.

My Dear Child, — There is a perpetual ten-
dency in human nature, as well with respect to
religion as every thing else, to rush into extremes.
And perhaps there is nothing in which this ten-
dency is more strikingly manifested, than in the
disposition to magnify one part of Christian cha-
racter at the expense of another. There are those
who make the whole of religion consist in devo-
tional fervor; and by keeping it constantly shut
up in the closet they render it sickly and ineffi-
cient. And there are those who make it consist
entirely in the stir of public action ; who seem to
regard the private duties of the Christian as some-
what puritanical ; which, though they might have
been well enough in other days, yet, in the pre-
sent age of action, have become in some measure
outlawed. It hence results that much of the reli-
gion that exists in the world is partial ; and much
of it, for the same reason, spurious.

Now what has happened to every other grace

274 LETTERS TO

of the Christian has happened to zeal — it has
sometimes been elevated not only to a precedence
above all the other graces, but at the expense of
all the rest ; as if it were the sum and substance
of Christian character. On the other hand, it has
been looked upon with suspicion, and been con-
founded with enthusiasm, and the first appearance
of it has been a signal for alarm, as if the church
were falling into a fit of insanity. I shall hope
to show you in the progress of this letter, that,
while true zeal is absolutely indispensable to a
Christian, it still leaves room for the operation of
other graces and virtues ; and that noble and
heavenly as is the genuine quality, there may be
much that assumes the name, which, to say the
least, will be treated as wood, hay, and stubble.

Christian zeal may be defined in a single sen-
tence as a sincere and warm concern for the glory
of God and ' the spiritual interest of mankind.
Let me call your attention more particularly to
some of its leading attributes.

It can be scarcely necessary that I should re-
mark that it is a spiritual affection. There is a
warm glow of animal feeling which results entire-
ly from constitutional temperament, and which
there is great danger, in certain circumstances, of
mistaking for Christian zeal. If it happens to be
directed towards a good object, as it sometimes is,

A DAUGHTER. 275

it may actually accomplish great good, and may
work its way through obstacles of an appalling na-
ture, and will not improbably shame some of the
more feeble operations of evangelical zeal. But
if the object at which it aims is bad, why then its
effects will be bad too : it will be as furious and
desolating as a whirlwind. It may be enlisted,
you perceive, in a good cause or in an evil cause ;
but not being under the control of principle, it can
never be trusted.

Christian zeal, though it may be modified in its
operations by constitutional temperament, yet it is
something entirely distinct from it : it belongs to
man only in his renewed state. It is not one of
the original qualities which man receives from
God the Creator, but one of the spiritual gifts
which he receives from God the Sanctifier. It is
as truly a Christian grace as faith, or humility, or
love to God.

It is another of its characteristics that it is con-
cerned about objects of real moment. There is a
zeal which exhausts itself upon rites and forms,
and lives in the region of airy speculations and
doubtful enterprises. Christian zeal, on the other
hand, aims directly at the noblest objects and
interests in the universe. It surveys a world
lying in wickedness, exposed to God's everlasting-
curse ; it sees on every side a multitude of souls

276 LETTERS TO

enthralled by the prince of darkness, and liable to
sink under his withering frown ; and it stretches
out the hand of compassion to avert, if possible,
the threatening woes : to hedge up the path to
destruction, and turn the footsteps of the multi-
tude into the path of life. And it is concerned
for the glory of Goo not less than the happiness
of man. It remembers that in every instance in
which the redemption of the gospel takes effect,
there comes a revenue of glory to God in the
Highest ; and it desires to witness constantly
brighter exhibitions of that glory ; to behold the
Saviour travelling in the greatness of his strength,
and gathering gems to his mediatorial crown.
Yes, it lifts itself in its sublime aspirations to the
very throne of God, and longs and labors for the
advancement of all the great and holy interests of
his kingdom.

Christian zeal is an enlightened principle. He
who is under its influence takes an intelligent
view of the great objects he desires to see accom-
plished, and deliberately satisfies himself of then-
real importance. He takes a similar view of the
means to be employed for their accomplishment,
and decides that they are such as reason, and con-
science, and God, can approve. And he not only
consults faithfully the oracles of God, but seeks
direct illumination from above, that in every step

A DAUGHTER. 277

he may be guided by heavenly wisdom ; and in
the most fervent operations of his zeal, he is never
for an hour beyond the dominion of sober and en-
lightened judgment. There is a zeal which is not
according to knowledge ; which is blind in its
operations, and disastrous in its results. But I
hardly need say that it has no affinity to the
genuine Christian grace.

Christian zeal is earnest. It is not a mere casual
emotion, so feeble that it may exist while the mind
is scarcely conscious of it; but it is a deep, strong,
settled principle, which pervades in its operations
the whole soul, and awakens the moral sensibili-
ties into lively exercise. The person who is under
its influence has not only an intellectual but prac-
tical conviction that the salvation of sinners and
the interests of Christ's kingdom are matters of
the deepest moment ; and with this conviction he
is earnestly desirous that they should be promoted ;
and sometimes cannot even rest or scarcely suffer
others to rest, so long as these objects are regard-
ed with indifference.

I know that many of the careless world, and
even some professing Christians, whose hearts are
bound up in the frost of religious apathy, will
stigmatize every appearance of Christian zeal as
fanaticism. But I ask, for what objects it is
reasonable to be in earnest, if not for the salvation

278 LETTERS TO

of men and the glory of God ? When }rou con-
template the fearful import of that word eternity,
and think what it must be to inherit everlasting
joys or to inhabit everlasting burnings; and how
many there are on every side who are manifestly
rushing toward the pit — I ask whether the lack
of earnestness in these circumstances would not
indicate infatuation ? Christian zeal is earnest ;
and this is one of the reasons why it is rational.
It views things as they are, and treats them accord-
ingly.

But it is active as well as earnest. It is not un-
common to meet with a kind of zeal that expends
itself in words ; that is satisfied with deploring
the spiritual lethargy, or talking about the impor-
tance of a revival, or wishing well to the benevo-
lent enterprises of the day. It has a tongue, but
it seems to have little of heart, and certainly it is
halt and maimed. Christian zeal can and does
feel, and it can talk too where there is occasion ;
but it goes yet .farther and acts — acts with vigor
and efficiency. He who has it comes forward as
it were instinctively to the work of the Lord ; and
whether it be his substance, or his efforts, or his
prayers, that are demanded, the contribution is
made, and made cheerfully. This is the spirit
which you see acted out in the lives of many of our
missionaries, and even some of your own sex, who

A DAUGHTER 279

voluntarily surrender all the blessings of civilized
society, and make their home in a wilderness or a
heathen land, and wear life away in the most self
denying efforts for the salvation of their fellow
creatures. Here you see the activity of Christian
zeal ; a spirit which has its only proper element
amidst the wants and miseries of this ruined world.
But notwithstanding its activity, Christian zeal
is humble and unobtrusive. It does not indeed
shrink from publicity where there is just occasion
for making itself public ; and such occasions no
doubt will often occur ; — but it does nothing
merely to attract observation. Even its highest
and holiest triumphs are sometimes obtained in
circumstances of retirement ; and it takes no pains
to trumpet them, even if they are never heard of
by the world. Let the Christian accomplish as
much by his zeal as he may, even though the
whole moral region around him should smile
under his influence, he remembers that by the
grace of God he is what he is, and that by the
ffrace of God he does what he does ; and he
chooses to give God all the glory, and to sink
down before him as an unworthy instrument.
Whenever you see an individual glorying in what
he has himself accomplished, and apparently for-
getting that in all his efforts he is entirely depend-
ant on the influence of the Spirit, whatever of

280 LETTERS TO

apparent zeal there may be, you have great reason
to question its origin : you have reason to suspect
that instead of being a flame kindled from above,
it is of the earth, earthy ; or that it originated in
a spark from the world below.

Christian zeal is discreet, and has respect to
circumstances. I do not mean that it admits of a
temporizing policy which will sacrifice principle ;
nor a timid policy which makes one walk so softly
that not only his footsteps are never heard, but his
influence is never felt ; but I mean that it is
watchful in respect to circumstances and seasons,
while it endeavors, so far as possible, to make
every thing subservient to the great end of doing
good. It does not make a Christian regardless of
the common proprieties of life ; it does not decide
that the same measures shall be adopted at all
times without regard to cicumstances ; it does
not sanction the maxim that the end justifies the
means, or that it is no matter whether we obey
the directions in God's word or not, provided only
the object we have in view is attained ; — no, the
dictates of Christian zeal are far enough from all
this : while it inspires firmness, and fearlessness,
and unyielding resolution, it dictates a spirit of
caution, lest by some ill directed effort the cause
should be injured. The grand object it has in
view is to accomplish the utmost good by the very

A DAUGHTER. 281

means which God has prescribed ; and rather than
lose sight of that object, it will consent to be nick-
named apathy, or worldly prudence, or any other
opprobrious epithet which may be applied to it.

Christian zeal is affectionate. The person who
is animated by it will not indeed shrink from the
most self denying duties. One of the most self
denying, in many cases, is that of expostulating
with ungodly friends in respect to their salvation ;
but true zeal will carry a person forward to the
discharge of this, even in the most embarrassing
circumstances. But while it will cause him to
deal honestly and faithfully, it will breath into his
counsels and warnings the genuine spirit of Chris-
tian tenderness ; and he will show by his whole
manner that in all that he does he is influenced
by feelings of benevolence and compassion ; by
an earnest desire to deliver the individual from
the greatest possible evils, and to confer upon biiu
the greatest possible blessings. And let me say
that the tenderness of Christian zeal does more to
render it efficient than almost any other attribute.
It is this especially which opens a way into the
heart for the entrance of divine truth ; which
often gains a complete triumph, where the mere
energy of zeal would accomplish nothing.

Christian zeal is consistent. It is a truly pain-
ful exhibition, where we see professing Christians

282 LETTERS TO

acting earnestly, and apparently feeling deeply, in
reference to some one object, and manifesting an
entire apathy in regard to others of equal import-
ance. There are those for instance who manifest
great zeal in promoting the benevolent operations
of the day, who yet take no interest in seeing
religion revived in their immediate neighborhood.
There are those again who seem to be ever awake
to the importance of a revival, who are shamefully
negligent in respect to their own families ; and
communicate far less religious instruction to their
children than some parents who make no preten-
sions to piety. And there are those (though the
fact may seem almost incredible) who always
make conscience of being present at every social
meeting, and are ever ready to take part in its
exercises, who yet have very little to do with their
ovvn closets, and attend with great irregularity
upon family devotion. Now all this partial zeal,
to say the least, looks suspicious. True Christian
zeal differs from this, inasmuch as it directs itself
to the whole circle of Christian duties. He who
is under its influence, is indeed zealous for the
promotion of the bevevolent enterprises of the day,
but tiiis does not prevent him from taking a deep
interest in a revival of religion. He is zealous in
co-operating with the Holy Spirit for the salva-
tion of sinners around him ; but this does not at all

A DAUGHTER.

283

interfere with his desires and efforts to advance
the spiritual interests of his own family. He is
zealous for supporting religious meetings, not
only by his presence, but so far as he is able, by
his' direct aid; but he is not the less careful to
discharge the duties of the closet regularly and
devoutly, remembering that if the closet is neg-
lected, all the noise and stir he may make about
revivals, or in connexion with revivals, is mere
religious dissipation. He is zealous in all the
relations of life. As a parent he is zealous for
the salvation of his children. As a neighbor, he
is zealous for those around him. As a member of
the church, he is zealous for its prosperity. As a
creature of God, redeemed by the blood of his
Son, he is zealous for the promotion of his glory.
This is the consistencij of Christian zeal — another
attribute which imparts to it much of its loveliness
and of its power.

And to crown all, Christian zeal is persevering.
It is too much the fashion of the age to wake up
and be very active, and perhaps even boisterous
for a little season, and then to relapse quietly into
the slumber of death ; as if during this season of
excitement some work of supererogation had been
performed, by means of which had been purchased
the privilege of a dispensation from all religious
feeling ancf action, at least for a considerable pe-

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riod. And then begins the round of worldliness,
and of gaiety, and of communion with those scenes
which are fitted to make the cause of religion
bleed ; and here is presented to the world — to a
world which would gladly find a stumbling block
in every professor — the sad spectacle of a pro-
fessed disciple of Christ, who was lately seen ap-
parently burning with zeal for the salvation of
souls, as dead as a tenant of the grave. I stop
not to inquire what must be the effect of such an
example — I only say that this is not the zeal
which the Bible requires ; and though I dare not
say that true Christian zeal, owing to the im-
perfection of human nature, may not be in some
degree fluctuating, yet just in proportion as it has
this character, it becomes justly liable to suspicion.
The zeal which is according to knowledge, and
which is one of the graces of the Holy Spirit, is
a flame which holds on, and holds out, and burns
brighter and brighter unto the perfect day.

Though I have dwelt at so much length on the
nature of Christian zeal, I am unwilling to dismiss
the subject without suggesting a few things to en-
force its importance.

Let me say then that it is important as it stands
connected with the evidence of personal piety. It
is not easy, I acknowledge, to say to what extent
an individual may be deficient in this grace, and

A DAUGHTER. 285

yet be a true Christian ; but that some degree of it
is essential to Christian character, admits of no
question ; and if you possess it in only a feeble
measure, so that its existence shall be a matter of
doubt, your evidences, to say the least, must be
far from being satisfactory. You may be saved at
the last, but you cannot consistently indulge more
than a faint and trembling hope of salvation. Do
you desire to have bright evidence that you are to
dwell with God forever ? Then rise up to a high
tone of Christian zeal.

But this grace has much to do with religious
enjoyment. This indeed may be inferred from
the remark already made ; for the Christian's en-
joyment is so intimately connected with his evi-
dences, that whatever obscures the latter, must, in
the same degree, diminish the former. But the
point to which I here especially refer, is, that
Christian zeal is necessary to the free and comfort-
able discharge of duty. Without it I know it
is possible to go through around of external duties,
to be in the church, and the prayer meeting, and
even in the closet, at stated seasons, and occasion-
ally to drop a word of warning upon the ear of a
sinner, and put forth a hand to move forward the
great moral machinery of the age ; but it will be
more like a reluctant service rendered to a task
master, than the cheerful homage of filial affection.

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On the other hand, let the heart glow with Chris-
tian zeal, and the hands will of course be nerved
for Christian effort ; even the most difficult duties
will become easy, and the most appalling obstacles
will vanish. Whoever then would perform the
duties and endure the trials of the religious life
with ease and comfort, must become richly imbued
with Christian zeal.

And this grace is not less essential to the Chris-
tian's usefulness than his enjoyment. For without
zeal or with little of it, supposing him to be a
Christian, how limited will be the good which he
will accomplish ! Admitting that he is to be saved
himself, yet perhaps not a single soul will be saved
by his instrumentality. Who is the individual that
exerts an influence in raising the tone of public
morals, by purifying and elevating public senti-
ment ? It is he whose heart is fired with Chris-
tian zeal. Who is the person to be instrumental
in producing or sustaining a revival of religion ;
or in sending the gospel abroad to the destitute ; or
in carrying forward any of the high and holy ope-
rations connected with the kingdom, of Christ ?
It is the Christian who is full of holy zeal. And
who are they who in coming years are to be honor-
ed with the chief instrumentality in the conversion
of the world ? Who are they that will be greeted
as having done most for Christ when the glories

A DAUGHTER. 287

of the millennial morning shall be spread over the
earth? I tell you, they are your truly zealous
Christians ; — men and women who were not afraid
of being bold lest they should be accounted rash,
or prudent lest they should be accounted timid, or
earnest lest they should be called fanatics. If you
desire to have a part in bringing God's glorious
purposes to their accomplishment — if you desire
to escape the doom of the slothful servant, and to
appear at last to have lived for the benefit of your
fellow creatures, and the glory of God — be fer-
vently zealous in the Redeemer's cause.

I will only add that this grace is important as it
stands connected with the Christian's final reward.
True it is that reward is of grace, and not of debt.
Even the brightest crown that shall sparkle through
all the ranks of the redeemed, will be altogether
the purchase of the Redeemer's blood, and in no
sense the earnings of human merit. Nevertheless,
the crowns of heaven will be distributed according
to what each has been and done in the service of
Christ. That Christian who has been actuated
during a whole life by a glowing zeal for the sal-
vation of men, and the honor of the Redeemer,
will shine as the brightness of the firmament, while
the more sluggish Christian will be saved so as by
fire. Do you desire then not only to inhabit the
world of glory, but to rise to a high place in that

288 LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER.

world ? Would you stand near the throne of God,
and shout the praises of redemption in the loudest,
sweetest, holiest strains that vibrate around the
arch of heaven ? Would you aspire to an intimate
companionship with angels, and to all the purity
and bliss of which your nature is susceptible ? I
say again, let your heart and your life furnish a
perpetual exhibition of living, glowing, efficient
zeal.

I AM, AS EVER, YOUR DEVOTED FATHER.

LETTER XXII.

IMPROVEMENT OF TIME.

My Dear Child, — The subject upon which I
am now to address you, may be considered as in-
cluding in a general sense, much to which I have
already directed your attention ; for you will in-
stantly perceive that, as your time is given you to
be filled up with the discharge of duty, so the
right improvement of it must involve a faithful
attention to all the duties connected with your
various relations. The general subject however
is of so much importance that I do not feel will-
ing to pass it over without bringing it distinctly
before you.

There is a fashion which prevails too exten-
sively among all classes, of killing time ; and as
this is an evil into which many persons, and even
many professing Christians, fall without being
aware of it, it may not be amiss that I should put
you on your guard, by mentioning some of the
ways in which life is frittered away without the
accomplishment of its object.
19

290 LETTERS TO

One very effectual means of killing time is by
sleep. It is true indeed that a certain degree of
sleep is necessary alike to the physical and intel-
lectual constitution : it is the kind restorer of the
human faculties from a state of exhaustion ; and
is an evidence alike of the wisdom and goodness
of God. No doubt also an individual may err in
taking too little repose ; as he may thus not only
abridge his period of usefulness, but his amount
of exertion during that period : for if he bring to
his work (no matter what it is) faculties that have
lost their elasticity through the want of sleep, he
may indeed keep himself busy, but there is reason
to fear that he will be busied in a way that will
be little better than killing time. But the error to
which I designed here to refer, is that of excessive
indulgence in sleep. And the evil of this in
respect to the loss of time is twofold : not only the
time which is occupied by sleep is lost, but the
mind acquires a habit of drowsiness or indolence,
which greatly abates the vigor of all its opera-
tions. That different constitutions may require dif-
ferent degrees of rest there can be no doubt ; how
much is necessary in any given case is to be ascer-
tained only by experiment ; and every one ought
to make it a matter of conscience to consume as
little time in this way as is consistent with the
most healthful and vigorous state of the faculties.

A DAUGHTER.

291

Another means not less effectual of killing time,
is the indulgence of a wandering imagination.
It is an employment to which some minds are
exceedingly attached, to suffer their thoughts to
wander uncontrolled, in any direction they may
happen to take. Sometimes they may fall into
one channel, and sometimes into another ; hut let
them assume whatever course they may, no effort
is made to direct or restrain them. To say no-
thing of the fact that where such a habit exists,
there must be many trains of thought which
could not be uttered without an offence to the
purity and even the decorum of virtue, there can
be no doubt that nearly all these operations of the
mind partake deeply of vanity, and are unworthy
of an accountable and immortal being. At the
same time, useless and sinful as this employment
is in itself, it occupies the fleeting moments of
man's probation — moments that were given him
to prepare for eternity.

I may instance vain conversation as another
means of frittering away time. The social prin-
ciple which was implanted for the most important
purposes, is too often brought into operation for
purposes which God, and reason and conscience,
unitedly condemn; But to say nothing of the
more flagrant vices of the tongue, who does not
know how strong is the tendency, I may say, in

292 LETTERS TO

most persons, to indulge in idle and frivolous dis-
course ? Such a habit is exceedingly fitted to
dissipate the mind ; but the least you can say of it
is, that it is attended by a criminal waste of time.
It is robbing one's own understanding and heart :
it is robbing God.

And the same evil is accomplished by light and
foolish reading. I have elsewhere dwelt so much
upon this, that I allude to it here only as it stands
connected with the loss of time. And there are
no persons probably who are more liable to fall
into this error than young females. Many of
them will even consent to deprive themselves of
sleep for the sake of going through with some
ridiculous love-story, or following out the fortunes
of some imaginary hero, as they are depicted in
a novel. If you should ever find yourself engaged
in this miserable employment, just pause, at least
long enough to inquire of your conscience whether
that be the purpose for which your precious time
was given you.

But if you would do your whole duty on this
subject, you must not only avoid the evil of which
I have been speaking, but you must actually use
your time to the best advantage. Here again,
suffer me to give you two or three directions.

Be careful that your time is employed upon
objects of real utility. It is possible that an indi-

A DAUGHTER. 293

vidual may be very active, and in a certain way-
may bring much to pass, and yet after all may
have no good account to render of his time, inas-
much as it has been bestowed upon objects of
little or no moment. It is not enough that the
object to which your efforts are directed should
not directly interfere with the interests of any of
your fellow creatures, or that it should exert no
positively bad influence upon yourself: it should
be something from which you or they may reap
some positive advantage. In selecting a sphere in
which to occupy your time, you ought indeed to
have respect to your peculiar talents ; but you
should be certain that it is a sphere of real use-
fulness.

If you would use your time to the best advan-
tage, I hardly need say that you must form a
habit of persevering diligence. This is essential,
not only because you thus crowd into a given
period the greatest amount of useful exertion, but
because the faculties are thereby improved, and
rendered capable of more vigorous and successful
exercise. Make it a rule, therefore, never to allow
yourself to be idle, when your health and circum-
stances will permit you to be active. If you once
form an industrious habit, you will never after-
wards be able to content yourself in a state of
inactivity ; and on the other hand, if you begin

2£4 LETTERS TO

life with a habit of indolence, you will probably
never after acquire a relish for vigorous exertion.
In whatever circumstances Providence may place
you, take care that the whole of your time be em-
ployed : and consider the first inroads of indolence
as a melancholy harbinger of the wreck of your
usefulness, and the loss of your reputation.

There is one caution however which I would
suggest in connexion with this point — it is that
you should never suffer yourself to be in a hurry.
Let the demands upon your time be ever so nume-
rous, endeavor to keep your mind perfectly com-
posed, and address yourself to your various avoca-
tions as calmly as if you were insensible of their
pressure. The moment you become agitated by
care, you well nigh lose the power of doing any
thing to purpose. Your thoughts under such an
influence, will fly off to the winds, and a distracted
state of feeling will ensue, which will effectually
palsy every effort. Be as diligent as your health
will admit, but never suffer your exertions to be
embarrassed by the apprehension that you have
more on your hands than you shall be able to ac-
complish.

And this leads me to say that very much will
depend on your having your duties, so far as
possible, reduced to system. There is a way
which many good people have of taking things at

A DAUGHTER. 295

random ; seeming to be satisfied, if they are only
in a field of usefulness, whether they are laboring
to the best advantage or not. Instead of taking a
deliberate survey of the field into which they are
cast, and the various duties which devolve upon
them, and assigning to each set of duties an appro-
priate time, they take every thing as it happens to
rise ; and as a matter of course, not unfrequently
find themselves overwhelmed by such an accumu-
lation of cares, that they are in precisely the state
of whi-h I have just spoken — they know not to
which duty to give the precedence. If you take
care to cultivate order in the discharge of your du-
ties, you will not only accomplish more, and ac-
complish it with greater ease, but there will grow
out of it a beautiful consistency of character,
which will of itself be an important means of use-
fulness.

If you need motives to urge you to the faithful
improvement of your time, let me remind you of
your responsibility to God. Your time is one of
the talents which he has entrusted to you, and for
which he will ere long call you to an account.
Each moment is part of the precious deposit ;
and it bears its report for or against you to the
bar of your final judge. Remember that he
requires that your whole time should be spent in
his service, and to his glory. If you would meet

296

LETTERS TO

him to render an account of your stewardship with
confidence and joy, see to it that you practically
recognise his claim, and live under an abiding
sense of your obligation.

Kecollect too that the improvement of your time
is immediately connected with the improvement of
all your other talents. If your time is wasted, so
also is the vigor of your intellect ; your powers of
speech are perverted ; your moral and religious
privileges abused ; and your whole influence turned
into an improper channel. If you waste your
whole time, you of course throw yourself into a
current that will bear you rapidly to perdition:
just in proportion as you waste your time, you ac-
cumulate materials for a fearful reckoning, and if
you are a professed Christian, you render it proba-
ble that your hope will be as the giving up of the
ghost.

Remember further, that the time is short.
Should your life be protracted to the period of
old age, you will say, at its close, that it was only
" as a watch of the night, as a dream when one
awaketh." But of this you can have no assurance ;
and the only conclusion which analogy warrants is,
that you will probably not reach an advanced
period. And need I say that even now some of
your last moments may be on the wing ? Has the

A DAUGHTER

297

improvement of your past life been such that you
can review it with peace aud approbation ?

But after death is the judgment. When time is
past, then comes eternity; and your improvement
of the one must lay a foundation for your condi-
tion in the other. "With this solemn thought, I
take leave of the subject, earnestly praying that
your time may be spent in such a manner that it
shall be good for you and for others that you have

lived.

Your Affectionate Father.

LETTER XXIII.

PREPARATION FOR DEATH.

My Dear Child, — There is scarcely any thing
in human experience which at first view strikes
the mind as so difficult to be accounted for,
as the utter insensibility which the mass of man-
kind manifest on the subject of death. That
death is an event of most solemn and momentous
import, whether it be regarded in its physical or
its moral bearings, no rational mind can question.
Nature herself renders a testimony to this truth in
that shrinking and shuddering which the spirit
feels, when it is actually entering into communion
with this king of terrors. But who with an eye
upon the world, can fail to perceive that this event
is but little thought of; and though the grave
itself is continually speaking forth its rebuke
to human thoughtlessness and infatuation, and
though friendship strong and tender in death,
often pours out its earnest expostulations to the
living to prepare to die, yet the mass of the world
slumber on till they are startled by the footsteps of

LETTERS TO A DAUGHTER. 299

that messenger whose mandate they cannot resist.
This surely is not wisdom. It shows the despe-
rate madness of the human heart. It shows that
man is guilty, that he is afraid to hold communion
with the future, to enter into the secret chambers
of his own soul, and ponder the prospect of a
retribution.

But if the great majority of mankind manifest
an absolute aversion to the contemplation of death,
it must be acknowledged that even those who
profess to be the disciples of Christ, and to regard
death as gain, do not live as might be expected in
view of it. They think of it too little, converse
about it too little, prepare for it too little. Here
again, the secret of this is, that they love this
world too well, and even though they are partially
sanctified, they have too little sympathy with the
objects, and interests, and glories of the world
which the eye of faith sees beyond it.

There is a preparation for death which de-
volves upon the unforgiven sinner, of mighty im-
port. There is charged against him in the book
of God's remembrance an awful catalogue of
crimes, which he can do nothing in the way of
merit to expiate. His heart is the seat of corrupt
propensities and affections, which render him
utterly incapable of the joys of holiness. If he
die with this character, nothing awaits him but

300 LETTERS TO

that indignation and wrath which the Bible has
denounced upon the ungodly. His preparation
for death therefore must consist in having his
offences cancelled by the blood of Christ, and his
heart renewed by the Spirit of Christ; — in
other words, in a compliance with the requisitions
of the gospel, by repentance towards God and
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. These requisi-
tions once obeyed, he is in the most important
sense prepared to die. It is not indeed certain
that he will die triumphantly or even die peace-
fully : for he is yet but a babe in Christ ; but it is
as certain as the testimony of the Highest can
make it, that he will die to live and reign with the
Redeemer on his throne forever.

There is also a preparation for death, though of
a somewhat modified character, that devolves
upon the Christian. For notwithstanding the
soul which has once experienced the transform-
ing power of the Holy Spirit is sealed to the day
of redemption, yet it has still much of remaining
corruption to struggle with, and is far from being
adorned with the beauty of perfect holiness.
With the Christian then preparation for death
consists not merely in possessing a principle of
grace, but in keeping it in lively exercise ; not
merely in being able to recur to seasons in which
the love of Christ was shed abroad in his heart,

A DAUGHTER. 301

but to feel the precious influence of this love daily
and habitually. It is true, as I have said, that
everv believer dies a safe death ; but it is not true
that every one dies in the exercise of a triumphant
and elevated faith ; and some, no doubt, as a chas-
tisement for their neglect of duty, are left to die
under a cloud ; and perhaps are in actual horror,
till they emerge from the cloud which their own
guilt has spread over them, into the bright light of
an everlasting day. Every believer ought, every
believer may, avoid the evil of dying in darkness.
Let him keep his lamps trimmed and burning,
and his passage through the valley of death will
brighten into a scene of heavenly illumination.

You cannot fail to perceive that it is a matter of
infinite moment that you are prepared to die ; —
prepared in such a sense that the thought of death
shall never be unwelcome, and the approach of
it, however unexpected, instead of filling you
with alarm, shall be hailed as the harbinger of
heavenly glory. I am sure that you aim at
something higher than even to die safely : you
desire that your death may speak forth the all-sus-
taining power of the gospel ; — that in dying you
may bring some honor tc Him whose death is the
price of all your hopes and joys, of your entire
redemption. Let me then give you two or three

302 LETTERS TO

brief directions to aid you in making this most
desirable attainment.

Meditate frequently and solemnly upon death.
If it comes up before the mind only occasionally,
and at distant intervals, the certain consequence
will be that it will be regarded with chilling
apprehension ; and your thoughts will be likely
to fly from it, even though reason and conscience
strive to Retain them. Let no day, especially let
no evening pass, which does not witness to your
visiting in thought the grave. Endeavor to
become familiar with this subject in its various
parts and bearings. Meditate on the certainty of
the change ; on the nearness of its approach ; on
the circumstances which will probably attend it ;
— the parting with friends, the dropping of the
earthly tabernacle, the pains, the groans, the
dying strife, which may be crowded into the last
hour ; on the amazing scenes which must open
upon the spirit the moment death has done its
work, and on the riches of that grace which se-
cures to the believer a complete victory in his
conflict, and a triumphant entrance into heaven.
Let this course of meditation be conducted in the
most practical manner possible ; let it all come
home to your own bosom as a matter of personal
concern ; and the effect of it will be to make the
world appear in its true light, and to transfer from

A DAUGHTER. 303

time to time some new affections from earth to
heaven.

Beware of the world. Beware of its seductive
flatteries, its pestilential maxims, its unhallowed
practices. Remember that the spirit of the world
is directly opposed to the spirit of the gospel; and
that both cannot find a permanent lodgement in
the same bosom. If the world attempt to seduce
you by its smiles, dally not with the tempter for a
moment. If it attempt by its frowns to wither
your good purposes and bring you into subjection.
in the strength of Almighty grace march forward
to the conflict, and the world will retire and leave
you the victory. Have as little to do with the
grovelling and polluted scenes of earth as you
can, in consistency with your duty. Rise a ove
the world, and try to breathe the atmosphere of
heaven. Thus you will use it as not abusing it;
and all you have to do with it, instead of retard-
ing, will actually advance your preparation for
the grave.

And instead of multiplying directions on this
subject, I may say all in one word, if you would
be prepared to die, cultivate a spirit of devoted
piety. Aim constantly at the fulness of the stature
of a perfect person in Christ. Let every Chris-
tian grace be in you and abound ; endeavor to let
it be in you in its utmost perfection. Give to the

304 LETTERS TO .

Saviour the unreserved homage of your heart, and
the entire obedience of your life. Follow him
through good report and bad report, and count it
a joy and an honor to bear his cross. Let your
soul always be a temple for the Holy Ghost, and
be filled with the fulness of God. Such a life
constitutes true preparation for death. Live thus,
and you will have nothing to do in your last hour,
but to resign your spirit into your Redeemer's
hands, and die rejoicing.

With these brief directions, designed to aid you
in your preparation for death, I now take my
leave of you. And surely there is no subject with
which I might more properly conclude these
letters ; for this is the point in which they are all
designed to terminate. Whatever other purpose
might be answered by them, it would be with me
a matter of little moment, provided they should
have no effect in preparing you for death and
eternity. I here repeat what I said at the begin-
ning, that though you should possess every ami-
able quality, and every accomplishment which
your friends could desire, I could contemplate
your condition only with the deepest concern and
sorrow, if I were compelled to regard you a stranger
to godliness, and exposed to perdition.

Let me entreat you then, my dear child, as you
regard the tenderest sensibilities of a father's heart,

A DAUGHTFR. 305

as you regard the hopes which were formed in
respect to you by a mother who loved you and
blessed you in death, and as you regard the wishes
and prayers of another mother, who has watched
over your infancy, and cherished and counselled
your childhood — let me entreat you to endeavor
to conform your character to the standard which
has been exhibited in these letters. Let me only
see this, and I am sure I shall never cease to bless
God that I have written them. Give me but this
joy, and though I should be called to leave you
while you are yet young, in this cold, ungrateful
world, I could leave you without a chill of appre-
hension, fully persuaded that you would enjoy the
gracious protection of God while here, and mingle
in the refined and noble communion of the redeem-
ed hereafter.

That the perpetual blessing of a covenant keep-
ing God may rest upon you, is the most earnest
prayer of

Your Devoted Father.

20

BOOKS PUBLISHED BY

§Wffif§-
PRACTICAL ELOCUTION:

NOTICES AMD PJIOOIMEIEDATIONS,

From the Albany Argus.

Sweet's Practical Elocution, designed as a Text and reading

Book in Common Schools and Higher Institutions.

This work is now stereotyped and published by E. II. Pease,
of this city. The author has carefully revised the work, and
made some important additions. The first 54 pages comprise
observations on Elocution, a phonological exhibition of the ele-
mentary sounds of the English language, illustrations and exam-
ples for exercises in articulation, emphasis, quantity, climax,
rhetorical pause, and inflections of the voice. The remaining
25S pases contain 137 pieces for exercise in reading and recita-
tion, selected from the best and purest writings oi the present
and former a?es. To furnish an agreeable variety of exercises
for schools, a" number of pieces have been inserted, which are as
suitable for sinking as for elocutionary reading.

But the peculiar feature of this work, which pre-eminently
distinguishes it from all others on the subject, is, the Explana-
tory Notes attached to each piece. Tnese may be regarded as
the sine-qua-non— the indispensable condition of correct and ele-
gant recitation, and of good reading.

The work appears in a tasteful and substantial form, and does
credit to the publisher.

Notices and Recommendations of

Extract from a Recommendation furnished by S. W. Seton, Esc£.?

Agent of the Public School Society of the city of New York.

Having examined Mr. Sweet's work on Practical Elocution, I
do not hesitate to express my favorable opinion of his system,
believing it to be better adapted to common schools, and every
purpose of rhetorical instruction, than any other. Being
a natural system, it cannot but be both easily comprehended and
practised. It is to be wished, that a system so true to nature
may prevail and give the breath of life to the future orators of
the American forum and senate. The selections for exercise, so
far as I have examined, seem worthy of approval, as tests of
rhetorical skill, and a medium of pure moral impressions. The
explanation of the subject matter of each extract is a useful
guide and model in practice, and the teacher will find it easy to
extend still further such necessary descriptions previous to read-
lag or reciting.

New York, June 17, 1846,

From L. P. Brockett, M. D., of Hartford, Ct.

Sweet's Practical Elocution. — It is with sincere pleasure,
and from a full conviction of its merits, that the writer, after
careful examination, recommends the work of Prof. Sweet, to
the attentton of teachers, and the public. The work possesses
three prominent excellencies, which give it a strong claim upon
the public regard. These are,

1st. This system of Elocution is natural and easy, and at the
same time eminently philosophical ;

2d. The selections are generally new and made with great care
and judgment.

3d. The Historical, Biographical and Critical Notes, appended
to each selection, render the work highly valuable.

As an illustration, take Webster's version of the speech of John
Adams, in defence of the Declaration of Independence. How
does the knowledge of the circumstances in which Adams was
placed, heighten our admiration for his patriotism, and lead us,
imbued with the same spirit, to enunciate those noble senti-
ments, in some measure, as he himself would have done. And
with how much more pathos, can we read that sweet little lyric
of Gen. Morris, " Woodman, spare that tree," after learning the
interesting incident, related on the 148th page. The only won-
der is, that writers on Elocution have not, ere this, perceived
the necessity of this aid, in the delivery of their selections. The
notes, so far as we have had opportunity of verifying them, seem
remarkably free from errors in regard to facts, and the known
reputation of the Profesfor, is sufficient guaranty of the accu-
racy and correctness of his directions for reading. The style in
which the work is brought out, is very creditable to its worthy
publisher, Mr. E. H. Pease.

Hartford, Ct., June 22, 1846.

Sweet's Practical Elocution.

From the Saratoga Republican.

Sweet's Elocution. — With pleasure we announce a new
and greatly improved edition of this valuable school book. It
has already passed through three editions, and now comes to us
in a fourth, revised with the greatest care, and made permanent,
at the stereotype establishment of the Messrs. Davisons, of this
village.

To those who are not acquainted with the book, we would
say, with assurance, that it will meet with approval. Examine
the work. Independent of the admirable directions for speak-
ing and reading, the choice extracts, of which the book is mostly
made up, will well repay the perusal. We hope this book may
be introduced into our schools, and as a consequence, that the
rising generation may be readers and speakers who do not vio-
late every rule of natural elocution.

From the Hon. Alfred Conkling, Judge of the United States
Courts.
Owasco, (near Auburn,) April 26, 1841.
Having examined " Sweet's Elocution," it affords me pleasure
to recommend it for reading and declamation in American
schools. The notes appended to the pieces are instructive and
useful, and render it, in connection with its other merits, prefer-
able to any other work of its kind with which I am acquainted.

ALFRED CONKLING.

From the Hon. Reuben Hyde Walworth, Chancellor of the
State of New- York .

Saratoga Springs, July 28, 1845.
Dear Sir — I have examined your " Practical Elocution, so far
as my time would allow, and am satisfied it is a valuable school
book for the instruction of youth, in the principles as well as the
practice of reading and speaking well. It may also be studied
with profit by most persons who are more advanced in life. I
therefore trust you will be successful in the new edition which
you propose to stereotype. Yours, &c.

R. HYDE WALWORTH.
S. N. Sweet, Professor of Elocution.

From Gov. Seward.

Albany, Nov. 28, 1839.
My Dear Sir — I return you my thanks for your kindness in
sending me a copy of your useful work on Elocution. I have
carefully examined it, and am satisfied that it will prove emi-
nently useful in our public schools. Accept my congratulations.
It ought to be a source of great satisfaction to you that you have,
accomplished a work which will exert a beneficial influence in

Notices and Recommendations of

the education of our countrymen. With sincere wishes for your
continued usefulness, I remain your old friend and obedient ser-
vant, WILLIAM H. SEWARD.
Samuel N. Sweet, Esquire, Professor of Elocution.

The Opinion of Rev. Ika Mayhew, Superintendent of Common
Schools in the county of Jefferson, now Superintendent of Pub-
lic Instruction for the State of Michigan.

Professor Samuel N. Sweet :

Dear Sir — Soon after the first edition of your " Elocution" was
published, I purchased a copy, with the examination of which,
I was so well pleased, that I immediately introduced it as a text-
book into the Seminary, then under my supervision. It was a
favorite work with my pupils, and was by many of them perused
not only with great pleasure but with much profit. Indeed, I
have never known advanced students use any other reading book
with so much of both pleasure and profit. The explanatory
notes accompanying the pieces, add much to the value of the
work.

I remain as ever, yours truly,

IRA MAYHEW.

iidams, Jefferson co., N. Y., January 1, 1843.

The Opinion of the Committee on Books, extracted from the He-
port o their Chairman, Rev. John Sessions, of Sandlake,
made to the County Education Society, of the county of Rensse-
laer, and adopted, June 27, 1845.

•• Sweet's Elocution is sufficiently recommended by being used
in some twenty Academies in the state of New-York, under the
care of the Regents of the University. The elements of good
reading and speaking are forcibly set forth by Professor Sweet,
and the pieces for practice are of the highest order."

The Opinions of Rev. George W. Eaton, D. D., Professor of
Mathematics and Natural Philosophy, and Rev. Asahel C.
Kendrick, A. M., Professor of the Latin and Greek Lan-
guages in the Theological and Literary Institution at Hamil-
ton, N. Y.

11 We have examined ' Sweet's Elocution, ' and we think it is
a very excellent work on that important branch of education.
The pieces which it contains, accompanied as they are by ex-
planatory notes, are well adapted to the purposes of teaching,
and learning reading and oratory. They are moreover of a hig4i
order in their moral tone. We should be glad to see this book
in general use in our institutions of learning.

GEORGE W. EATON,
ASAHAL C. KENDRICK.

Hamilton, Nov. 33d, 1843.

Sweet's Practical Elocution.

From Lorenzo L. Baker, Esquire, Town Superintendent of the
Town of Lee, Oneida County, N. Y.
We have succeeded in introducing more than two hundred co-
pies of Professor Sweet's invaluable work on elocution into the
common schools of the town of Lee. As a finishing reading
book, we must give it a decided preference.

LORENZO L. BAKER.
Lee Centre, February 7th, 1846.

The opinion of the Committee on Books, extracted from their
Report, submitted to the Board of Education of the City of
Rochester, October 5, 1S43, which on motion was adopted and
ordered to be published.

A work entitled " Practical Elocution." by Professor Samuel
N. Sweet, has been laid before the committee. A brief examin".
ation of it has satisfied them that it is a work admirably adapted
to improve pupils in the art of speaking and reading. The se-
lections are from the best writers and speakers the world has
known, and are suited alike to pupils of common schools and
those more advanced. As such, -it is earnestly commended to
the attention of the teachers of Public Schools.

L. K. FAULKNER,
Chairman of the Committee on Books.

The Opinion of the Hon. Mr. Brown.
Professor S. N. Sweet :

Dear Sir — Your " Practical Elocution" is, in my judgment, a
work of superior merit. It contains a very great variety of style
and sentiment, and the selections appear to have been made not
only with much good taste, but with peculiar adaptation to the
design of the work.

A book on Elocution should exhibit the best specimens of
writing in the language, and a book to be used as a reading book
should aim not only to instruct the head but to cultivate the
heart. This your book will do, from the fact that you have
selected from the best and purest writings of the present age,
and of former ages.

There are in this book some pieces of chaste and sterling wit,
some of great pathos, some of extreme beauty and sublimity,
and they are all of great practical utility. The instruction
which the book contains is calculated to be useful to the reader.
This is a consideration very important in a book to be used by
youth.

The book is valuable for the notes of explanation which fol-
low each extract, as well as for the number, variety and excel-
lence of the extracts themselves. I would most cordially recom-
mend this work, not only to schools but to private families ; it if
♦1

Sweetfs Practical Elocution.

interesting and instructive to the general reader, as well as to
the student of Elocution.

Assembly Chamber, Albany, May 6, 1845.

LYSANDER H. BROWN,
Late Dep. Sup't of Jeff, co., and Chairman of the Committee on
Colleges, Academies and Common Schools in the New-York
Legislature.

From the Christian Advocate and Journal.

Practical Elocution, by Prof. S. N. Sweet. — The author
of this work has brought to his assistance an extensive and fa-
miliar acquaintance with the best writers on Elocution, and a
personal knowledge of the principal orators of our county. Be-
sides this, he has brought the fruits of his own practice and ob-
servation, which have been extended for several years, through
many of the states. Professor Sweet has shown himself to be
no theorist. His work is highly practical. His very theory is
practice. He has not attempted to lay down every thing by
rule, but has left something to the dictates of common sense and
taste. Multum in parvo seems to have been the author's motto.

His " Select pieces," which make the second part of his book,
are selected with great ability and good taste from the vast fields
of ancient and modern lore, and are, of themselves, well worth
the price of the book. To these pieces, he has appended notes,
historical and critical, which greatly enhance the value of the
work. The author does not abandon his pupil after the pre-
scription of a few abstract rules, but generously offers to conduct
him through all those varied and difficult exercises by which he
acquires the mastery of the science. This assistance, he has
greatly rendered in his notes.

New-York, Nov. 29, 1839.

Want of room obliges us to omit commendatory notices from
the following, among other popular Journals of the day :

New York Evangelist.

Auburn Journal and Advertiser.

Cayuga Patriot.

Northern Advocate.

New York Tribune.

New York Commercial Advertiser.

Courier and Enquirer.

New Yorker.

SOW WELL AND REAP WELL :

Or Fireside Education. By S. G. Goodrich, author
of Peter Parley' 's Tales. Third Edition. Albany:
Erastus H. Pease. 1S46.

This is the title of a neatly printed and well bound volume of
343 pages, laid upon our table by the publisher. The name of
the author of this excellent work is loo well known to the friends
of Education, both in this country and Europe, to require any
thing- more than a mere announcement of the book. It is emi-
nently practical in all its suggestions, and should be in the hands
of every parent and teacher.

We have only to present a few of the subjects considered, to
indicate the character of the work, to wit: " Provision of Pro-
vidence that the controlling lessons of life shall be given by pa-
rents. The Fireside. Obligations of parents. Leading cha-
racteristics of children. Family Government, &c." There are
but few even of the best educated among parents or teachers,
who would not be greatly benefitted by this work, and we hope,
for the welfare of society, that this book may be widely circu-
lated and carefully read. — Teachers' Advocate.

JMaffit's Magazine, (edited by Rev. J. N. Maffit,) says:
The third edition of this most excellent work, by the far famed
Peter Parley, should be in the possession of every family. In-
deed, when we con its pages, we wonder somewhat how fami-
lies get along without it. It seems so indispensable to young
mothers, aye, and to young fathers too, and we might safely add,
to a great many old ones, that we can never hereafter consider
any family library complete, or any child dealt as fairly with as
it ought to be where this book is wanting. The very preface is
a volume in itself.

A valuable book from the press of E. H. Pease of this city.
The type is very clear and large, and the general execution more
than creditable. The matter is decidedly useful, and what is of
not less importance, narrated in the original vein of the well-
known Peter Parley. The most instructive lessons are soon
forgotten, unless graven upon the memory by some striking pe-
culiarity. The present work is admirably calculated for the
young of both sexes. — Albany Atlas.

Sow Well and Reap Well.

The following is from the American Quarterly Journal of Ag-
riculture and Science, edited by Dr. E. Emmons and A. Osborn,
Esq.

Mr. Goodrich, the author of the work entitled Sovj Well and
Reap Well, is known wherever the young are permitted and
encouraged to read; he has scattered precious seed over the hills
of New England, and upon the prairies of the west and south of
our great country; and even on the shores of Europe it has
fallen, and in his own day he has gathered the mature and rip-
ened fruit. The special object of the author of this work is to
enforce the doctrine, that none need expect to reap a better fruit
than he has sown. The doctriue is based upon a natural law,
and is illustrated and enforced by the common results and expe-
rience of every day.

It is by such books as this circulating throughout our country,
that we hope to see the true ends and aims of life distinctly com-
prehended, and as positively acted upon. And at such times as
these upon which we have fallen, do we need checks to certain
evils which are growing up in the literary and political
worlds.

This work is intended to illustrate " Fireside Education," and
every page is replete with original thought and valuable counsel.
This is the third edition, and is published by E. H. Pease, Book-
seller, State street. We cordially recommend it to all, as a book
to be read with profit. — Albany Citizen.

I have read with great pleasure, Fireside Education, and be-
lieve it is not only much needed, but well calculated to advance
the noblest work of man, the tuition of the heart. — Hon. D. P.
King, of the Mass. Senate.

The exceeding great popularity of Mr. Goodrich's writings
will secure to this work a favorable reception, and indeed it de-
serves such a reception. — Annals of Education.

This work may be read with a vast deal more profit and
pleasure than can be obtained from most books on education.

The principles of morality and intellectual culture are treated
in a style at once simple and familiar. — New England Papers.

A noble work — the author speaks to men, to Americans, and
Christians, in a dignified and powerful manner, and it deserves
the earnest consideration of all. — N. Y. Evangelist.

Sow Well and Reap Well.

Chaste and energetic in style, and every page imparting a
sound and rational philosophy. — Troy paper.

Mr. Goodrich is a great benefactor of the human race. He
has long beon devoted to the benevolent object of establishing a
proper system of education. — New York Paper.

It is written in a style of elegant simplicity, and the subjects
discussed are rendered as brilliant as noonday.

Fireside Education is one of the best books ever published on
this subject.

Simple, concise, and like every thing from the pen of Peter
Parley, exceedingly instructive. — Philadelphia Papers.

Perhaps no volume ever issued from the American press of
greater practical utility than Fireside Education. — Baltimore
Papers.

It mainly teaches, in a most beautiful style, and with pertinent
and interesting illustrations, those truths concerning the forma-
tion of character by domestic influences which have been well
established by the common sense and experience of mankind. —
New-York Observer.

CATECHISM OF

AGRICULTURAL CHEMISTRY

AND GEOLOGY:

By James F. W. Johnston, M. A., F. R. SS. L. & E

loith an Introduction by John Pitkin Norton, of
Farmington, Connecticut.

RECOMMENDATIONS.

From Hon. Samuel Young, Secretary of State, and Superintend-
ent of Common Schools of the State of New York :

I have carefully examined the Catechism of Professor John-
ston, on Agriculture. It is the only scientific work on that sub-
ject I have ever seen, which by its shortness and simplicity is
adapted to the capacity of children; and which, on being illus-
trated by cheap and simple experiments, as he recommends,
cannot fail to make a lasting impression on the juvenile mind.

It gives the analysis of different plants, of animals and of
soils, exhibiting the organic and inorganic substances of which
they are composed, and teaching the important truths that vege-
tables derive a part of their nourishment from the air, and the
remainder from the earth; that different vegetables require dif-
ferent kinds of food, and in variable quantities; that the soil
may be destitute of nutrition for one kind of plant, and not for
another: and the means are explained of supplying to an ex-
hausted or meagre soil its deficiencies. It also gives the ration-
ale of the dairy and the fattening of animals.

This little work is the basis of both agricultural art and sci-
ence. A knowledge of its principles is within the comprehen-
sion of every child of twelve years old ; and if its truths were
impressed on the minds of the }oung, a foundation would belaid
for a vast improvement in that most important occupation which
feeds and clothes the human race. Instead of conjecture, and
hazard, and doubt and experiment, as heretofore, a knowledge
of the composition of soils, the food of plants, and the processes

Agricultural Chemistry and Geology.

of nature in the culture and growth of crops, would elevate agri-
. Culture to a conspicuous rank among the exact sciences.

I hope that parents will be willing to introduce this brief Cat-
echism into the Common Schools of this State.

«, T s- YOUNG.

Albany, 2-ith January, 1845.

Yale College Laboratory, ?
New Haven, Conn., 20th January, 1845. 5

I have read with great pleasure and profit the condensed little
Agricultural Catechism of Prof. James F. W.Johnston of Scot-
land. Like every production of his pen, it is characterized by a
sound, practical good sense, which adds double value to his sci-
entific labors, rendering them available to the very class for
whom they are more especially designed— practical farmers.

I learned with pleasure from Prof. Johnston, that Mr. John
P. Norton was about to edit, with an introduction, his Agricul-
tural Catechism. This American edition should be in "every
village school in the land, as being within the comprehension of
all intelligent children ; and it cannot indeed be too highly re-
commended to the attention of all classes of teachers, as the best
synopsis yet made of the valuable facts and principles which
have been established in the important science of agriculture.

B. SILLIMAN, Jr.

I consider J. F. W. Johnston's Catechism of Agricultural
Chemistry and Geology, to be extremely well adapted to the use
of schools, and that it ought to be introduced as a text-book into
all our rural districts where farming is the principal employ-
ment of the population. The time has come when agriculture
is to be taught as a science as well as cultivated as an art, and a
little book like this sheds more light on the nature of soils, the
elementary principles of plants, and the food necessary for 'their
growth and maturity, in a small compass, than any other publi-
cation I have ever seen. The youthful mind can easily be made
to comprehend the principles it teaches, and we are wanting to
our own and the great interests of our country, if at this time we
do not do all in our power to create a taste and diffuse a know-
ledge of so important a pursuit.

J. P. BEEKMAN,

v. , v , T " Late President of N. Y.S. A. Society.
Kinderhook, Jan. 22, 1845. J

Having examined Professor Johnston's Catechism on Agricul.
tural Chemistry and Geology. I most cordially unite in the re-
commendation of the work. Its introduction into our Common
Schools, will form a new era in the education of our children.
The time has arrived in which every proper effort should be

jgriculturd Chemistry and Geology.

■> 4-^v, tn iV»p yWiq<* generation as will
made to give such an ednca t on to he ^ 5UcceSs,olly to
prepare them ^WP£> which most of them are
follow, the pnn^.^^S^'StjWsut* to do all in my power
designed, ^s"| ™J^L I doubt „ol will produce

aome, Jan. 23d, 1845; _P«,, N. V. State A,. Society,

From (As -am. «ua««ru established, that it is

TherepntaUonomisw^ r 'ojell.esja^ .( ^ .
hardly "pessary at tl^lat-d^ ( ^ p

tainly as nseful to a ,ai e "a-= lain5 all the elements ot

schools. It is Plain, simple, and cr n „ work

agriealtnralchemi^anda.Jone; ,f ^ ^ ^ ^ ord,

„CatrSnraUon*.s oTUtaWj. ^ - pocl;ets, fot iri.
strnStioS, whil'e tlUfteani are ^m^thef arrow. __

Foundei on p* *W^!^^f

COXTENTS-OUTUNE OF THE BISTOnV Mj^fH' j,, Dan.

/. ;„;„v mm treatment, o. ucui^ci «;j»tv. 5.

Lieuer i. -^""c .^^t q Danger rouiuiiis"1 -J

from being i?*™^*^*? SeS wealth, 8. Integrity. 9.
from coming into possession ot grea ■ Sympathy. 13.

Diligence. 10. Economy, ^pg^*^.. 15. Dependence
Forgiveness of Injuries. W^n»i«B n y}rtue crowned
iolpnj 16 Virtue crowned with sal cty. virtue crown-

i^o^^

crowned with heaven. ^^^ ^^ ^—

-^c^iraotioat S^ to a K0M ■

BV Wm. 13- Sprague, D. D. i i«.
CoNTENT!i, Introduction. %£%£^.J£«.

17' Stfenrrn2ie Chrlti" "eal. 22. Improvement of lunc
^"preparation for Death.

PRINTEDINU-S A.