u , Z . 02 Srom 1 0e Zftxtov of (professor TEiffiam JE)enrg <£reen Q&equeaf 0eo fig (Jim to f 0e fei6rarg of (prtncefon £0eofogicaf ^eminarg HQ 1221 .S73 1846 Sprague, William Buell, 179 -1876. 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 http://www.archive.org/details/lettersonpracticOOspra 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, 3 r ou 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 ) T ou 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 } t ou 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 ) T our 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 84 LETTERS TO 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 86 LETTERS TO 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. 90 LETTERS TO 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. 102 LETTERS TO 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 3 t ou 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. 109 LETTERS TO 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 110 LETTERS TO 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 grav r 3 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 w T ill 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 } r ou 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- 284 LETTERS TO 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. 286 LETTERS TO 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 Sweet f s 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 ^ 5UcceS s,olly to prepare them ^W P £> 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 ao m e, 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 „ wo rk agriealtnralchemi^anda.J o ne ; , f ^ ^ ^ ^ ord , „CatrSn r aUon*.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^f H ' j,, Dan . /. ;„;„v mm treatment, o. ucui^ci «;j»t v . 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 cro wned iol p n j 16 Virtue crowned with sal cty. virtue crown- i^o^^ crowned with heaven. ^^^ ^^ ^— -^c^iraotioat S^ to a K0M ■ B V Wm. 13- Sprague, D. D. i i«. CoNTENT !i, Introduction. %£%£^.J£«. 17 ' S tfenr rn 2i e Chrlti" "eal. 22. Improvement of lunc ^"preparation for Death. PRINTEDINU-S A.