{"collection":"philosophy-ethics","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_47621/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_47621","id":"gutenberg_47621","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/47621","summary":null,"tags":["Category: Gender & Sexuality Studies","Category: History - Early Modern (c. 1450-1750)","Category: Parenthood & Family Relations","Category: Philosophy & Ethics","Category: Teaching & Education","Women -- Education"],"text":"FENELON's TREATISE\n\nON THE\n\nEDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS.\n\n\n\n\n[Illustration: Woman reading to girl]\n\n  _Delightful task! to rear the tender thought,\n  To teach the young idea how to shoot._\n\n\n\n\n  FENELON's TREATISE\n\n  ON THE EDUCATION OF DAUGHTERS:\n\n  _TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH_,\n\n  AND\n\n  ADAPTED TO ENGLISH READERS,\n\n  With an Original Chapter,\n\n  \"On Religious Studies.\"\n\n\n  BY THE REV. T. F. DIBDIN, B.A. F.A.S.\n\n  Author of\n  \"_An Introduction to the Knowledge of the best Editions of\n  the Greek and Latin Classics_,\" _&c._\n\n  \"Chaste and modest writings never alter the honour of any gentlewoman.\n  For as the remembrance of infamous persons is much detested and hated\n  by the _Muses_--so is the glory and renown of the virtuous installed\n  by them in eternal memory for ever.\"\n                       PASTORALS OF JULIETTA.  _Fol. Edit._ 1610.\n                                _Pt. 3_, _p._ 88.\n\n  So in this pilgrimage I would behold\n  You, as you are--VIRTUE'S TEMPLE!\n             DONNE'S POEMS.  _Edit._ 1650. _p._ 156.\n                      [_To the Countess of Bedford._]\n\n\n  _CHELTENHAM_:\n\n  PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY H. RUFF: AND SOLD BY\n  LONGMAN, HURST, REES AND ORME, LONDON.\n\n  1805.\n\n\nEntered at Stationers' Hall.\n\n\n\n\n  TO\n  HER GRACE GEORGIANA\n  _DUCHESS OF BEDFORD_,\n  WHOSE AMIABLE DISPOSITION,\n  ACCOMPLISHED MANNERS,\n  AND\n  ELEVATED RANK,\n  _RENDER HER_\n  THE ESTEEM AND ADMIRATION\n  OF\n  _THE GREAT AND THE VIRTUOUS_,\n  This small Tribute\n  OF GRATITUDE AND RESPECT\n  _IS DEDICATED_\n  BY HER OBLIGED\n  AND OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANT,\n\n  H. RUFF.\n\n\n\n\nPREFACE.\n\n\nThe Translation of the following Work was undertaken at the request of\nMr. RUFF, the Publisher, who wished me to paraphrase what I thought\nmight more particularly interest and edify the English reader.\n\nIt is dedicated, by the Publisher, to her Grace the DUCHESS OF BEDFORD\n--and he is anxious that it may be found worthy of her patronage.\n\nThe original French work was first published in 1688; and the earliest\nEnglish translation appeared in 1707. This translation, which was by\nDr. Hickes, I have never seen. In the year 1797, another [anonymous]\nEnglish translation was printed at Hull, in a duodecimo volume. In this\nperformance there is so close an adherence to the idiom of the French\nlanguage, that almost every page abounds with gallicisms. It is not,\nhowever, entirely destitute of merit; but it appears, on the whole,\nto have been hastily executed for the purpose of ensuring a cheap and\nextensive sale.\n\nThe present translation is offered to the public, with a full conviction\nof its inadequacy to give a just idea of the beauty and force of the\noriginal. The author of \"_Telemaque_\" and \"_De l'Education des Filles_\"\nappears, on a comparison of these two performances, very unlike the same\nwriter. In the former, his periods are flowing and luxuriant; in the\nlatter, they are sententious and logical; and nearly as difficult to\nclothe in an English-dress as those of the philosophical Tacitus.\n\nIt will be seen, therefore, that a literal translation has not been\nattempted; and a still greater deviation will be observable, from a\nwish to distinguish it from the translation of 1797. Whether this has\nalways been done for the better, the reader will determine for himself.\n\nThe _Original Chapter_ \"ON RELIGIOUS STUDIES\" has been submitted to\nthose, whose opinions, matured by experience, I have been anxious to\nobtain; and it has received the sanction of their approbation.\n\nIf the Work fail of success, it will not be from the want of spirit in\nthe Publisher; for it is accompanied with considerable beauty of type\nand paper, and elegance of ornament.\n\nThe _design_ is every way worthy of the ingenious artist by whom it was\nexecuted, and who has long been known to the world from the taste and\nfidelity of his pencil. The engraving, by Mr. Freeman, will convince\nthe public that he requires only to be known, to be more generally\nencouraged.\n\n                                                       T. F. D.\n\n  TERRACE, KENSINGTON,\n  _June 2, 1805._\n\n\n\n\nCONTENTS.\n\n\n                                     PAGE.\n  _CHAPTER I._\n  IMPORTANCE OF FEMALE EDUCATION           1\n\n  _CHAPTER II._\n  ERRORS IN ORDINARY EDUCATION             9\n\n  _CHAPTER III._\n  FIRST FOUNDATIONS OF EDUCATION          17\n\n  _CHAPTER IV._\n  THE DANGER OF IMITATION                 33\n\n  _CHAPTER V._\n  INDIRECT INSTRUCTIONS                   37\n\n  _CHAPTER VI._\n  USE OF HISTORY                          87\n\n  _CHAPTER VII._\n  PRINCIPLES OF RELIGION                 106\n\n  _CHAPTER VIII._\n  ON RELIGIOUS STUDIES                   141\n\n  _CHAPTER IX._\n  ORDINARY DEFECTS AMONG GIRLS           163\n\n  _CHAPTER X._\n  VANITY OF BEAUTY AND DRESS             174\n\n  _CHAPTER XI._\n  INSTRUCTION OF WOMEN IN THEIR DUTIES   188\n\n  _CHAPTER XII._\n  CONTINUATION OF THE DUTIES OF WOMEN    203\n\n  _CHAPTER XIII._\n  OF GOVERNESSES                         227\n\n\n\n\nFENELON\n\nON FEMALE EDUCATION.\n\n\n\n\nCHAPTER I.\n\n_On the Importance of the Education of Daughters._\n\n\nThe Education of Girls is, in general, exceedingly neglected:[1] custom,\nand maternal caprice, often appear to have the entire regulation of it.\nIt absolutely seems as if we supposed the sex to be in need of little\nor no instruction. On the other hand, the Education of _Boys_ is\nconsidered as a very important concern, affecting the welfare of\nthe public; and although it be frequently attended with errors and\nmistakes, great abilities are nevertheless thought necessary for the\naccomplishment of it. The brightest talents have been engaged to form\nplans and modes of instruction:--What numbers of masters and colleges\ndo we behold? What expences incurred in the printing of books, in\nresearches after science, in modes of teaching languages, in the\nestablishment of professors? All these grand preparations may probably\nhave more shew than substance, but they sufficiently denote the high\nidea we entertain of the education of Boys. In regard to Girls, some\nexclaim, \"why make them learned? curiosity renders them vain and\nconceited: it is sufficient if they be one day able to govern their\nfamilies, and implicitly obey their husbands!\" Examples are then\nadduced of many women whom science has rendered ridiculous; and on\nsuch contemptible authority we think ourselves justified in blindly\nabandoning our daughters to the conduct of ignorant and indiscreet\nmothers.\n\n [1] It must be remembered that the above sentiment was expressed in\n the year 1688, when the want of a good system of female education\n was  universally felt and regretted. At the present day, we witness\n a noble reverse of things; and whatever theories may have, been\n proposed abroad, we can never cease to admire the labours, and\n applaud the sagacity, of _our_ countrywomen in behalf of their sex.\n\nIt is true, that we should be on our guard not to make them ridiculously\nlearned. Women, in general, possess a weaker but more inquisitive mind\nthan men; hence it follows that their pursuits should be of a quiet and\nsober turn. They are not formed to govern the state, to make war, or to\nenter into the church; so that they may well dispense with any profound\nknowledge relating to politics, military tactics, philosophy, and\ntheology. The greater part of the mechanical arts are also improper for\nthem: they are made for moderate exercise; their bodies as well as minds\nare less strong and energetic than those of men; but to compensate for\ntheir defects, nature has bestowed on them a spirit of industry, united\nwith a propriety of behaviour, and an economy which renders them at once\nthe ornament and comfort of home.[2]\n\n [2] This idea is beautifully expressed in the following lines of\n THOMSON:--\n\n  \"To give society its highest taste,\n  Well-ordered home man's best delight to make;\n  And by submissive wisdom, modest skill,\n  With every gentle care-eluding art\n  To raise the virtues, animate the bliss,\n  And sweeten all the toils of human life:\n  This be the female dignity and praise!\"\n                              _Autumn_, ver. 602-608.\n\nBut admitting that women are by nature weaker than men, what is the\nconsequence? What, but that the weaker they are, the more they stand in\nneed of support. Have they not duties to perform, which are the very\nfoundation of human existence? Consider, it is women who ruin or uphold\nfamilies; who regulate the _minuti\u00e6_ of domestic affairs; and who\nconsequently decide upon some of the dearest and tenderest points\nwhich affect the happiness of Man. They have undoubtedly the strongest\ninfluence on the manners, good or bad, of society. A sensible woman, who\nis industrious and religious, is the very soul of a large establishment,\nand provides both for its temporal and eternal welfare. Notwithstanding\nthe authority of men in public affairs, it is evident, that they cannot\neffect any lasting good, without the intervention and support of women.\n\nThe _world_ is not a phantom, it is _the aggregate of all its families_;\nand who can civilize and govern these with a nicer discrimination than\nwomen? besides their natural assiduity and authority at home, they are\npeculiarly calculated for it, by a carefulness, attention to particulars,\nindustry, and a soft and persuasive manner. Can men promise themselves\nany felicity in this life, if marriage, the very essence of domestic\nsociety, be productive of bitterness and disappointment? and as to\nchildren, who are to constitute the future generation, to what misery\nwill _they_ be exposed, if their mothers ruin them from the cradle?\n\nSuch then, are the occupations of the female sex, which cannot be\ndeemed of less importance to society than those of the male. It appears\nthat they have a house and establishment to regulate, a husband to make\nhappy, and children to rear. Virtue is as necessary for men as for\nwomen; and without entering upon the comparative good or ill which\nsociety experiences from the latter sex, it must be remembered that they\nare _one half of the human race_, REDEEMED BY THE BLOOD OF JESUS CHRIST,\nAND DESTINED TO LIFE ETERNAL.\n\nLastly, let us not forget that if women do great good to the community\nwhen well educated, they are capable of infinite mischief when viciously\ninstructed. It is certain that a bad education works less ill in a male,\nthan in a female breast; for the vices of men often proceed from the\nbad education which their mothers have given them, and from passions\nwhich have been instilled into them at a riper age, from casual\nintercourse with women.\n\nWhat intrigues does history present to us--what subversion of laws\nand manners--what bloody wars--what innovations in religion--what\nrevolutions in states--all arising from the irregularities of women?\nOught not these considerations to impress us with the importance of\nfemale education? Let us, therefore, discuss the various means of\naccomplishing so desirable an object.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. II.\n\n_Errors in the Ordinary Mode of Education._\n\n\nIgnorance is one of the causes of the _ennui_ and discontent of young\npersons, and of the absence of all rational amusement. When a child has\narrived at a certain age without having applied to solid pursuits, she\ncan have neither taste nor relish for them. Every thing which is serious\nassumes to her mind a sorrowful appearance; and that which requires a\ncontinued attention, wearies and disgusts her. The natural inclination\nto pleasure, which is strong in youth--the example of young people of\nthe same age, plunged in dissipation--every thing, in short, serves to\nexcite a dread of an orderly and industrious life. In this early age,\nshe wants both experience and authority to take a decided part in the\nmanagement of household affairs; she is even ignorant of the important\nconsequences resulting from it, unless her mother has previously\ninstructed her in some of its departments. If she be born to affluence,\nshe is not necessitated to undergo manual toil: she may probably work\nan hour or two a day, because she hears it said, without knowing why,\nthat \"it is proper for women to work\"--but this pithy proverb will\nonly produce the semblance, without the substance, of real useful\napplication.\n\nIn such a situation what is she to do? The society of a mother, who\nnarrowly watches, scolds, and thinks she is performing her duty in not\noverlooking the least fault--who is never satisfied, but always trying\nthe temper, and appears herself immersed in domestic cares; all this\ndisgusts and torments her. She is, moreover, surrounded with flattering\nservants, who, seeking to insinuate themselves, by base and dangerous\ncompliances, gratify all her fancies, and direct her conversation to\nevery topic but that of goodness and virtue. To her, piety appears an\nirksome task--a foe to every rational amusement. What, then, are her\noccupations? None that are useful. Hence arises a habit of indolence,\nwhich at length becomes incurable.\n\nMeantime what is to fill this vacuity? Nothing but the most frivolous\nand contemptible pursuits. In such a state of lassitude, a young woman\nabandons herself to pure idleness; and idleness, which may be termed\na languor of the soul, is an inexhaustible source of weariness and\ndiscontent. She sleeps one-third more than is necessary to preserve\nher health: this protracted slumber serves only to enervate and render\nher more delicate; more exposed to the turbulency of passion; whereas\nmoderate sleep, accompanied with regular exercise, produces that\ncheerfulness, vigour, and elasticity of spirits, which form, perhaps,\nthe true criterion of bodily and mental perfection.\n\nThis weariness and idleness, united with ignorance, beget a pernicious\neagerness for public diversions; hence arises a spirit of curiosity, as\nindiscreet as it is insatiable.\n\nThose who are instructed and busied in serious employments, have,\nin general, but a moderate curiosity. What they know gives them an\nindifference for many things of which they are ignorant; and convinces\nthem of the inutility and absurdity of those things, with which narrow\nminds, that know nothing, and have nothing to exercise themselves upon,\nare extremely desirous of becoming acquainted.\n\nOn the contrary, young women, without instruction and application, have\nalways a roving imagination. In want of substantial employment, their\ncuriosity hurries them on to vain and dangerous pursuits. Those who have\nsomewhat more vivacity, pique themselves on a superior knowledge, and\nread, with avidity, every book which flatters their vanity: they become\nenamoured of novels, plays, and \"Tales of Wonder,\" in which love and\nlicentiousness predominate: they fill their minds with visionary\nnotions, by accustoming themselves to the splendid sentiments of heroes\nof romance, and hence are rendered unfit for the common intercourse of\nsociety; for all these fine airy sentiments, these generous passions,\nthese adventures, which the authors of romance have invented for\nmere amusement, have no connexion with the real motives which\nagitate mankind, and direct the affairs of the world; nor with those\ndisappointments which usually accompany us in almost every thing we\nundertake.\n\nA poor girl, full of the tender and the marvellous, which have delighted\nher in her reading, is astonished not to find in the world real\npersonages, resembling the heroes she has read of--fain would she live\nlike those imaginary princesses, whom fiction has described as always\ncharming, always adored, and always beyond the reach of want. What\ndisgust must she feel on descending from such a state of heroism, to\nthe lowest offices of housewifery!\n\nSome there are who push their curiosity still further, and without the\nleast qualifications, presume to decide upon theological points.--But\nthose who have not sufficient grasp of intellect for these curiosities,\nhave other pursuits, better proportioned to their talents: they are\nextremely desirous of knowing what is said, and going on in the world--a\nsong--news--an intrigue--to receive letters, and to read those that\nother people receive; these things delight prodigiously; they wish\nevery thing to be told them, and to tell every thing in turn: they are\nvain, and vanity is a sure incentive to talk. They become giddy, and\nvolatility prevents those reflections from rising which would shew them\nthe value of silence.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. III.\n\n_Of the First Foundations of Education._\n\n\nTo remedy the evils just complained of, it is of material consequence to\ncommence a system of education from _Infancy_: this tender period, which\nis too often intrusted to imprudent and irregular women, is, in truth,\nthe most susceptible of the strongest impressions, and consequently has\na great influence on the future regulation of life.\n\nAs soon as children can lisp, they may be prepared for instruction: this\nmay be thought paradoxical--but only consider what a child does before\nit can talk. It is learning a language which it will, by and by, speak\nwith more accuracy, than the learned can speak the dead languages,\nalthough studied at a mature period of life. But what is the learning a\nlanguage? It does not consist solely in treasuring in the memory a great\nnumber of words--but in comprehending, says St. Austin, the meaning of\neach particular word: the child, amidst its cries and amusements, knows\nfor what object each word is designed: this is obtained sometimes by\nobserving the natural motions of bodies which touch, or shew, the objects\nof which one is speaking--sometimes by being struck with the frequent\nrepetition of the same word to signify the same thing. It cannot be\ndenied but that the brain of children is admirably calculated, from\nits temperament, to receive impressions from all these images; but what\nstrength of mental attention is requisite to distinguish them, and to\nunite each to its proper object?\n\nConsider too, how children, even at such a tender age, attach themselves\nto those who flatter, and avoid those who restrain, them: how well they\nknow to obtain their object by a tear, or silent submission: how much\nartifice and jealousy they already possess! \"I have seen,\" exclaims St.\nAustin, \"a jealous child: it could not speak; but its face was pale, and\nthe eyes were irritated against an infant that suckled with it.\"\n\nFrom this it may be inferred, that infants know more at such an early\nperiod than is usually imagined: thus, by soft words and appropriate\ngestures, you may incline them towards honest and virtuous connexions,\nrather than introduce them to those which it would be dangerous for\nthem to caress.--Thus, again, you may, by appropriate looks and tone\nof voice, represent to them, with horror, those whom they have seen\nexasperated with anger, or any other furious passion; and, on the other\nhand, by a correspondent serenity of manner, depicture to them those who\nare amiable and wise.\n\nI do not wish to lay too great a stress on these subordinate matters:\nbut, in reality, these different dispositions form a commencement of\ncharacter which must not be neglected; and this mode of foreseeing,\nas it were, the future dispositions of children, has imperceptible\nconsequences which facilitate their education.\n\nIf we still doubt of the power of these early prepossessions on future\nmaturity, we need only call to mind how lively and affecting, at an\nadvanced age, is the remembrance of those things which have delighted\nus in childhood. If, instead of terrifying the minds of young people\nwith absurd notions of ghosts and spirits, which serve only to weaken\nand disturb the still delicate texture of the brain: if, instead of\nabandoning them to the caprice of a nurse for what they are to like or\ndislike, we endeavoured always to impress on their minds an agreeable\nidea of good, and a frightful one of evil--this foresight might\nhereafter be the foundation of every practical virtue. On the contrary,\nwe frighten them with the idea of a clergyman clothed in black--we\ntalk of death merely to excite terror--and recount tales of the dead\nrevisiting the earth, at midnight, under hideous shapes! All this has\na tendency to weaken and agitate the mind, and to excite a prejudice\nagainst the soundest doctrines.\n\nOne of the most useful and important things during infancy is, to be\nparticularly careful of the child's health; endeavouring to sweeten\nthe blood by a proper choice of food, and a simple regimen of life:\nregulating its meals, so that it eat pretty nearly at the same hours,\nand as it feels the inclination; that the stomach be not overloaded\nbefore digestion takes place, and that no high-seasoned dishes be\nintroduced, which must necessarily give a disrelish for more healthful\nfood. Lastly, too many dishes should not be allowed at the same time;\nfor such a variety of food begets an appetite even after the real call\nof hunger is satisfied.\n\nAnother very important consideration is, not to oppress the faculties\nby too much instruction; to avoid every thing which may kindle the\npassions; to deprive a child, gently and by degrees, of that for which\nit has expressed too vehement a desire to obtain; so that, eventually,\nit may be insensible of disappointment.\n\nIf a child's disposition be tolerably good, it may, by the foregoing\nmethod, be rendered docile, patient, steady, cheerful, and tranquil;\nwhereas, if its tender years be neglected, it becomes restless and\nturbulent during the remainder of its life; the blood boils, bad habits\nare formed, and the body and mind, both equally susceptible, become\nprone to evil. Hence arises a sort of second original sin, which, in\nadvanced age, is the source of a thousand disorders.\n\nAs soon as children arrive at a more mature period, or their reason\nbecomes unfolded, we must be careful that all our words have a tendency\nto make them love truth, and detest artifice and hypocrisy. We ought\nnever to be guilty of any deception or falsehood to appease them, or to\npersuade them to comply with our wishes: if we are, we instruct them in\ncunning and artifice; and this they never forget. Reason and good sense\nmust be our instruments of regulation.\n\nBut let us examine with a little more attention the exact dispositions\nof children, and what more particularly regards their treatment. The\nsubstance of their brain is soft, but it becomes harder every day: it\nhas neither experience nor judgment to discriminate one object from\nanother, and every thing is, therefore, new to them. From this softness\nand pliability of the brain, impressions are easily made; and the\nsurprize which accompanies novelty, is the cause of their continual\nadmiration, and extreme curiosity. It is true that this ductility of the\nbrain, attended with considerable heat, produces an easy and constant\nmotion; hence arises that bustle and volatility of youth, which is as\nincapable of fixing the attention on one object, as it is of confining\nthe body to one spot.\n\nAgain, children are incapable of thinking and acting for themselves;\nthey remark every thing, but speak little; unless they have been\naccustomed to talk much--an evil, against which we must be constantly on\nour guard. The pleasure which we derive and express from the sight of\n_pretty children_, spoils them; for they are, in consequence, accustomed\nto utter every thing which comes uppermost, and to talk on subjects\nof which they have no distinct ideas; hence is formed an habit of\nprecipitately passing judgment, and of discussing points they are\nincapable of comprehending; an unfortunate circumstance! and which,\nprobably, adheres to them through life.\n\nThis admiration of _pretty children_ has another pernicious consequence;\nthey are sensible that you look at them, watch all their actions, and\nlisten to their prattle, with pleasure--hence they flatter themselves\nthat all the world must follow your example.\n\nDuring this period, when applause is perpetually bestowed, and\ncontradiction seldom obtruded, children indulge chimerical hopes, which,\nalas! are the source of endless disappointments throughout life. I have\nseen children who always fancied you were talking about them, whenever\nany thing was privately said--and this, forsooth, because it has\n_sometimes_ actually been the case: they have also imagined themselves\nto be most extraordinary and incomparable beings. Take care, therefore,\nthat in your attentions to children, they are unconscious of any\nparticular solicitude on your part: shew them that it is from pure\nregard, and the helplessness of their condition to relieve their\nown wants, that you interest yourself in their behalf--and not from\nadmiration of their talents. Be content to form their minds, by degrees,\naccording to each emergency that may arise: and if it were in your\npower to advance their knowledge much beyond their years, even without\nstraining their intellect, by no means put it in practice; recollect\nthat the danger of _vanity_ and _arrogance_ is always greater than the\nfruit of those premature educations which make so much noise in the\nworld.\n\nWe must be satisfied to follow and assist nature. Children know little,\nand should not be stimulated to talk: but the consequence of this\nignorance is, they are continually asking questions. We should,\ntherefore, answer them precisely, and add sometimes little comparisons,\nwhich may throw light on the information we give them. If they judge of\nsome things without sufficient knowledge, they should be checked by a\nnew question, which might make them sensible of their error without\nrudely confounding them; at the same time take care to impress on their\nminds, not by vague praises, but by some effectual mark of esteem,\nthat they afford much more satisfaction when they _doubt_, and _ask\nfor information_, on points they do not know, than when they happen to\ndecide rightly. This is the sure method to implant in them a true sense\nof modesty and politeness; and to excite a contempt for those idle\ncontroversies in which ignorant young folks are too apt to indulge.\n\nAs soon as we begin to watch the dawn of reason spreading, we should\nseize it as a favourable opportunity to guard them against presumption:\n\"You see,\" we should exclaim, \"that you are much more reasonable and\ntractable than you were last year--and in the _following_ year you will\nobserve things yet more clearly than you do at present--if, during the\nlast year, you were eager to have passed judgment on things which you\nnow know, and were then ignorant of, you would assuredly have judged\nwrong. You would therefore have been to blame in offering opinions on\nsubjects above the reach of your intellect. There are, at this moment,\nmany things which remain for you to know; and you will one day be\nconvinced how imperfect are your _present_ conceptions. Nevertheless,\nadhere to the counsel of those who judge of things as you yourself would\njudge, were you gifted with their years and experience.\"\n\nAs the curiosity of children is a faculty which precedes instruction, we\nshould be careful to make them profit by it. For example, in the country\nwhen they see a mill, they wish to know what it is--here, then, you\nmay shew them how that food is prepared which nourishes man. A little\nfurther they perceive reapers--and you must explain to them their\noccupation; how they sow the grain, and how it multiplies in the earth.\nIn the town they see a number of shops, where various trades are\nexercised, and various merchandize is sold. Never consider their\nquestions as importunate; they are overtures which nature makes to\nfacilitate instruction--shew them, therefore, that you take pleasure in\nthese questions--for, by such means, you teach them insensibly how every\nthing is made, which conduces to the comfort of man, and extension of\ncommerce. By degrees, and without any particular study, they become\nacquainted with every article that is useful, and with the price affixed\nto each, which is, indeed, the true foundation of economy. This kind of\nknowledge, which no one should despise, because no one is willing to be\ncheated from the want of it, is particularly necessary for women.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IV.\n\n_The Danger of Imitation._\n\n\nThe ignorance of children, (in whose brain no correct impressions are\nmade,) renders them extremely susceptible, and inclined to imitate every\nthing they see. It is, therefore, of consequence to set before them none\nbut the very best models of imitation; and to make them acquainted with\nthose, by whose examples they would be profited in following. But as it\nhappens, in spite of all our precautions, that they occasionally witness\nmany irregularities, we must not fail to warn them betimes against the\nimpertinence of certain foolish and dissipated people, whose reputation\nis scarcely worth preserving: we must shew them how truly miserable and\ndeserving of contempt, are those who abandon themselves to passion,\nwithout cultivating their reason. One may also give them, a correct\ntaste, free from affectation, and make them sensible of the true value\nof modesty and decorum; we must not even abstain from guarding them\nagainst probable errors, although by this means we may open their eyes\nto certain defects in those whom they are taught to respect. We have\nneither right nor reason to hope that they will remain ignorant on such\npoints, and therefore the best method to pursue, in order to keep them\nto their duty, is, to persuade them to bear with the faults of others;\nnot to pass too severe a sentence on them, as they often appear greater\nthan they really are--that they are even compensated for by many good\nqualifications--and that as there is no perfection in this world, they\nshould admire that which approaches the nearest towards it. Lastly,\nalthough this advice should not be offered but in extreme cases, we\nshould, nevertheless, engraft on them _true principles_, and preserve\nthem from imitating all the evil that is set before them.\n\nWe must also be on our guard to prevent their imitation of _ridiculous\npeople_; whose low and buffoon-like manners have something in them\nextremely revolting to noble and generous sentiments; we should be\napprehensive lest children afterwards assume these very manners; as\nthe warmth of their imagination, and pliability of body, added to the\npleasure they seem to take in such diversion, gives them a peculiar\naptitude to represent every ridiculous object they behold.\n\nThis proneness to imitation, which is natural to children, is the source\nof infinite mischief when they are delivered up to improper people who\nare hardly able to restrain themselves before them. But providence has\nordained this imitative power, that children may be also capable of\napplying themselves to what is good and virtuous. Often, without\nspeaking to them, we have only to _shew_ them in others what we would\nhave them do themselves.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. V.\n\n_Indirect Instructions: we should not be too urgent with Children._\n\n\nI think we should often make use of _indirect_ instructions, which are\nnot so tedious and uninteresting as lessons and remonstrances, in order\nto excite their attention to certain examples which are placed before\nthem.\n\nA person may sometimes ask another, in their presence, \"Why do you\ndo so\"--and the other may answer--\"I do it for such a reason.\" For\nexample--\"Why did you confess your fault?\" \"Because I should have been\nguilty of a much greater one by disavowing it with a lye\"--and because\nnothing is more praiseworthy than to say frankly, \"I am wrong.\" Then the\nfirst person should commend the one who has thus accused herself--but\ncare must be taken that all this be done without art or affectation, for\nchildren have much more penetration than we are aware of--and as soon as\nthey discover any finesse in their teachers, they lose that simplicity\nand confidence which is natural to their character.\n\nWe have before observed that the brain of children, from being at the\nsame time moist and warm, produces continual motion. This softness or\npliancy of the brain causes impressions to be easily made, and images\nof every sensible object to be vividly and strongly imprinted; hence\nwe should be anxious to engrave, as it were, on their minds such\ncharacters as are easily formed. But great care must be shewn in the\nselection of such objects as we wish to impress: for in so small and\nprecious a cabinet, none but the most exquisite furniture should be\nadmitted. Let it be remembered, that at such a tender age, no knowledge\nshould be engrafted but such as we wish to remain there for life.\nThe first impressions that are made, when the brain is so soft and\nsusceptible, are in general the most durable; and in proportion as age\nhardens the brain, do such impressions become indelible. Hence it is,\nthat in old age we remember distinctly the images of youth, however\nremote; whereas as age advances we have a fainter recollection of such\nthings as we progressively behold, because the impression has been made\non the brain when it is gradually hardening, and filled with other\nimages.\n\nAlthough we understand how to reason in this manner, we have some\ndifficulty in acceding to it: and yet we absolutely do make use of this\nvery mode of reasoning. For instance, do we not say every day, \"My\nhabits are fixed, I am too old to change them, I have been brought up\nin this way.\"--Moreover are we not conscious of a singular pleasure\nin recalling to mind the images of youth? are not the strongest\npropensities formed at that age? Does not, therefore, all this prove\nthat the first impressions and first habits are the strongest? If\ninfancy be the fittest period for engraving such images on the brain,\nit must be allowed that it is the least so for the cultivation of\nreason. That ductility of the brain which causes impressions to be\neasily formed, being united with extreme heat, produces an agitation\nwhich sets all regular application at defiance.\n\nThe brain of children may be compared to a lighted wax taper, situated\nin a place which is exposed to the wind--its flame is perpetually\nflickering. A child asks you a question, and before you can answer, its\neyes are directed towards the cieling: it counts all the figures that\nare carved there, or all the bits of glass which compose the window: if\nyou wish to bring it back to the first subject of discussion, you vex\nit as much as if you confined it in prison. Thus great care is required\nin managing the organs before they assume a determined inclination:\nanswer every question promptly, and leave the child to put others as\nit pleases. Gratify only the curiosity which it evinces, and lay up in\nthe memory a mass of sound materials. The time will come, when these\nimpressions will be regularly arranged, and the brain having more\nconsistency, the child will reason on the consequences. Nevertheless, be\nattentive to correct when the reasoning is fallacious; and to convince\nit, without embarrassment, as an opportunity offers, in what a wrong\nconsequence consists.\n\nLet a child amuse itself freely, and mingle instruction with amusement:\nlet wisdom be introduced at proper intervals, and under an agreeable\nform; and take care not to fatigue it by a precision which is both\nformal and injudicious.\n\nIf a child entertains sad and dismal notions of virtue, if liberty and\nirregularity present themselves in a seducing manner, every thing is\nlost, and your labour is in vain. Never suffer it to be flattered by\nlittle contemptible associates, or people without character or worth: we\nnaturally love the manners and sentiments of those whom we regard; and\nthe pleasure which is sometimes taken in the company of disreputable\npeople, begets, by degrees, a love of those pernicious habits which\nrenders _them_ so truly contemptible.\n\nIn order to conciliate children to people of real estimable character,\nmake them reflect on their excellence and utility, their sincerity,\ntheir modesty, their disinterestedness, their fidelity, their discretion,\nbut above all their _piety_, which is the foundation of the rest.\n\nIf a child has any thing about it revolting or offensive, you must\nobserve to it that \"piety does not produce such defects: when it is\nperfect, it destroys, or at least softens them.\" But, after all, we\nmust not persist in making children admire certain pious characters\nwhose exterior deportment is disgusting.\n\nAlthough you are particularly anxious to regulate your own conduct with\nthe utmost circumspection and nicety, do not imagine that children will\nfancy you faultless: oftentimes your slightest imperfections will be\nnoticed by them.\n\nSt. Austin informs us that he had remarked, from his infancy, the vanity\nof his tutors. The best and most politic thing you can do, is, to know\nyour own faults as completely as a child will know them, and to request\nsome real friend to warn you of them. The generality of instructors\npardon nothing in a pupil, but every thing in themselves: this excites\nan inquisitive and watchful spirit of malignity in such pupils--so that\nwhenever they detect any fault in their tutor, they are delighted, and\neventually despise him.\n\nShun this error: do not be afraid to mention the faults which are\nvisible in your conduct, and which may have escaped you before the\nchild. If you find her capable of reasoning thereupon, observe that you\nset her an example of correcting her faults, by the detection of your\nown--by this means, your imperfections will be instrumental in edifying\nthe child, and encouraging her to correct herself. You will also thereby\navoid the contempt and disgust which your own faults may cause her to\nentertain against your person.\n\nMeanwhile, try every method to make those things agreeable which you\nexact from a child. Have you any thing crabbed or difficult to propose?\nconvince her that this pain will be succeeded by pleasure: always shew\nthe utility which results from your instructions; and make her sensible\nof the consequences as affecting mankind, and the different orders of\nsociety. Without this, all study will appear as a dry, barren, and thorny\npath. \"Of what use,\" will children sometimes say to themselves, \"is it\nto learn those things which do not relate to ordinary conversation, and\nwhich have no immediate connection with what we are _obliged_ to do?\"\n\nWe should therefore give them a reason for every thing we teach--\"It is,\nwe should observe, to enable you one day to do well in the world--it is\nto form your judgment, and to make you reason well on all the affairs of\nlife.\" We should always represent to them some useful and solid _end_,\nwhich may support them in their application: and never pretend to keep\nthem in subjection by a crabbed and absolute authority.\n\nIn proportion as their reason advances, we should discuss with them on\nthe necessity of education; not that we should implicitly follow their\nthoughts, but profit by them when they discover their real state of\nmind: so that we may try their discernment, and make them relish those\nthings we are anxious for them to learn.\n\nNever assume, without urgent necessity, an austere and imperious\nmanner, which only causes children to tremble, and savours strongly\nof affectation and pedantry in those who govern: children are, for the\ngreater part, timid and diffident. By such means you shut out all access\nto the heart, and deprive them of a confidence, without which no benefit\ncan be derived from instruction. Make yourself beloved: let them be\nfree with you, so that they fear nothing in discovering their faults.\nIn order to attain this, be indulgent to those who do not disguise\nthemselves before you. Appear neither astonished nor irritated at\ntheir bad propensities: on the contrary, bear with their foibles. This\ninconvenience may, however, sometimes arise, that they will be less\nintimidated; but, taking all things together, confidence and sincerity\nis of far greater utility than a rigorous discipline.\n\nBesides, authority will lose its proper effect, if confidence and\npersuasion are not equally strong. Always commence with an open and\ncandid manner; be cheerful and familiar without vulgarity, which enables\nyou to see children conduct themselves in a perfectly natural state, and\nto know their inmost character. If even you should succeed in all your\nplans by the force of authority alone, you will not gain the proper end:\nyou will disgust them in their search after goodness, of which you ought\nsolely to endeavour to inspire them with admiration.\n\nIf the wisest man has recommended parents to hold the rod continually\nover the heads of their children, if he has said that a father who\n\"spareth his child\" will repent it hereafter--it does not follow that\nhe has censured a mild and lenient mode of education. He only condemns\nthose weak and inconsiderate parents who flatter the passions of their\nchildren, and who only strive to divert them in their infancy, so that\nthey are guilty of all sorts of excess. The proper conclusion seems to\nbe that parents ought to preserve authority sufficient for correction;\nfor there are some dispositions which require to be subdued by fear\nalone; but let it be remembered that this should never be enforced\nunless every other expedient has been previously applied.\n\nA child who merely follows the capricious impulse of imagination, and\nwho confounds every thing which presents itself to her mind, detests\napplication and virtue, because she has taken a prejudice against the\nperson who speaks to her concerning them.\n\nHence arises that dismal and frightful idea of religion, which she\npreserves all her life: and which, alas! is often the only wretched\nremnant of a severe system of education. We must frequently tolerate\nmany things which are deserving of immediate punishment, and wait for\nthe opportunity when the feelings of a child dispose it to profit by\ncorrection.\n\nNever rebuke a child in the first moments of passion, whether on your\nside or hers. If on yours, she will perceive that, you conduct yourself\naccording to caprice and resentment, and not according to reason and\naffection: you will, in consequence, irretrievably lose your authority.\nIf you correct in the first gust of her passion, her mind is not\nsufficiently collected to confess her fault, to conquer her feelings,\nand to acknowledge the importance of your advice: such a mode may even\nhazard your pupil's respect for you. Always let the child see you are\nmistress of your own feelings; and nothing can effect this so much\nas _patience_. Watch every moment, each day, when correction may be\nwell-timed. Never tell her of a fault, without, at the same time,\nsuggesting some mode of redressing it, which will induce her to put it\nin practice; for nothing is more to be avoided than that chagrin and\ndiscouragement which are the consequence of mere formal correction. If a\nchild is discovered to be a little rational, I think you should win it\ninsensibly to _wish_ to have its faults disclosed, as this would be the\nway of making it sensible of them, without causing affliction: never,\nhowever, recount too many faults at a time.\n\nWe should consider that children have a tender intellect, that their\nage makes them susceptible chiefly of pleasure, and that we often\nexpect from them a correctness and seriousness of deportment, which\ntheir instructors are sometimes incapable of evincing. A very dangerous\nimpression of _ennui_ and sadness is produced on their mind, by\nperpetually talking to them of words and things which they do not\nunderstand: no liberty, no amusement! always lesson, silence,\nconstraint, correction, and threats!\n\nOur ancient forefathers knew better. It was by the charm of verses and\nmusic that the Hebrews, Egyptians, and Greeks, introduced the principal\nsciences, the maxims of virtue, and the politeness of manners. Without\nreading, people scarcely believe these things, so distant are they from\npresent custom! nevertheless, little as history is known, there is\nnot a doubt but that this was the common practice for many centuries.\nHowever, let us so far correct our own age, as to unite the agreeable\nand the useful together, as much as lay in our power.\n\nBut although we can hardly hope to lay aside _awe_ with the generality\nof children, whose dispositions are headstrong and untractable, we\nshould, nevertheless, not have recourse to it without having patiently\ntried every other experiment. We should even make them distinctly\nunderstand the extent of our demands, allowing a certain medium with\nwhich we should be satisfied: for good-humour and confidence should be\ntheir natural disposition--otherwise we damp their spirit, and daunt\ntheir courage: if they are lively, we irritate; if dull, we stupify\nthem.--Fear may be compared to violent remedies employed in extreme\ncases--they purge, but they alter the temperament, and reduce the organs\nto extremity. A mind governed by fear, is generally the weaker for it.\n\nWe should not always menace without chastising, for fear of rendering\nmenace of no avail; but we should menace more frequently than we\nchastise. As to chastisement, the pain inflicted ought to be as slight\nas possible--but accompanied with every circumstance which can prick the\nchild with shame and remorse. For example, shew her every thing you\nhave done to avoid coming to this unpleasant extremity--appear to be\neven affected at it--speak to her, in the presence of others, of the\nmelancholy state of those whose want of reason and good conduct have\nforced correction upon them; and keep back the ordinary marks of\nreconciliation, till you see she stands in need of consolation. This\nchastisement may be either public or private, as it may benefit the\nchild--either in covering her with shame, or shewing her how she has\nbeen spared such a mortification--a _public_ exposition should, however,\nnever be resorted to but in the last extremity. It may be as well\nsometimes to make use of a rational person to perform the office of\nmediator--who might console the child, and mention such things which\nwould be improper for yourself to do--who might cure her of false\nshame, and induce her to come to you for reconciliation--and to whom the\nchild, in the emotions of her heart, would open herself more freely than\nshe would dare to do to yourself. Above all, let it be manifest that you\nnever exact from a child more than necessary submission: endeavour to\neffect it so that she may pass her own condemnation, and that you have\nlittle else to do but assuage the anguish she has herself inflicted.\nGeneral rules ought to be adopted as particular occasions may justify:\nmen, and especially children, do not always resemble themselves--that\nwhich is good to-day, may be bad to-morrow; a conduct stubbornly uniform\ncan never be advantageous.\n\nThe fewer formal lessons that are inculcated, the better. A thousand\nmodes of instruction may be adopted in the freedom of conversation,\nmore useful than lessons themselves. I have known many children who\nhave learnt to read during their play; we need only relate to them some\ndiverting story from a book opened in their presence, and make them\ninsensibly become acquainted with their letters; after this, they will\nthemselves be anxious to arrive at the source which has afforded them\nsuch amusement.\n\nThere are two circumstances which spoil every thing; namely, teaching\nthem at first to read in a foreign tongue[3]--which takes away all\npleasure in reading; and making them read with a forced and ridiculous\nemphasis. Give them a book handsomely bound, with neat cuts, and printed\nwith a fine type; every thing which delights the fancy, facilitates\nstudy: we should even let them have a book full of short and marvellous\nstories. After this, do not be uneasy about the child's learning to\nread--do not fatigue her by requiring too great a precision; let her\npronounce naturally as she speaks: other tones are always bad, and\npartake of the declamation of the stage. When the tongue has acquired\nsufficient volubility, the chest strength, and the habit of reading been\nconfirmed, she will then read without pain, and with more grace and\ndistinctness.\n\n [3] Fenelon says the _Latin_ tongue: but this is not practised in\n England.\n\nThe manner of teaching to write should be pretty nearly the same. When\nchildren can read a little, one may amuse them in making them sort the\nletters; and if there are several pupils, emulation may be kindled.\nChildren are naturally inclined to make figures on paper; and if this\npropensity be encouraged, without teasing them too much, they will form\nletters during their play, and accustom themselves by degrees to write.\nOne may also encourage them by the promise of a reward adapted to their\ntaste, and which has no unpleasant consequences.\n\n\"Write me a note,\" you may say, \"inform your brother or cousin of\nsuch and such things:\" all this (varied as you like) pleases a\nchild, provided that no sad idea of a formal lesson intrude. \"A free\ncuriosity,\" says St. Austin, from his own experience, \"excites the\nmental faculties of a child, much more than the formality of rules,\nor a constraint imposed by fear.\"\n\nObserve this grand defect in ordinary educations--all pleasure is placed\non one side, and pain on the other: the latter is attached to study, the\nformer to play. What then can be expected from a child, but that, in\nsupporting one of these maxims, she will eagerly fly to her amusements?\n\nLet us try to invert this order: let us make study agreeable, concealing\nit under the form of liberty and pleasure: the dull routine of continued\napplication may be sometimes broken in upon by little sallies of\namusement. Children require these relaxations to preserve the elasticity\nof their mind.\n\nLet their imaginations roam a little. Permit occasionally some game or\ndiversion, so that ample bounds be given to their spirits; then bring\nthem gently back again to the principal object you have in view. Too\nrigid or too long continued an application to study, is productive\nof much injury: those who affect this regularity, act more from the\nconvenience of stated hours of discipline, than from wishing to seize\nevery favourable moment of instruction. At the same time, do not\nsuffer any amusement which may agitate the passions of children: on\nthe contrary, every thing which can unbend their faculties, produce an\nagreeable variety, satisfy a curiosity for useful things, and exercise\ntheir body in healthful recreations, should be recommended and practiced\nin their diversions. The amusements which they like best, are those\nthat keep the body in motion; they are happy if they can but skip from\nplace to place: a shuttle-cock or a ball is sufficient. We should not,\nhowever, be uneasy about their diversions; they invent quite enough\nthemselves--it is sufficient if we leave them to their own inventions,\nwatch them with a cheerful countenance, and moderate them when they\nbecome too violent. It would be prudent just to make them sensible, as\nmuch and as often as we can, of the pleasure which results from the\ncultivation of the _mind_; such as conversation, news, histories, and\nmany industrious games which include instruction. All this will have\nits proper effect in due time: but we should not force the feelings of\nchildren on this subject; we should only make overtures to them. The\nperiod will arrive when their bodies will be inclined to move less, and\ntheir minds, more.\n\nThe care which is taken to season study with amusement, will operate\nfavourably in abating the ardour of youth for dangerous diversions. It\nis subjection and _ennui_ that beget an impatience for amusement. If a\ndaughter felt less restraint in the presence of a mother, she would not\nbe so anxious to steal away in search of indifferent society.\n\nIn choosing diversions, care must be taken to avoid all suspicious\ncompanions. Boys must not mingle with girls; even girls of an unruly\nand froward disposition must be rejected. Games which excite passion,\nand thoughtlessness, or which produce an improper attitude of the\nbody--frequent visiting abroad, and conversations which give rise to\nsuch visits--should be uniformly avoided. When a child is not spoilt\nby any rude diversion, or is not stimulated by any ardent passion, it\nwill easily find pleasure and content: health and innocence are the\nsure sources of both: but those who have been accustomed to violent\namusements, lose all relish for moderate pleasure, and weary themselves\nin a restless search after happiness.\n\nThere may be a satiated taste for amusements, as well as for food: one\nmay be so accustomed to high-seasoned dishes, that a simple and common\ndiet will become flat and insipid. Let us, therefore, be on our guard\nagainst those violent exercises, which in the end produce _ennui_ and\ndisgust: above all, they are to be particularly dreaded in regard to\n_children_; who are less capable in suppressing their feelings, and\nwho wish to be in perpetual motion. Let us manage them so as to excite\na taste for simple things: that great preparations of food be not\nnecessary for their nourishment, nor violent diversions for their\namusement. A moderate fare always creates a sufficient appetite,\nwithout being obliged to pamper it with _made dishes_, which produce\nintemperance. \"Temperance,\" says an ancient writer, \"is the best\ncontriver of luxury: with this temperance, which begets health of body\nand mind, one always enjoys a soft and tranquil emotion--there is no\nneed of trick or public shew, or expense, to make one happy: some little\ndiversion, or reading, or labor--a walk, or innocent conversation, which\nrelaxes after toil--all or any of these produce a purer delight than is\nfelt from the most exquisite music.\"\n\nIt is true, simple pleasures are less lively and interesting than\nviolent ones, which elevate the soul, and affect all the sources of\npassion. But simple pleasures have a better tendency; they produce an\nequal and lasting joy, without any bitter consequence. They are always\nof real service, whereas violent ones may be compared to adulterated\nwine, which pleases at first, but which eventually injures the health.\nThe very temperament of the soul, as well as the taste, is affected by\nseeking after such violent and seductive pleasures. All that you can do\nfor children who are under your regulation is, to accustom them to such\na simple life as has been just described; to fortify them in such habits\nas long as you can, to make them foresee the evil consequences attached\nto other amusements, and not to abandon them to _themselves_; as is too\ncommonly the case, at an age when their passions begin to be shewn, and\nwhen, consequently, they stand in need of greater restraint.\n\nIt must be allowed, that of all the vexations incidental to education,\nnone can be compared with that which is experienced in the rearing of\na _stupid_ child. Those who have strong lively natural capacities are,\nindeed, liable to terrible irregularities--passion and presumption\nmaster them entirely; but, on the other hand, they have great resources,\nand may be easily checked, however turbulent. Education is, in them,\na concealed but vegetating germe, which sometimes bears fruit when\nexperience comes to the aid of reason, and when the passions begin to\ncool. At least we know how to make them attentive, and awaken their\ncuriosity: they have something in them which makes them take an interest\nin their lessons, and stimulates their sense of honour--whereas one has\nno sort of pleasure or gratification in the instruction of _stupid_\nchildren. All their thoughts are distracted: they are never where they\nought to be: the most poignant correction has no effect on them: they\nhear every thing, and feel nothing. This indolence and stupidity makes\na child negligent and disgusted with every thing she does. She is\nin such a case, that the _best mode_ of education runs a risk of\nmiscarrying, if we do not guard against the evil, from earliest infancy.\nMany people who have little depth of penetration, conclude, from this\nbad success, that nature does _every thing_ in the formation of men of\nmerit, and education _nothing_--instead of remarking that there are\ndispositions, like barren soils, on which cultivation produces little.\nIt is yet more lamentable when these knotty systems of education have\nbeen thwarted or neglected, or badly regulated at the beginning.\n\nWe must not forget that there are many dispositions among children, in\nwhich we are likely to be deceived. They appear at first interesting,\nbecause there is attached to early youth a certain fascinating lustre\nwhich covers every thing: we, at first, perceive nothing but what is\ntender and amiable, and this prevents a closer examination of the\nfeatures of the mind. Every sally of their wit surprises us, because we\ndo not expect it at such an age: every error in judgment is permitted,\nand it has, moreover, the charm of ingenuity: they assume a certain\nvivacity of deportment, which never fails to pass for sprightliness and\nintellect. Hence it is, that childhood often promises much, but realises\nlittle. Such a one was celebrated for her wit at five years of age, but\nnow, in proportion to her growth, she has fallen into obscurity and\ncontempt! Of all the qualities which children possess, there is but\none on which you can calculate with certainty, and that is, _good\nsense_: this \"grows with their growth,\" provided it be well cultivated.\nThe graces of infancy fade away--its vivacity diminishes--and that\ntenderness of heart even becomes blunted, in proportion as the passions\nand an intercourse with designing men harden young people on their\nentrance into the world. Strive, therefore, to discover midst the graces\nof childhood, whether the disposition you have to manage be deficient\nin curiosity, and insensible of honest emulation. If this should be the\ncase, it is almost impossible for every one concerned in her tuition,\nnot to be disgusted with so rugged and ungrateful an occupation. Every\nqualification of a child should be roused and brought into action, in\norder to extricate it from so fatal a lethargy. If, however, you foresee\nany such consequences about to follow, do not at first be anxious to\nurge any serious application: take care not to overcharge her memory,\nfor it is that which stuns and stupifies the brain: do not harass her\nwith unpleasant regulations: make her as cheerful as you can, because\nshe labours under the opposite extreme of presumption: do not be afraid\nof shewing her, with discretion, the extent of her powers: be satisfied\nwith little at a time: make her remark the smallest success: shew her\nhow absurd it is to be afraid of not succeeding in that which she really\ndoes well: set her emulation to work. Jealousy is more violent among\nchildren than we are aware of: we often see some who are absolutely\nfretting and wearing away, because others are more beloved and caressed\nthan themselves. Mothers are often cruel enough to fan this jealous\nflame, which, however, is of service in extreme cases of indolence and\nstupidity--but then you should set before the child the examples of\nthose who are but _very little_ superior--for disproportionate examples\nof those who are greatly superior, serve only to discourage and dismay.\n\nLet her, occasionally, gain some little victories over those of whom\nshe is jealous: make her, if you can, laugh heartily with yourself at\nher timidity: and set before her those, equally timid with herself, who\nhave conquered their disposition to fear: make her sensible, by indirect\ninstructions, and the example of others, that timidity and idleness\ndestroy all the mental energies; but be careful not to give these\ninstructions in an austere and impetuous manner: nothing wounds the\ninmost feelings of a mild and timid child so much as boisterous\ntreatment: on the contrary, let the application which becomes\nindispensible, be seasoned and relieved by such little circumstances of\namusement and recreation as are suited to her disposition. Perhaps it\nwill be sometimes necessary to check her by reproaches; but this should\nnot be done by yourself: employ some inferior person, or another child,\nwithout appearing yourself to be acquainted with it.\n\nSt. Austin relates, that his mother was once reproached by a servant\nfor drinking pure wine; an ill habit which she had contracted from her\ninfancy, and of which she was cured by the servant's reproach, though\nall the vehemence and severity of her governess was unable to effect it.\nIn short one should endeavour to excite _a taste_ in the minds of such\nsort of children, in like manner as one tries to excite it in the palate\nof those who are sick. _They_ are permitted to have any thing which may\ncure their loathing; they are indulged in many whims at the expence of\ncertain prescribed rules, provided it be not carried to a dangerous\nexcess. It is much more arduous to create a taste in those that are\nvoid of one, than to regulate the taste of those who have not a correct\none.\n\nThere is another kind of sensibility extremely difficult and important\nto impress them with, and that is, _friendship_. As soon as a child is\nsusceptible of it, there can be no doubt but that you should turn her\nheart towards those who may be useful to her. Friendship will give her\nevery accomplishment that you desire; you have then a certain tie on\nher, if you know how to regulate it: excess, or a bad choice, are the\nonly things you have to dread. There are, however, some children who are\nborn cunning, reserved, and callous, and who bring every thing home, as\nit were, to their own bosoms: they deceive their parents, whom fondness\nhas made credulous: they _appear_ to love them: they regulate their\ninclinations to conform to them: they _seem_ more docile than other\nchildren of the same age, who indulge, without restraint, in all their\nhumours and follies: their suppleness, or rather hypocrisy, which\nconceals a savage temper, assumes a softness of character; and their\nreal disposition does not discover itself till it is too late to reform\nit.\n\nIf there really be any child on whom education is incapable of producing\na good effect, it is one of the foregoing description; and it must\nbe allowed that the number is greater than we imagine. Parents bring\nthemselves with difficulty to believe that their children have a bad\nheart: when they shut their _own eyes_ upon them, no other person will\nhave the courage to convince them of it; and thus the evil is hourly\naugmenting. The principal remedy is, to place children, from their\nearliest infancy, in such a situation where their tempers may be\ndiscovered without disguise. Always know the very bottom of their heart,\nbefore you correct them. They are naturally simple and open; but as soon\nas you plague them, or give them an example of disguise, they will no\nlonger return to their original simplicity. It is true, that a good\nand tender-hearted disposition comes from God alone; _we_ can only\nendeavour to excite it by generous examples, by maxims of honour and\ndisinterestedness, and by a contempt of those people who set too high a\nvalue on themselves. We must endeavour to make children betimes sensible\nof the most natural modes of conduct, and of the pleasure arising from\na cordial, and reciprocal friendship. Nothing so much conduces to this\nend, as an intercourse with people who have nothing about them harsh,\nsevere, low, or selfish: children might better associate with those who\nhave other faults, than with those who possess the foregoing ones. We\nshould praise them for every thing they do on the score of friendship,\nprovided it be not misplaced or too violent. Parents must likewise\nappear to them to be animated with the sincerest friendship towards\nthem; for children oftentimes learn of their parents to have no\naffection for any one object. In short I would check, before friends,\nall superfluous compliments, all artificial demonstrations of esteem,\nand all feigned caresses: for by these things you teach them a great\ndeal of deceit towards those whom they ought to regard.\n\nThere is a very common fault among girls, the opposite to what we have\nbeen mentioning; namely, the affecting to be uncommonly struck and\ndelighted with the most insignificant things. They cannot see two people\nwho are both equally bad, without taking the part, in their hearts, of\none against the other. They are full either of affection or aversion,\nwithout the least cause: they perceive no defect in what they esteem,\nand no one good quality in what they despise. You must not, at first,\nmake a formidable opposition to all this--for contradiction will only\nfortify them in their vagaries: but observe, by degrees, to a young\ngirl, that you know better than herself what good there is in that\nwhich she likes, and what evil in that which she detests. Take care\nalso, occasionally, to make her sensible of certain defects which are\nsometimes found in the object of her regard, and of certain good\nqualities which are discernible in that of her hatred: do not be too\nurgent: press her not too much, and you will find that she will come\nto herself, and coincide with your sentiments. After which, make her\nreflect on her past caprices, and the most unreasonable circumstances\nattending them: tell her, gently, that she will by and bye see those\nof which she is not yet cured, when they cease to act. Recount to her\nsimilar errors of _your own_ when you was of her age. Above all, shew\nher as clearly, and as sensibly as you can, that good and evil are\ninherent in every object of our love and aversion: this will repress\nher ardour in the indulgence of either the one or the other.\n\nNever promise children, by way of reward, fine clothes or dainties; this\nhas two direct evils attending it: the first will teach them to set\na value on what they ought to despise; the second deprives you of an\nopportunity of establishing _other_ rewards which would facilitate your\nlabour. Be on your guard against threatening them to make them study, or\nsubjecting them to any formal rule. Make as few rules as possible: and\nwhen there is an absolute necessity for one, make it pass lightly under\nthe child's notice, without giving it such a name; and always give some\nreason why a thing is done at one time and in one place, rather than\nin another. You run a risk of disheartening children if they are not\npraised when they have done well. Praise may sometimes be apprehended on\naccount of its exciting vanity; but it should nevertheless be employed\nto animate, not to intoxicate, children.\n\nWe find that St. Paul has often made use of it, in encouraging the weak,\nand in softening his reproaches. The Fathers have also made the same use\nof it. It is true, that to make it serviceable, it must be so tempered\nthat it take away all exaggeration, and flattery, and that the good\nresulting from it be attributed to God alone, as the source. Children\nmay be recompensed by innocent and industrious games; by walks and\nrecreations, in which conversation may take a useful turn: by little\npresents which may be a kind of prize--as pictures, prints, medals, maps\nof geography, or gilt books.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VI.\n\n_Of the Use of History for Children._\n\n\nChildren are passionately fond of marvellous tales: one sees them every\nday transported with joy, or drowned in tears, at the recital of certain\nadventures. Do not fail to profit by this propensity. When you find them\ndisposed to listen to you, relate to them some short and pretty fable:\nbut choose some ingenious and harmless one respecting animals: repeat\nthem just as they are composed, and shew them the moral resulting\ntherefrom. As to _pagan fables_, a girl will be happy in her total\nignorance of them, as they are extremely indelicate and replete with\nimpious absurdities. If, however, you are not able to keep a child\nignorant of them, impress her with a sense of their horror. When you\nhave repeated one fable, wait till you are asked to begin another--thus\nleaving the child hungry, as it were, for more mental food. When\ncuriosity is at last excited, recount certain choice histories, but in\nas few words as possible: connect them together, and postpone the sequel\nfrom one day to another, so that you keep the children in suspense, and\nimpatient to know the termination. Be animated and familiar in your\nmanner of repeating--make the personages speak--and children, who have\na lively imagination, will fancy they hear and see them. For instance,\nrelate the history of Joseph--make his brothers speak like brutal\ncharacters, but Jacob like a tender and afflicted father--then let\nJoseph himself speak--taking pleasure, as being at the head of an\nEgyptian establishment, in concealing himself from his brothers--in\nmaking them afraid of him; and, at last, in discovering himself to them.\nThis natural representation, joined to the extraordinary circumstances\nof the history, will delight a child; provided she be not teased with\ntoo many similar recitals. You may let her express a desire for such\nstories, and promise them as a recompense for a prudent conduct,\nprovided they assume not the form of study--provided the child is not\n_obliged_ to repeat them; for these repetitions, if not voluntarily\nundertaken, will discompose and fret her, and take away all pleasure\narising from such sort of narrations.\n\nIt must be observed that if a child has any facility in speaking, she\nwill, of her own accord, relate to those whom she likes, such histories\nas have pleased her most: but do not let her make a rule of it. You may\nemploy some one, who is on a footing of perfect intimacy with the child,\nto appear anxious to learn of her a particular story: the child will\nbe delighted in repeating it. Do not appear yourself to listen very\nearnestly to it--let her go on as she likes, without checking her in\nher faults. The consequence will be, that when she is more accustomed\nto repeat, you may gently make her sensible of a better manner of\nnarrating, by rendering it short, simple, and easy; and by a choice of\ncircumstances better calculated to represent forcibly the nature of\neach thing. If you have many children, accustom them by degrees to\n_represent_ the historical characters whom they read of--one may be\nAbraham, the other, Isaac. These representations will charm them more\nthan any other games--will accustom them to think, and to utter serious\nthings with pleasure--and will indelibly fix such histories on their\nmemory.\n\nWe should strive to give them a taste for scriptural history rather than\nfor any other; not in _telling_ them that it is finer, which they will\nprobably not believe--but in causing them to _feel_ it to be so. Make\nthem observe how important, wonderful, and curious those histories are:\nhow full of natural representation, and a spirit of noble simplicity.\nThose of the creation, the fall of Adam, the deluge, the call of\nAbraham, the sacrifice of Isaac, the adventures of Joseph (which have\nbeen briefly discussed), and the birth and flight of Moses, are not only\ncalculated to awaken the curiosity of children, but in discovering to\nthem the origin of religion, fix the foundations of it in their bosoms.\nWe must be strangely ignorant of the essential parts of religion not to\nobserve that they are chiefly historical: it is by a tissue, as it were,\nof marvellous facts that we discover its establishment, its perpetuity,\nand all that can induce us to believe and to practice it. It is not to\nbe supposed that by all this we wish children to be plunged into profound\nknowledge--on the contrary, these histories are short, various, and\ncalculated to please the meanest capacity. The Almighty, who best knows\nthe faculties of that being whom he has created, has clothed religion in\n_popular facts_, which, far from overpowering the simple, assists them\nin conceiving and retaining its mysteries. For example, tell a child,\nthat in God there are three equal persons, but of one nature: by the\nhabit of hearing and repeating these terms, she may retain them in her\nmemory; but I doubt whether she will understand the sense of them.\nRelate to her that as Jesus Christ went up out of the waters of Jordan,\nthe Almighty caused these words to be heard--\"This is my beloved son in\nwhom I am well pleased--hear him:\" add, that the Holy Ghost descended\non our Saviour, in the form of a dove--and thus, you make her sensible\nof the TRINITY, in a history which she will never forget. Here are\n_three persons_ which she will distinguish by the difference of their\nactions; you have nothing more, therefore, but to inform her that all\nthese together make but one God. This example is sufficient to shew the\nuse of history. Although it may _seem_ to make instruction more tedious,\nit really abridges it; and renders the dryness of catechism, where\nmysteries are detached from facts, unnecessary. We may observe that\nhistory was an ancient mode of instruction. The admirable method which\nSt. Austin has pointed out for the instruction of the ignorant, was\nnot suggested by that father alone--it was the universal method and\npractice of the church: it consisted in shewing, by a succession of\nhistorical facts, religion to be as ancient as the world--Jesus Christ\nconspicuous in the Old Testament, and pervading every part of the New:\nwhich, in truth, is the foundation of christian instruction.\n\nAll this demands a little more time and care than are devoted to the\nusual habits of instruction with which many people content themselves:\nbut in adopting such a mode, religion will be truly taught; whereas,\nwhen children are not so instructed, they have only confused ideas of\nJesus Christ, the Gospel, the church, of the necessity of absolute\nsubmission to its decrees, and of the foundation of those virtues\nwith which the christian character should inspire us. The _historical_\ncatechism, which is simple, short, and more perspicuous than the\nordinary catechism, includes every thing necessary to be known\nthereupon--so that it need not be said that much study is necessary.[4]\n\n [4] I have omitted the remark which here follows--because it alludes\n to the catechism of the _Council of Trent_, with which we have\n nothing to do in this country.\n\nLet us now add to the facts before mentioned from scripture, the passage\nof the Red Sea, and the sojourning of the people in the desert--where\nthey ate bread which fell from heaven, and drank water which Moses\ncaused to flow from the rock, by striking it with his rod. Represent the\nmiraculous conquest of the promised land, where the waters of Jordan\nwent backwards toward their source, and the walls of a city fell down\nof themselves in the sight of the besiegers. Describe, in as natural\ncolours as possible, the combats of Saul and David: and how the latter,\na youth, without arms and habited like a shepherd, became the conqueror\nof the fierce and gigantic Goliah. Do not forget the glory and wisdom of\nSolomon: how he decided between the two women who disputed about a\nchild--but do not forget to impress on the mind, how he fell from this\nheight of wisdom; dishonouring himself by an effeminacy, which is almost\nthe inevitable consequence of overgrown prosperity.\n\nNext make the prophets, as delegated from heaven, converse with kings:\nshew how they read the future as if in a book: how they suffered\ncontinual persecution for having spoken the truth. Speak, in\nsuccession, of the first destruction of Jerusalem--represent the temple\nburning, and the holy city in ruins on account of the sins of the\npeople. Relate the Babylonian captivity, and how the Jews wept \"when\nthey thought on Sion.\" Before their return, represent the interesting\nadventures of Tobit, Judith, Esther, and Daniel. It may not be amiss to\nlet children give their opinion on the different characters of these\nholy persons, to know which of them they admire the most. One will\nprefer Esther, the other Judith--and this may excite a little\ncontroversy between them, which will impress those histories more\nstrongly on their minds, and form their judgments thereupon. Afterwards,\nbring back the Jews from captivity to Jerusalem, and make them repair\ntheir desolated city; then paint, in smiling colours, the peace and\nhappiness which succeeded. Shortly you will have to draw a picture of\nthe cruel Antiochus, who died in false repentance: describe, under this\npersecutor, the victories of the Maccabees, and the martyrdom of the\nseven brothers of that name.\n\nDescend regularly to the miraculous birth of St. John: and relate, more\nin detail, that of our Saviour Jesus Christ: after which you must select\nin the four Gospels all the remarkable occurrences of his life--his\npreaching in the temple at twelve years of age--his baptism--his retreat\nand temptation in the desert--the calling of the apostles--the miracle\nof the loaves--the conversion of the sinful woman, who anointed the\nfeet of our Saviour with a precious perfume--washed them with her tears,\nand dried them with her hair. Represent the Samaritan woman instructed;\nLazarus restored to life; and Christ's triumphant entry into Jerusalem.\nNext describe his passion, and his resurrection from the tomb.\nAfterwards make them remark the familiarity with which he continued\nforty days with his disciples, until they saw him ascend into heaven.\nNext will follow the descent of the Holy Ghost; the stoning of Stephen;\nthe conversion of St. Paul; and the calling of the centurion Cornelius:\nthe voyages of the apostles, and particularly of St. Paul, are _yet_\nextremely interesting. Select the most wonderful histories of the\nmartyrs, and give a general outline of the celestial life of the first\nchristians: mingle with it the courage of young virgins, the astonishing\nausterity of those who led a solitary life, the conversion of emperors\nand of the empire, the blindness of the Jews, and the punishment which\nyet awaits them.\n\nAll these histories (managed with discretion) of the whole series of\nreligion, from the creation to the present time, would make an agreeable\nimpression on the lively and tender minds of children; and would fill\nthem with such noble ideas of it as would never be forgotten. They would\neven see, in this narration, the hand of God always lifted up to protect\nthe good, and to punish the wicked. They would accustom themselves\nto behold the Almighty, working all in all, secretly directing the\nmovement of creatures however remote from himself. But care must be\ntaken to select such passages in these histories as afford the most\nbeautiful and magnificent images; for every faculty must be employed to\nshew religion to children adorned with every thing amiable, pleasing,\nand august; and not to represent it, as is too commonly the case, as\nsomething sad and disagreeable.\n\nBesides the inestimable advantage of teaching religion in this manner to\nchildren--such a series of pleasant histories, which they learn betimes\nto remember, awakens their curiosity for serious things; makes them\nsensible of the pleasures of the mind, and excites an interest in the\nhearing of _other_ histories which have some connection with those they\nalready know. But again I repeat, never make a _rigid law_ that they\nshould hear and retain these things--much less let them be inculcated as\n_regular lessons_: for the pleasure which they take in such recitals\nshould be _voluntary_, and without this, nothing important can be\neffected. Do not urge them much--you will attain the desired end, even\nwith ordinary understandings:[5] you have nothing to do but exercise\ntheir capacities _moderately_, and let their curiosity be excited, by\ndegrees. But you will say, how are those histories to be repeated in a\nlively, short, natural, and agreeable manner? Where are the teachers\nwho can accomplish such a thing? To this I answer, that I propose it\nonly that you should _endeavour_ to choose persons of an excellent\nunderstanding to govern your children, and that they be gifted, as\nmuch as possible, with this method of teaching: every governess will\nundertake it in proportion to her talents. But if there be only a\ncandour and openness of intellect, the thing will go on with good effect\nwhen children are formed to this manner, which is natural and simple.\n\n [5] I may be permitted to add, that if children do not discover any\n propensity to these studies, we should neither neglect nor despise\n them; provided their dispositions and conduct be good and regular in\n other matters. Besides, nothing conclusive can, at first, be drawn\n from their inattention to these subjects; for a child at _twelve_\n years of age may evince as great a _regard_ for them, as she did\n _indifference_, at _ten_. There is little consistency in the human\n intellect at such a volatile period: the girl of gaity and\n dissipation at _eighteen_, may become the devotee at _five and\n twenty_.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\nTo discourse or description, may be added the sight of _pictures_, which\nrepresent sacred subjects. Prints will be sufficient, which may be\npreserved for ordinary use--but when an opportunity offers of shewing\na child _good paintings_, it must not be neglected: for the force of\ncolouring, and the grandeur of composition, will strike the imagination\nwith greater effect.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VII.\n\n_Of Inculcating Principles of Religion in the Minds of Children._\n\n\nIt has been before observed that the first years of childhood are not\ncalculated for reasoning: not that children are divested of those ideas\nand general principles of reason which hereafter become manifest, but\nthat they are ignorant of many facts, which hinders the application of\ntheir reason; and, moreover, leaves that agitation of the brain, which\nprevents them from connecting their ideas.\n\nWe should, however, without pressing them, gently direct the use of\ntheir reason towards a knowledge of God. Persuade them of Christian\ntruths, without giving them subjects of doubt. They observe some one to\nbe dead: they know that burial afterwards follows: say to them--\"Is\nthis dead person in the tomb?\" \"_Yes._\" \"He is not then in paradise?\"\n\"_Pardon me, he is._\" \"How can he be in the grave and in paradise at the\nsame time?\" \"_It is his soul which is in paradise--his body only in the\ngrave._\" \"His soul and body then are not the same thing?\" \"_No._\" \"The\nsoul, therefore, is not dead?\" \"_No--It will live for ever in heaven._\"\nAdd: \"And you, do you wish to be saved?\" \"_Yes._\" \"But what is being\nsaved?\" \"_It is the soul's going into paradise._\" \"And what is death?\"\n\"_It is the mouldering of the body into dust, when the soul has left\nit._\"\n\nI do not pretend to say that children may _at first_ be taught to answer\nin this manner: though I may add that many have given me such answers\nwhen they were four years of age. Let us, however, suppose a child to be\nextremely reserved and uninstructed:--the worst that can happen is, the\nwaiting only a few more years with patience.\n\nShew children a house, and make them comprehend that this house did not\nbuild itself. The stones or bricks, say you, were not elevated without\nsome one's carrying them so high. It may be as well, too, to shew them\nthe masons at work: then make them contemplate heaven and earth, and the\nprincipal things which God has made for the use of man: say to them \"how\nmuch more beautiful and better made is the world than a house! Was it\nmade of itself? No--assuredly it was made by the hands of the Almighty.\"\n\nFirst follow the method of scripture. Strike their imaginations in as\nlively a manner as possible--propose to them nothing which may not be\nclothed with sensible images. Represent God as seated on a throne--with\neyes more brilliant than the rays of the sun, and more piercing than the\nlightning--represent him with ears that hear every thing; with hands\nthat support the universe; with arms always stretched out to punish the\nwicked; and with a tender and paternal heart to make those happy who\nlove him. The time will come when this information may be rendered more\nexact. Observe every opening of the mind which a child presents to you:\ntry her by different methods, so that you may discover how these great\ntruths will best occupy her attention. Above all, talk of nothing new,\nwithout familiarising her to it by some obvious comparison.\n\nFor example--ask her if she would rather die than renounce Jesus\nChrist--she will answer--_Yes_. Then say--\"how, would you suffer your\nhead to be cut off in order to enter paradise?\" _Yes._ The child will\nnow think she has sufficient courage to do it. But you, who are willing\nto make her sensible that nothing can be effected without _grace_,\nwill gain nothing, if you merely say that grace alone is sufficient to\nproduce faithfulness--the child does not understand those words; and if\nyou accustom her to repeat them without understanding them, you gain\nnothing by it. What then is to be done? Relate to her the history of St.\nPeter: represent him saying, in a presumptuous tone of voice--\"I will\nfollow thee even unto death, though all the rest should desert thee,\nyet will I never abandon thee.\" Then describe his fall: he denies his\nmaster, Christ, three times--even a servant makes him tremble. Declare\nwhy God permitted this weakness--then make use of the comparison of a\nchild or sick person who cannot walk alone--and make her comprehend,\nthat as an infant must be supported in the arms of its nurse, so we\nstand in need of the Almighty's assistance. Thus you will make her\nsensible of the mystery of grace.\n\nBut the most difficult truth for a child to comprehend is, that we have\na soul more precious than our body. Children are at first accustomed to\ntalk about the soul; and the custom is advantageous--for this language,\nwhich they do not understand, is perpetually exciting them to have a\n(confused) notion of the distinction of body and soul, until they are\nable really to conceive it. In proportion as early prejudices are\npernicious when they lead to error, so are they useful when they conduct\nthe imagination to truth, until reason is gradually directed towards\nit by the force of principles. But, at length, we must fix _a true\npersuasion_--and how are we to set about it? Is it in plunging a young\ngirl in philosophical subtleties? Nothing is worse calculated for it.\nWe must confine ourselves to render clear and distinct to her mind, what\nshe hears and speaks every day.\n\nAs to her _person_, she is perhaps too well instructed in the knowledge\nof _that_: every thing induces her to flatter, adorn, and idolise it. An\nessential point is gained if you can inspire her with contempt for it,\nby observing something of greater value about her.\n\nSay then to a child who is capable of a little reasoning--Is it your\nsoul that eats? If she answers absurdly, do not be harsh with her--but\ntell her mildly that the soul does not eat--It is the body that\neats--the body, which resembles the brutes. Have brutes intellect--are\nthey learned? _No_, the child will answer. But they eat, you will add,\nalthough they have no intellect: you see, therefore, that it is not the\nsoul which eats--it is the body which takes food to nourish it--it is\n_that_ which walks, and which sleeps. And what does the soul do? It\nreasons--it knows every one--it loves certain things, and dislikes\nothers. Go on, in a playful manner, \"Do you know this table?\" _Yes._\n\"You know it then?\" _To be sure._ \"You see clearly that it is not made\nlike that chair, which is formed of wood, and not like the chimney\npiece, of stone?\" _Yes_, the child will reply. Proceed no farther\nwithout being convinced, by her tone of voice, and by the child's eyes,\nthat these simple truths have struck her. Then say--But does this\ntable know you? You will see that the child will begin laughing, and\nridiculing, as it were, such a question.--No matter: go on--Which\nloves you the best, that table or that chair? She will still keep\nlaughing--but pursue the discourse--Is the window very wise? Then try\nto go further--Does this doll answer you when you speak to it? _No._\nWhy--has it no intellect? _No, none._ It is not then like you; for you\nknow it, and it does not know you. But after death, when you will be\nunder the ground, shall not you be like this doll? _Yes._ You will no\nlonger feel any thing? _No._ You will no longer know any body? _No._ And\nyour soul will be in heaven? _Yes._ Will it not then see God? _True, it\nwill._ And where is the soul of the doll at present? You will perceive\nthat the child will answer with a laugh--or at least that it will make\nyou understand the doll has no soul.\n\nUpon this foundation, and by means of these simple illustrations,\nenforced at different times, you may accustom the child, by degrees,\nto attribute both to the body and the soul, that which is peculiar to\neach--provided you do not indiscreetly propose to her consideration,\ncertain actions which are common to the one and the other. All subtilty\nmust be avoided, as it perplexes truth; and we must content ourselves\nto point out, with care and correctness, those circumstances that mark\ndistinctly the difference between the body and soul. Sometimes one meets\nwith such stupid characters, whom even the help of a good education will\nnot assist in the comprehension of these truths: however, they may be\nsometimes clearly _conceived_, without being perspicuously expressed.\nGod sees better than we do into the spirit of man, what is there placed\nfor the knowledge of his mysteries.\n\nWith respect to those children in whom we discover a mind capable of\nfurther researches, one may, without throwing them into a study which\nsavours too much of philosophy, make them conceive, according to their\ninclination, what is meant when it is said that God is a spirit, and\nthat the soul is also a spirit. I think that the best and most simple\nmethod of making them conceive this spirituality of God and of the soul,\nis, to make them remark the difference between a dead and living man: in\nthe one, there is nothing but a body; in the other, the soul is united\nwith the body. Afterwards you may shew them that that which is capable\nof reasoning, is more perfect than that which has mere form and motion.\nThen illustrate, by various examples, that no body perishes--that it\nis only separated: thus, pieces of burnt wood fall into charcoal, or\nevaporate in smoke. If then, you will add, that which is of itself only\ncharcoal (incapable of knowing and thinking) perishes not--how much more\nshall the soul, which is capable of both knowledge and thought, endure\nfor ever! The body may die--that is to say, may quit the soul and shrink\ninto dust--but the soul will live; for it will always have the faculty\nof thinking.\n\nThose who instruct children, should develop, as much as possible, these\ntruths, which are the foundation of all religion. But if success should\nnot crown their exertions, especially with dull obstinate children,\nlet them hope that God will enlighten internally. There is, however,\na sensible and practical way of confirming this knowledge of the\ndistinction between body and soul--and that is, accustom children to\ndespise the one, and regard the other, throughout their manners and\nintercourse with the world. Praise that instruction which nourishes the\nsoul and causes it to expand: esteem those great truths which animate it\nto become wise and virtuous. Despise luxury of diet and dress, and every\nthing which enervates the body: make them sensible how much honour, a\ngood conscience, and religion, are above these sensual pleasures. By\nthe force of such sentiments, without reasoning upon the body and the\nsoul, the ancient Romans taught their children to despise the body, and\nto sacrifise it to every thing which could inspire their minds with the\npleasure of virtue and glory. With them, it was not simply persons of\nhigh birth, it was the entire mass of the people who lived temperately,\ndisinterestedly, despising life, and sensible only of honour and wisdom,\nwhich excited their applause or imitation. When I speak of the ancient\nRomans, I mean those who lived before the extension of their empire had\ncorrupted their simplicity of manners.\n\nLet it not be said that children are incapable of receiving these\nprejudices from education. How often do we discover certain maxims which\nhave been established among us, against the impression of our senses, by\nthe force of custom alone. For instance, that of duelling--founded on\na false principle of honour. It is not by reasoning, but by taking for\ngranted, without reasoning, the maxim to be established on a principle\nof honour, that life is exposed, and that every man who carries a sword\nlives in continual danger. Those who have no quarrel may have one every\nmoment with certain people, who are seeking every pretext to signalize\nthemselves in some duel. However moderate one may be, such moderation is\nhardly preserved, without violating that false honour, which will not\nsuffer you to avoid a quarrel by an explanation, or to refuse becoming\nthe second of some one who has an inclination to fight. What authorities\nhave not failed in eradicating so barbarous a custom! See, therefore,\nhow powerful are the prejudices of education--But how much more powerful\nwill they be on the side of virtue, supported by reason, and animated\nwith the hope of happiness hereafter!\n\nThe Romans of whom we have been speaking, and before them the Greeks--in\nthe good times of their republics, brought up their children in the\ncontempt of luxury and effeminacy: they taught them to esteem glory--to\nbe ardent, not to heap up riches, but to conquer those kings who\npossessed them--to believe that virtue alone was the road to happiness.\nThis spirit was so strongly established in the foregoing republics,\nthat they atchieved incredible things according to those maxims which\nwere so contrary to the opinions of all other people. The examples of so\nmany martyrs, and of other primitive christians of all conditions and\nages, demonstrates that the grace of baptism being united with the\nhelp of education, may make impressions still more wonderful among\nthe faithful, to enable them to despise every thing which is attached\nto the body. Seek then for every agreeable circumstance, every\nstriking comparison, to convince children that our bodies are like the\nbrutes--our souls like angels. Represent a knight mounted on a horse and\ndirecting its course: and say, that the soul is to the body, what the\nhorseman is to the horse. Finish your remarks by observing that the\nsoul is weak and miserable, when abandoned to the direction of the body;\nwhich, like a furious horse, would hurl it down a precipice. Relate,\nalso, that the beauty of the body, or external person, is like a flower\nwhich blossoms in the morning, and withers and is trod under foot in the\nevening--but that the soul is the express image of the immortal beauty\nof God. There is, you may add, an order of things much more excellent,\nwhich cannot be seen by the gross eyes of the flesh--whereas every\nthing here below is subject to change and corruption. In order to make\nchildren sensible that there are really certain things, which neither\nthe eyes nor the ears can apprehend, you may ask them whether it is\nnot true that such a person is wise--and that such an one is witty or\ningenious.--When they have answered _yes_, you may observe--\"But have\nyou _seen_ the wisdom of such a person? Of what colour is it? Have you\n_heard_ it? Does it make much noise? Have you _touched_ it? Is it cold\nor hot?\" The child will laugh: nevertheless put the same questions\nrelating to wit or ingenuity.--She will appear quite astonished when she\nis asked of what colour is wit--whether it is round or square? Then you\nmay make her remark that she knows there are many things in reality\nwhich she can neither see, touch, nor hear; and that these things are\nspiritual. But you must enter with great soberness and caution on these\nsort of conversations with girls. I only propose it here for the sake\nof those, whose curiosity and reason, will bring you, in spite of\nevery effort to the contrary, to such questions. You must regulate the\ndiscourse according to the bias of the child's mind, and the necessity\nof the case.\n\nRetain their understandings, as much as possible, within common limits:\nand teach them that there is a modesty with regard to science, which\nbelongs to their sex, almost as delicate as that which is inspired by\nthe horror of vice.\n\nAt the same time you must bring imagination to the aid of intellect; to\ngive them pleasing images of the truths of religion, which the gross\nsenses of the body are unable to behold. Paint to them the glory of\nheaven, such as St. John has represented it!--tears wiped away from\nevery eye--neither death, disease, nor lamentation--all agonies ceasing,\nall evils at an end--eternal joy on the head of the righteous, like the\nwaters on the head of a man immersed in the sea! Display that glorious\nJerusalem, of which God himself will be the Sun, to create days without\nan end--a river of peace, a torrent of delight, a fountain of life,\nshall water it--there, every thing shall be gold, pearls, and precious\nstones.\n\nI am well aware that all these images are attached to things sensible;\nbut after having animated children with such a beautiful spectacle so as\nto rivet their attention, one may adopt the method just recommended to\nbring them to spiritual things.\n\nConclude, that we are, in this world, like travellers in an inn, or\nunder a tent: that the body is hastening to decay, and that all our\nefforts can retard its corruption but a few years: but that the soul\nwill fly away to that celestial country, where it will live for ever\nwith God. If children can be brought to contemplate these grand objects\nwith pleasure, and to judge of the common things of life through the\nmedium of such high hopes, we shall have accomplished a most important\ntask.\n\nI would even try to impress them with strong ideas of the _resurrection\nof the body_. Teach them that nature is but the common order which God\nhas established in his works, and that miracles are only exceptions to\nthis common order; so that it is as easy for the Almighty to work an\nhundred miracles, as it is for me to go out of my room a quarter of an\nhour before my usual time of departure. Then call to recollection the\nhistory of the resurrection of Lazarus, of Jesus Christ, and of those\napparitions which were recognised for forty days by a great number of\npersons. Next, shew that it cannot be difficult for that Being who\ncreated man, to bring him to life after dissolution; and do not forget\nthe comparison of a grain of corn which is sowed in the earth, and\ndecays, in order to reproduce and multiply its species.\n\nMoreover, these moral lessons must not be taught children by memory, in\nlike manner as they are taught the catechism: such a method would have\nan immediate tendency to convert religion into an affected language, or\nat least into troublesome formalities: only assist their understanding,\nand put them in the way of comprehending the foregoing truths on their\nproper foundations: they will, in consequence, appear more consistent\nand agreeable, and become more vividly impressed on the mind. Take\nadvantage of every opportunity to make them develop with clearness, what\nthey at present confusedly behold.\n\nAlways bear in mind that nothing will be more dangerous than to speak\nto them with contempt of this life, when, by the tenor of your conduct,\nthey discover that you do not deliver your sentiments with sincerity and\ntruth. In every period of life, example has an astonishing effect upon\nus--in infancy, it is every thing. Children are very fond of imitation;\nthey have not yet acquired habits which render the imitation of another\ndifficult--besides, not being of themselves able to judge profoundly\nof things, they judge much more from the example of those who propose,\nthan from the reasons which they adduce in proposing, them. Actions are\nmuch more striking than words: so that if they observe your actions do\nnot correspond with your precepts, they will be disposed to consider\nreligion, only as a _specious ceremony_, and virtue as an _impracticable\nidea_.\n\nNever indulge yourself before children, in any railleries about things\nwhich have relation to religion, or on the indiscretion of any pious\npersons: you may think all this innocent--you are mistaken--it will\nhave its certain consequences. Never speak of God, or of what regards\nthe worship of him, but with seriousness and respect, free from all\nlevity--observe decorum in every thing, but particularly on this head.\nPeople who are very nice observers of it in what regards the world, are\nfrequently gross and negligent in respect to religion.\n\nWhen a child shall have made such necessary reflections as lead to a\nknowledge of herself and of God--add to them the historical facts in\nwhich she has already been instructed: this union will enable her to\nhave a correct idea of the whole of religion: and she will remark with\npleasure the connection between such reflections and the history of\nmankind. She will have observed that man did not make himself, that his\nsoul is the image of God, that his body has been formed with so many\nadmirable resources, by an industry and power which can only be\ndivine--and she will then recollect the creation. Afterwards she will\nthink that he is born with inclinations contrary to reason, that he has\nbeen deceived by pleasure, carried away by anger, and that his body\nhurries on his soul, contrary to reason, as a furious courser rushes\nforward with a horseman; instead, of the soul governing the body. She\nwill perceive the cause of this disorder in the history of the sin\nof our first parents; and this history will lead her to that of the\nSaviour, who reconciles man to God. Such is the foundation of religion.\n\nTo make young people better understand the mysteries, actions, and\nprecepts of Christ, we must dispose them to read the Evangelists. They\nmust, therefore, be early prepared to read the word of God, as they are\nprepared to receive the holy communion of the Sacraments.[6]\n\n [6] Here follows, in the original, certain matter which may be\n thought to savour too strongly, on the one hand, of the authority due\n to the _Romish Church_; and on the other, of principles (resulting\n therefrom) which are now called _Evangelical_; and as such, contrary\n to the doctrine and tenets of the established Church of England.\n\nRemember, then, to place before their eyes the Gospel, and the great\nexamples of antiquity; but not till you are assured of their docility,\nand simplicity of faith. Provided you lay the foundation of humility,\nsubmission, and an aversion to all suspicious singularity, you will\nshew young people, with great benefit and effect, every thing the most\nperfect in the law of God, in the institution of the Sacrament, and in\nthe practice of the ancient church. I know that one cannot hope to give\nthese instructions, in their full latitude, to all sorts of children; I\npropose it only, in order that we may make use of them, as exactly as\npossible, according to circumstances, time, and the dispositions of them\nwhom we instruct.\n\nSuperstition, without doubt, is to be avoided in the sex: but nothing\neradicates or prevents it better than solid instruction: this\ninstruction, although it ought to be restrained within proper bounds,\nand different from the studies of the learned, produces greater effects\nthan is ordinarily imagined. A person sometimes thinks himself to be\nwell informed, who in reality is not so; and whose ignorance is even so\ngreat that he is not in a condition to feel what he wants in order to\nknow the foundation of christianity.\n\nNever suffer any thing to be mixed with the faith, or the practices, of\nreligion, that is not drawn from the Gospel. Carefully guard children\nagainst certain abuses which are but too common, and which are,\ntherefore, too apt to be considered as points of present discipline in\nthe church. These errors are not to be guarded against without recurring\nto the source, and knowing the origin of the usages and customs of holy\nmen of the primitive ages. Children who are naturally too credulous,\nshould never be used to admit _lightly_ certain histories without\nauthority; nor to attach themselves to certain devotions which are the\noffspring of an indiscreet zeal. The true way of instructing them in\nthese subjects, is, not to criticise those things which have often been\nintroduced from pious notions, but to shew, without passing a severe\ncensure, that they rest on no solid foundation. Content yourself with\nomitting these matters in your instructions relating to the christian\nreligion: this silence will be sufficient, at first, to enable children\nto form a perfect idea of christianity, without adding practical\ncautions: In the course of your instructions, you may prepare them, by\ndegrees, against the reasoning of _Calvinists_: I think this will not\nbe useless, as we mingle every day with people prejudiced in favour of\nCalvinistical opinions, who deliver them in the most familiar\nconversations.\n\nGive children a taste for plain, sensible, and edifying discourses--not\nfor those that are full of vain and affected ornament: accustom their\nimaginations to hear death spoken of: to see, without perturbation,\na funeral pall--an open grave--sick people who are dying, and those\nalready dead: if you can do so without exposing them to violent emotions\nof fear.\n\nNothing is more to be lamented than to see many people, who are really\nreligious, express a continued dread of death: some absolutely turn pale\nat finding the number _thirteen_ at table--or on having had certain\ndreams--or having seen a saltseller thrown down: the fear arising from\nthese imaginary presages is a gross remnant of paganism: make children\nsee the folly and absurdity of them. Although women may not have\nthe same opportunities of shewing their courage, as men, they ought\nnevertheless to possess it. Cowardice is despicable, every where, and\nhas always bad effects. A woman should know how to resist vain alarms,\nand should be firm against unforeseen danger: let her cry and be\nagitated on great occasions only, and in them let virtue be her chief\nsupport. A christian of either sex should never be a coward. The soul of\na christian, if one may so express it, is the contempt of this life, and\nthe love of that which is to come.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. VIII.\n\n_On Religious Studies._[7]\n\n\n [7] The present original chapter is substituted for that of Fenelon,\n as being more applicable, in the opinion of the translator, to the\n generality of female readers; at least to those of his own country.\n\nThe preceding observations have sufficiently convinced us of the\nimportance of religion, both as it affects our temporal and eternal\nwelfare. It now follows that we instruct our children in the reading\nof certain religious works, which are not only considered to contain\nwholesome doctrine, but which may strengthen us in the opinions we have\ncherished, and establish, on an unshaken basis, \"the reason of the hope\nthat is in us.\"\n\nWithout a pretty accurate information of those _data_, on which our\nreligion is formed, we become subject to the caprice or violence of\ncertain artful characters, who seldom fail to perplex us, and undermine\nmany of the essential articles of the christian faith; and who\nultimately leave us, after pulling down the fair fabric we had built, in\nall the misery of doubt and distraction. The scriptures may be said to\nbe written with the finger of God, on adamant which can never perish: it\nis not in the power of man to shake their authority, or to divert their\nproper influence on a sincere and pious mind. It is our duty to be\ncareful to comprehend them thoroughly, to have as clear a conception\nas possible of their more mysterious parts, without harassing our minds\nif some things still remain for future revelation. We are not to\ncensure what we do not, at first, understand: reason and knowledge are\nprogressive--by degrees, the mist of ignorance is cleared away, and the\nsunshine of intelligence succeeds. Above all, let us not presumptuously\nconclude certain passages to be irrecoverably obscure, without\nconsulting the many able commentators who have treated on them; but as\nthe library of a mother may not be extensively theological, let us apply\nfor information to those pious pastors, and studious men, who have\nmade these commentators their particular study. If we are so eager to\nsatisfy ourselves and our children on the trifling topics that ordinary\nconversation gives rise to, how much more anxious should we be to\nobtain certainty and truth on the important doctrines of revelation!\n\nI do not, however, mean that a child is to be always reading the bible,\nor sermons, or the catechism--nothing is so injudicious. At her tender\nyears she can comprehend little of the doctrinal points of scripture;\nand besides, from such constant habits of perusing religious books, she\nmay become fatigued and disgusted, and turn an indifferent ear to all\nfuture application to them. Let us avoid making children affectedly\nknowing in those subjects which sometimes require the mature years and\nprofound study of divines to comprehend. Nothing is so disgusting as\n_cant_; as religious quotations in young people, who cannot, from their\nyears and habits, have formed an accurate idea either of the meaning or\napplication of what they quote: such things savour strongly of those\n_suspicious singularities_ which Fenelon is so anxious to eradicate. The\nhabit of quoting scripture in young persons of either sex, carries with\nit a pertness and conceit, which all judicious parents will be careful\nto discourage. Sacred truths, or religious denunciations, are not to\nbe enforced by the levity of youth; ignorance and hypocrisy may be\nsuspected where such premature sanctity prevails. If there be one\nthing more than another, which destroys the simplicity and harmless\ncheerfulness of girls, it is the giving them notions of puritannical\ngravity, and artificial sobriety of behaviour: joy and elasticity of\nspirits are not of themselves criminal. If we repress these innocent\nebullitions, by inculcating formality and fastidiousness, we do as\nmuch mischief to the growth of the mind, as we should do to that of an\nupright and proportionate body, by the application of bandages and\nligatures.\n\nNo small degree of care and skill is requisite for the direction of\nreligious studies in young people, and especially in females; because\nthe opposite sex, which is always fond of triumph, will be exerting\nevery art, and trying every expedient, to weaken and subvert their\narguments. If reason or superior knowledge fail, ridicule is resorted\nto; and this, it must be confessed, has a very strong effect on\nthose young people of a disposition above described. In early years,\nreligious impressions should be kept solemnly within the breast: they\nshould be our consolation in affliction, our hope in distress, and the\ngrand stimulus to prayer and meditation. It is well known, that from\na premature disclosure of crude religious sentiments, ridicule and\ndisgust are excited; and many an amiable and pious girl has suffered\nher principles to be shaken, and her faith to be overturned, by the\nbuffoonery and sarcasm of a weak and contemptible antagonist. Let us\nendeavour to guard against this; and to prevent any ill effects arising\nfrom those important studies, which should be the ornament and solace of\nour lives.\n\nFrom no quarter can a child receive religious instruction with more\nbenefit than from a _mother_; and in proportion to the ignorance or\nindiscretion of the latter, will be that of the former. If a child is\nunaccustomed to see books of religion in her mother's library, she\ncan have but little curiosity to peruse them; and if they at last\nbe obtruded on her, she will naturally suspect the sincerity of her\ninstructor, who produces works which she deems of the highest importance\nto her pupil's welfare, but of which she herself does not possess a\nsingle copy. This evil is easily remedied, if parents would only\nconsider the importance of religious education; if, instead of crowding\ntheir shelves with the flimsy productions of novelists and romancers,\nthey would admit a few judicious works, which treat of the evidences of\nthe Christian religion, and describe the chief doctrines by which it is\nupheld. A portion of these studies might be given at stated times, or as\nthe inclination of the child prompts, so as not to make them too formal\nor severe.\n\nBy the blessing of providence, we have, in our own country, a great\nabundance of excellent religious tracts, which display the rise,\nprogress and establishment of the Christian religion. Men of eminence\nand piety--archbishops, bishops, divines of every rank, and laymen, have\nall contributed their talents, with various ability and success, to set\nforth the glory of the gospel, and the truths of the kingdom of heaven.\nLet us, therefore, attend to the doctrines which these wise and virtuous\nmen, who have passed a long and studious life, as labourers in the\nvineyard of Christ, have illustrated and enforced. Let us not indulge\nchimeras and conceits of our own; but, with a diffidence and timidity,\nlisten to those opinions of the learned and the good, whose abilities\nand opportunities have best entitled them to pronounce judgment. Nothing\nshould be so much avoided as hasty and obstinate conclusions, drawn from\npremises which are not sufficiently understood.\n\nIn proportion to the breadth and depth of the foundation, will be the\nstrength of the superstructure; and if we take care to place in the\nhands of young religious pupils, such sound and serious books as awaken\npiety, without kindling enthusiasm--as lead and satisfy the reason,\nwithout exciting vain and sceptical curiosity--as strengthen the mind,\nand meliorate the heart, without creating vanity, selfishness, and\nhypocrisy--we shall, I ardently conceive, have effected _that_ which it\nwas our wish and duty to perform.\n\nAgreeably to these principles and reflections, I am desirous of\nrecommending such plain, perspicuous, and sound works, as comprehend\nevery thing relating to the elements, doctrines, and practice of\nchristianity; and such as may not be difficult, or attended with great\nexpence, in the procuring.\n\n1. The TEN COMMANDMENTS; _and the 5th, 6th, and 7th Chapters of the\nGospel, according to St. Matthew_. These important parts of holy writ\ncontain a fund of the most excellent and essential doctrines for a\nchristian to know and practice; the primitive christians used to commit\nthem to memory, and instruct their children in the application of\nthem.[8]\n\n [8] Perhaps it may be advisable to have them printed separately, in\n large striking letters, so as to be impressed stronger on the child's\n imagination.\n\nThe following production may be worth obtaining; \"AN ABSTRACT _of the\nHistorical Part of the Old Testament, with References to other Parts of\nthe Scripture, especially to the New Testament_;\" which are placed at\nlength in an opposite column. London: printed by W. Bowyer, 1730, 8vo.\nThis is a very useful, though not generally known, publication. If it\nhas not been reprinted, it is now probably scarce.\n\nThe work is \"inscribed to the founders, benefactors, and trustees, of\nthe charity schools.\" It was composed by that learned printer, Mr.\nBowyer; and the introduction, written by way of preface, bears strong\nmarks of the piety and talents of its author. It is followed by a\n\"Translation of a Letter from the Earl of Mirandola and Concordia, to\nhis nephew, then an officer in the army of the Emperor Charles V.\" This\nletter, which is too long to extract, is serious and impressive; and\nsuch as does great honour to the religious principles, and sound sense\nof the writer.\n\n2. Dr. DODDRIDGE'S _Three Sermons on the Evidences of Christianity_,\nseparately published, from the particular superintendance and\nrecommendation of the present Bishop of London. It is an useful tract,\nand is sold very cheap.\n\n3. The (present) BISHOP OF LONDON'S _Summary of the Evidences of\nChristianity, &c._ which may be considered one of the most useful, and\nperspicuous treatises extant; it is very cheap.\n\n4. Mr. ADDISON'S _Treatise on the same_. This (which should properly\nhave been first noticed) is a beautiful and masterly dissertation, and\nworthy of the celebrity of its pious and elegant author.\n\n5. GROTIUS _on the Truth of the Christian Religion_. Every enlightened\nmother will derive great pleasure and benefit from the perusal of this\nincomparable treatise. It has been translated by John Clark, and lately\nby the Rev. Mr. Madan, from the Latin of the famous Grotius. Students in\ndivinity are usually examined in the original when they present\nthemselves for holy orders.\n\n6. BISHOP PRETTYMAN'S _Elements of Christian Theology_. This is a\nwork of deserved repute, and will be found greatly instructive. The\nhistorical events of scripture are detailed in an interesting manner,\nand cannot fail to afford the most pleasing conviction of the truth of\nwhat is related. There has been an abridgment of it in one large 8vo.\nvolume, by the Rev. Mr. Clapham. The original is in 2 vols. 8vo.\n\n7. SECKER (Archbishop) _on the Catechism_: and WILSON (Bishop) _on the\nSacrament_. These are truly excellent treatises: their established\ncelebrity renders no further recital of them necessary in this place.\n\n8. SERMONS: by _Dr. S. Clarke_; _Abp. Secker_, _Sherlock_, _Jortin_,\n_Balguy_, _Porteus_, (Bishop of London), _Blair_, and _Carr_.[9] These\namong many other excellent ones, whose enumeration would swell the list\nto an unnecessary size, may be perused and meditated on with great\nadvantage. They are not selected in rejection of others, but solely as\ncontaining much sound and edifying matter, which may bring forth \"sixty\nand an hundred fold.\"\n\n [9] Miss Boudler has published a small volume of useful sermons to a\n country congregation, which it may be advisable to procure. Her name\n is not prefixed to the work; but it is published by _Cadell_ and\n _Davies_, in the Strand.\n\n9. WILSON'S (Bishop) _Bible, with Commentaries_: in 3 vols. 4to. Bath:\nprinted by Crutwell. Perhaps, the most judicious and unexceptionable\nillustration of the sacred text extant.\n\n10. GISBORNE'S _Duties of Women_, and _Familiar Survey of the Christian\nReligion_, are both very excellent performances, and reflect great\ncredit on the head and heart of the distinguished and benevolent writer.\n\n11. _The Whole Duty of Man._\n\n12. _The Ladies' Calling._ These two last works are from the same\nanonymous author, whose publications are, indeed, purer than gold--\"yea,\nthan much fine gold.\"\n\nSuch are the works recommended to the perusal and meditation of serious\nand enlightened parents: and such, it is hoped, will not bring forth\n\"bitter fruits.\"\n\nThere are moments of languor and heaviness, of dulness and despondency,\nto which the best of mothers may be exposed, and which may be removed,\nor relieved, by a perusal of some of the foregoing writers: in such\nmoments, she will know the full value of their works, and will not\nrepent the trouble or expence incurred in the procuring of them. She\nwill then be convinced that the common productions, which amuse the\nignorant and the foolish, could not have supplied the want of them;\nwhether in soothing the pangs which arise from a deceased husband or\nchild, or in teaching her to bear up with fortitude against the frowns\nof a persecuting world. The balm of consolation, which arises from these\nstudies, she will pour into the bosom of a dutiful daughter; and the\nknowledge that she has gained by experience, will be imparted to, and\ngrow up with, her rising posterity.\n\nLet it always be impressed on our minds, that if we are so anxious to\nprocure costly furniture, or splendid apparel, which the moth eats, or\nthe thief steals, how much more is it our duty to devote a comparatively\ntrifling sum towards the acquisition of those mental treasures, of which\nneither treachery nor violence can dispossess us, and which fit us, by\ndegrees, for the eternal mansions of happiness and rest.\n\nIt has been observed, that the female sex is more liable to fanaticism\nthan the male; the history, however, of religious sectaries, does not\nauthorise this observation: instances of violence and mad persecution\nmay be adduced, in which females have taken a very subordinate part, or\nindeed none at all; and while the examples of Athanasius and Arius are\nfresh in the memory, we need not resort to another. That the warmth\nand susceptibility of a female mind renders it exposed to strong\nimpressions, before the judgment begins to operate, cannot be disputed.\nWhat pleases on the first impression is not easily eradicated; and we\nconclude that to be true, which flatters some previous opinion, or\nfavour some secret bias. Error, thus introduced, is not extirpated\nwithout difficulty: and if to the pliancy and sensibility of a female\nmind, we add, that opportunities are seldom offered of going into deep\ncritical investigations, or listening to opposite opinions, which are\nfounded on reason and experience, it will not appear surprising that\nwomen are sometimes warm in their religious sentiments, and slow and\nreluctant to abandon them.\n\nHence follows the necessity of a _proper religious instruction_--of an\nadherence to those doctrines and opinions, which, on a careful survey of\nthe many that have agitated mankind, seem to be the best calculated for\nensuring our present and future welfare. In thus offering advice on so\nimportant a subject, the translator has ventured to advance certain\nsentiments, and to recommend certain works, which in his humble\napprehension, appeared likely to be productive of some assistance\nand advantage. When he recommends a conformity to the tenets of the\nESTABLISHED CHURCH OF THIS COUNTRY, he does so from a conscientious\nconviction of its purity and excellence; from a recollection of the many\ngreat and good men who have lived and died in its cause; and whose works\nremain a glorious monument of their diligence, piety, and learning.\nWhile reason, integrity, and virtue, have any influence on the human\ncharacter, while practical good is acknowledged to be superior to\nplausible theory, so long shall the luminous and illustrious divines\nof the English Church rise above all the pretensions of fanatical and\nself-inspired teachers, who turn the word of God into craft, and use the\nname of Jesus with their lips, while their hearts are estranged from\nhim.\n\nThat the foregoing sentiments may tend to promote true sober-minded\nreligion--to adorn the female character with those charms which arise\nfrom the substance, and not the form, of piety--to excite cheerfulness\nwithout levity--seriousness without despondency--and happiness in this\npresent state without groundless anxieties of the future--is the earnest\nand ardent wish of their author.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. IX.\n\n_Remarks on Ordinary Defects among Girls._\n\n\nWe are now to speak of the care and attention which are requisite\nto preserve girls from many defects to which they are too commonly\naddicted. They are oftentimes brought up in so effeminate and timid a\nmanner, as to be rendered incapable of a firm and regular conduct. At\nfirst there is much affectation, which afterwards become habitual, in\nthose ill-founded fears, and in those tears, which are so cheaply and\nplentifully bestowed. A contempt of such affectations would operate\ngreatly in correcting them; as they are in a considerable degree the\noffspring of vanity.\n\nThey should also be repressed in the indulgence of too violent\nfriendships, little jealousies, excessive compliments, and flatteries:\nall these things spoil them, and accustom them to imagine that dryness\nand austerity belongs to every thing which is serious and grave. We\nshould strive to effect this, so that their common mode of parlance be\nshort and precise. A good understanding consists in retrenching all\nsuperfluous discourse, and in saying much in few words: whereas, the\ngreater part of women say little in many words. They mistake facility\nof utterance and vivacity of imagination for good sense: they make no\nselection of their thoughts: they observe no order in regard to the\nthings they have to explain: they are passionate in every thing they\nutter, and passion produces loquacity. Nothing very excellent can be\nexpected of a woman, if she is not obliged to reflect on consequences,\nto examine her thoughts, to explain them in a precise manner, and\nafterwards to be silent.\n\nAnother circumstance which greatly contributes to the loquacity of\nwomen, is, that they are naturally artificial, and use a _roundabout_\nmanner to arrive at the proper end. They are fond of _finesse_: and\nhow is it possible they should be otherwise, when they are ignorant\nof a more prudent method--and when it is usually the first thing which\nexample has taught them? They have a soft and ductile nature which\nenables them easily to play a part in every thing: tears cost them\nnothing: their passions are lively, and their knowledge limited: hence\nit is that they neglect nothing to come off successful--and that they\nadmire certain methods, which to a serious and prudent woman would\nappear very exceptionable: they seldom stop to enquire whether such a\nthing is desirable, but are anxious and indefatigable only in obtaining\nit. Add to this, they are timid and full of what is called \"_mauvais\nhonte_;\" which is another source of dissimulation. The method of\npreventing so great an evil, never to put them under a necessity of\nfinessing, but accustom them to declare ingenuously their sentiments\nupon every lawful topic. Let them be at liberty to express their\n_ennui_ whenever they feel it: and let them never be subjected to feign\nan admiration of certain persons or certain books, which in reality\ndisplease them.\n\nSometimes a mother is prejudiced against a governess, and undertakes\nthe management of the child herself, while the daughter cunningly acts\ncontrary to her taste. When children are so wretched that they are under\nthe necessity of disguising their sentiments, the way of extricating\nthem from such a dilemma, is, to instruct them solidly in the maxims of\ntrue prudence--as one perceives that the method of correcting a taste\nfor novels and romances, is, by exciting a turn for useful and agreeable\nhistories. If you do not encourage a rational curiosity, they will\nentertain an irrational one--in like manner, if you do not form their\nminds on the principles of true prudence, they will become attached to\nfalsehood, which is, in fact, _finesse_.\n\nShew them, by examples, how one is able, without duplicity, to be\ndiscreet, foresighted, and attached to _legitimate_ means of succeeding.\nTell them that prudence consists chiefly in speaking little--in\nentertaining a greater distrust of oneself than of others, and not in\nuttering false sentiments, and playing a deceitful part. An upright\nconduct, and a general reputation for integrity, begets more confidence\nand esteem, and, in the end, even more temporal advantages, than\nperverse and suspicious habits. How much does this judicious rectitude\nof conduct distinguish a person, and render her fit for the most\nimportant undertakings!\n\nBut add, how base and contemptible is _premeditated finesse_! it is\neither an account of some trifle which one is ashamed to mention, or it\nmust be considered as a pernicious passion. When one wishes for that\nwhich it is lawful to wish for, the request is made openly--and it is\nsought for in a direct and proper method, with moderation. What is\nthere more delightful and agreeable, than to be sincere? always\ntranquil--always content--having nothing to fear or to feign? On the\ncontrary, a dissimulating character is always in agitation--remorse--and\ndanger--and under the deplorable necessity of covering _one finesse_ by\nsubstituting an _hundred others_.\n\nWith all these shameful disquietudes, artificial characters never escape\nthat misery from which they are constantly flying--sooner or later their\n_real_ character will appear. If the world has been their dupe in some\nsingle action, it will not continue so during the whole of their lives:\noftentimes they are the dupes of those whom they wished to deceive: for\nthere is sometimes an appearance of being dazzled by them, and they\nthink themselves beloved--at the very moment, perhaps, when they are\ndespised. At least they cannot prevent suspicion--and can any thing be\nmore contrary to the rational interests of a prudent woman, than to see\nherself always suspected? Unfold these things by degrees--according as\nopportunity, necessity, or the bent of your pupil's intellect, may\nsuggest.\n\nObserve, however, that cunning (or _finesse_) is always the offspring\nof a base heart and narrow-minded spirit. In proportion as we wish to\nconceal our views we become cunning--being convinced that we are not as\nwe ought to be--or, that, seeking for lawful objects, we adopt unworthy\nmeans of obtaining them--which arises from our ignorance in seeking such\nobjects. Make children remark the impertinence of certain artifices that\nthey see practised--the contempt which it draws on those practising\nthem--and lastly, make them ashamed of themselves when you detect them\nin some dissimulation. As they grow up, deprive them of what they love,\nwhen they wish to obtain it by _artifice_--but declare, that they shall\npossess it when they ask _openly_: do not be afraid even of indulging\ntheir little weaknesses, in order to give them an opportunity and the\ncourage of shewing them. False shame is the most dangerous of evils and\nthe most difficult to cure; and this too, if great care be not taken,\nwill render all others irremediable.\n\nPaint, in their proper colours, those infamous artifices by which they\nwould wish to deceive their neighbour without having the reproach of\ndeceiving him: there is more perfidy and knavery in these refinements,\nthan in common artifices. Some people, one may say, boldly practice\ndeception--but wretches of the preceding description, add novelty and\ndisguise to authorise it. Tell a child that GOD _is truth itself_--that\nit is mocking _him_ when we jest at truth in our discourse--which should\nbe precise and correct, and should consist in few words, that truth be\nnot violated.\n\nBe on your guard not to imitate those who applaud children, when they\nhave discovered sharpness of intellect by some _finesse_. Far from\nsupposing these tricks pretty and diverting, check them severely--and\nmanage it so, that all their artifice may end unsuccessfully, and\nexperience at last may disgust them with it. In praising them for\nsuch and such faults, we, in fact, persuade them that _ability_ and\n_deception_ are one and the same thing.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. X.\n\n_The Vanity of Beauty and Dress._\n\n\nNothing is more to be dreaded among young girls, than _vanity_--as they\nare born with a violent desire to please. Those roads which conduct\n_men_ to authority and fame being shut to _them_; they strive to\nbe recompensed by the charms of intellect and person: hence flows\ntheir conversation so soft and so insinuating--hence it is that they\naspire, as well to beauty, as to all the exterior graces, and become\npassionately fond of dress. A turban or bandeau is of the greatest\nimportance in their estimation.\n\nThis excess is carried farther in our country[10] than in any other.\nThat volatile disposition so remarkable among us, causes a continual\nvariety of fashions: so that, to the love of dress is added the love of\nnovelty, which has strange charms for some people. These two follies\nunited, reverses all orders and conditions, and corrupts all manners.\nAs soon as _certain rules_ are done away in respect to our clothes and\nfurniture, the same irregularity prevails in our conditions. Public\nauthority cannot settle a \"table of particulars:\"[11] every one,\ntherefore, chooses according to his money; or rather, without money,\naccording to his ambition and vanity.\n\n [10] France.\n\n [11] This is construed in the above manner in preference to \"the\n table of particular persons:\" conceiving that Fenelon means \"certain\n rules or laws\" to be observed in regard to _living_ and _dressing_.\n                                                                _T._\n\nThis passion for splendor ruins families; and the ruin of families\nbrings with it a corruption of manners. On the one hand, it begets,\nin persons of mean extraction, a passion for a large fortune (which\nreligion assures us is sinful); on the other, among people of quality\nwho find their resources exhausted, it produces mean and dirty practices\nin order to support their extravagance: hence, honor, fidelity,\nintegrity, and benevolence, (even towards their nearest relatives,) are\nextinguished for ever!\n\nThese evils arise from the influence of vain women in directing the\nfashions; they ridicule those, as antiquated dames, who wish to preserve\nthe gravity and simplicity of ancient manners.\n\nBe particularly zealous, therefore, to make girls understand how much\nmore estimable is that honor which flows from an upright conduct and\nsound capacity, than that which arises from the elegance and splendor of\ndress. Beauty, you may say, deceives the possessor of it much more than\nit does those whom it dazzles: it agitates and intoxicates the soul; we\nare more foolishly idolising ourselves, than the most passionate lovers\nthe object of their affection. A few years only make the difference\nbetween a beautiful and ordinary woman. Beauty is not desirable unless\nit produces advantageous marriages: and how should it effect this,\nunsupported by merit and virtue? A girl, merely beautiful, can only hope\nto be united to a giddy young man, with whom she is pretty certain of\nmisery: on the contrary, her good sense and modesty would cause her to\nbe sought for by prudent men, sensible of such solid qualifications.\nThose whose fame consists only in their beauty, soon become ridiculous:\nthey approach, without perceiving it, to a certain age in which their\ncharms begin to fade; still, however, indulging the dear delusion of\nself-gratification, when the world has long ago been disgusted with\ntheir vanity. In short, it is as unreasonable to be attached _solely to\nbeauty_, as to concentrate all merit in strength of body; a maxim, which\nbarbarians and savages only inculcate.\n\nFrom beauty let us pass to DRESS. True grace does not depend on a vain\nand affected exterior; although propriety, and some little skill may be\nshewn in our necessary clothing. But after all, these silks or satins,\nwhich may be pretty enough, can never be considered as ornaments which\n_confer_ beauty.\n\nI would even make young girls remark that noble simplicity which appears\nin the drapery of _statues_, and in many figures which yet remain of\nGrecian and Roman _costume_. They should contemplate the superiority\nof hair negligently tied behind, and of the broad folds of a full and\nfloating drapery. It would also be as well for them to hear painters\nand connoisseurs, who possess a true taste for the antique, converse on\nthese subjects.\n\nIn proportion as their understanding rose superior to the prejudices of\nfashion, they would hold in contempt those artificial modes of twisting\nand curling the hair, and all the paraphernalia of a fashionable woman.\nI am aware that one should not wish them to assume an entirely-antique\ncostume of dress, which would be extravagant, and sometimes indecent:\nbut they might, without the affectation of singularity, model their\ntaste on that simplicity of attire, which is so noble, so delightful,\nand in all respects conformable to the manners of christians. Make them\nobserve often, and by times, the vanity and, frivolousness of that mind\nwhich is sacrificed to the inconstancy of fashion.[12] True grace\nfollows, but never does violence to, nature.\n\n [12] A preceding and subsequent sentence in the original is here\n omitted; because it has an allusion to antiquated _high head\n dresses_; which are now, I believe, banished not only from France,\n but from Europe. The present simple and unaffected mode of female\n dress, (with some ridiculous and indelicate exceptions) is in general\n very conformable to the taste and advice of Fenelon.\n\nFashion, however, soon destroys itself: it is perpetually aiming at\nperfection, and never finds it; at least, it never stops when it _has_\nfound it. It would be reasonable enough if all changing and alteration\nwere to cease after having found perfection, comprising both elegance\nand utility: but to change for the sake of changing, appears very much\nlike sacrificing true politeness and good taste to inconstancy and\nconfusion! Fashions are frequently founded on mere caprice. Women are\nthe sole arbitrators of them; and it being difficult to say, who is to\nbe believed or imitated, the most giddy and least informed seduce and\ninfluence the rest. They neither choose nor leave any thing according\nto rule: it is quite sufficient if one thing, though useful, has been\nlong adopted: it ought to be discarded: and another thing, though\nperfectly ridiculous, but having the charm of novelty, is immediately\nsubstituted in its place, and becomes the admiration of all. After\nhaving laid a proper foundation, describe to them the rules of\n_christian modesty_. We learn, you will say, that man is born in the\ncorruption of sin: his body, exposed to a contagious malady, is an\ninexhaustible source of temptation to his soul. Our Saviour has taught\nus to place all our virtue in fear and distrust of ourselves. Would you,\nwe may exclaim, hazard your own soul and that of your neighbour by the\nindulgence of a foolish vanity? Look, therefore, with horror upon the\nexposure of the bosom and all other indecencies! When these absurdities\nare even committed without any premeditated passion, they, at least,\nsavour strongly of vanity, and betray an unbridled desire to please.\nDoes this variety justify, before God and man, so rash and scandalous\na conduct, and so likely to be imitated by others? This blind passion\nof pleasing, is it conformable to a christian character, which should\nconsider every thing as idolatrous, that perverts the love of God, and\nkindles the contempt of his creatures? When such giddy female characters\nstrive to please--what is their real object? Is it not to excite the\npassions of men? And can they regulate these passions when in their\npossession? If women go too far, ought they not to be answerable for\nthe consequences? And do they not always go too far, when their minds\nhave been but little enlightened? You are absolutely preparing a subtile\nand deadly poison, and pouring it on the spectators beneath, and yet you\nimagine yourself _innocent_! When you address your pupils in this strong\nmanner, add to it, the example of those whom modesty has recommended,\nand those whom indelicacy has covered with dishonor. Above every thing,\nnever suffer children's minds to be filled with ideas that suit not with\ntheir condition. Repress severely all their whims and fantasies--shew\nthem the inevitable danger which follows--and how much they make\nthemselves despised by wise and discreet people, in thus assuming a\ncharacter which does not belong to them.\n\nWhat now remains to be effected, is, the managing of children of high\nand animated spirit. If care be not taken of this, when they have any\nvivacity, they intrigue: they wish to speak on every topic: they decide\non works the least calculated for their capacity, and affect, through\nextreme delicacy, to be easily fatigued and overpowered. A girl should\nnever speak but when necessity prompts: and then, with an air of\ndeference and doubt: they should never even discuss subjects above the\nlevel of a common understanding, how well soever versed in them. Let a\nchild possess a good memory and vivacity--shew pleasant little turns,\nand a facility of _graceful_ eloquence--all these qualifications she\nmay have in common with a great number of other stupid and contemptible\nwomen. But an exact and uniform conduct--an equal and regulated\nspirit--when to be silent, and when to speak--these rare qualifications\nwill indeed distinguish her among her sex. As to squeamish delicacy and\naffectation of _ennui_, she must be repressed in both--by shewing her\nthat a correct taste and good understanding consist in accommodating\noneself to every thing in proportion to its utility.\n\nGood sense and virtue are alone estimable. These will teach her to\nconsider disgust and _ennui_, not as a commendable delicacy, but as the\nweakness of a diseased mind.\n\nSince one must sometimes associate with gross characters, and mingle in\noccupations not altogether congenial--reason, which is the only real\ndelicacy to be indulged, should instruct us to accommodate ourselves\naccording to every emergency. An understanding which knows in what true\npoliteness consists, and practises it, but which aspires to objects\nbeyond it, in the hope of enjoying more solid attainments--is infinitely\nsuperior to delicate and merely polite characters, who are subject to be\ndisgusted by their own nicety and refined taste.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XI.\n\n_Instruction of Women in their Duties._\n\n\nLet us now discuss, in detail, those particulars of which it is the duty\nof a woman to be well informed. What are her employments? She is charged\nwith the education of her children--of the boys, till a certain age--of\nthe girls till they are married; of the conduct, manners, and morals\nof her domestic attendants; of the whole detail of household expenses;\nof the means of managing every thing with credit and economy; and\nsometimes, of the regulation of farms and the receipt of profits which\narise from them.\n\nWomen, as well as men, should adapt their pursuits in literature and\nscience to their situations and functions in life; and according\nto their occupations, should be their studies. We must, therefore,\nconfine the instruction of women to the foregoing circumstances. But a\ncurious woman, wishing to pry into every thing, may fancy that these\ninstructions will confine her curiosity within narrow limits indeed--she\nis mistaken, because she knows not the importance and extent of the\nparticulars in which I wish her to be instructed.\n\nWhat discernment is necessary to know the disposition and genius of\neach of her children! to find out the proper mode of conduct so as to\ndiscover their humours, inclinations, and talents! to check those\npassions which are born with them, to inculcate good maxims, and to cure\nthem of their errors! What prudence should she possess, to acquire and\npreserve authority over them, without forfeiting their confidence and\nesteem! Has she not also need of observing and thoroughly knowing those\npeople whom she places near them? Undoubtedly she has: a mother of a\nfamily ought to be completely instructed in religion, and to possess a\nmature firm mind, adapted to, and experienced in, the government of her\nchildren.\n\nCan it be supposed that women ought _not_ to be explicitly and _formally\ninstructed_ in these duties, because they naturally fall into them\nduring the lives of their husbands, who are generally engaged in\nbusiness from home? Or, if widows, they still attend to them more\nclosely? St. Paul generally attaches the salvation of mothers to the\ngood education of daughters; for by these, he assures them, they will be\nsaved.\n\nI do not here take upon me to explain all that a woman ought to know for\nthe education of her daughters; because such a memorial would make them\nsufficiently feel the extent of that knowledge which it is their duty to\nobtain.\n\nTo the government of families, add ECONOMY. The greater part of women\nneglect it as a mean consideration, fit only for country folks or\nfarmers; or, at best, for innkeepers and housekeepers. Women nursed in\nthe lap of affluence, luxury, and idleness, not only neglect, but\ndespise, this domestic virtue; and seem to be forgetful of a middle\nstate between the rusticity of a peasant, and the wildness of a Canadian\nsavage. If you speak to them of the sale of corn, of the cultivation\nof lands, of the different kinds of revenue, of the receipt or raising\nof rents and other seignoral rights, of the best method of laying out\nfarms, and appointing receivers, they imagine that you wish to reduce\nthem to occupations, unworthy of their rank and character.\n\nIgnorance is the offspring of their contempt for economy. The ancient\nGreeks and Romans, so distinguished for their ability and politeness,\nstudied economy with the utmost care: some of their finest writers, from\ntheir own experience, have composed works which we still possess, and\nin which they give an account of the latest improvements of agriculture.\nIt is well known that even their conquerors did not disdain to work in\nthe field; and instances have come down to us in which the splendor of a\ntriumph was followed by the care and conduct of a plough. All this is so\nforeign to our own customs and manners, that we should not credit it if\nit were not supported by historical truth. But is it not natural that\nthe defence or augmentation of a country should be subordinate to the\nultimate object of cultivating it peaceably? Of what advantage is\nvictory, if it enable us not to gather the fruits of peace? After all,\nsolidity of intellect consists in wishing to be exactly informed of the\nway in which those things operate, which constitute the foundations of\nhuman life: the greatest occurrences are regulated by this principle.\nThe strength and felicity of a country consists not in the possession of\nprovinces badly cultivated, but in the enjoyment of those productions of\nthe earth which are necessary and sufficient for the sustenance of a\nnumerous people.\n\nWithout doubt it requires a more elevated and comprehensive genius to be\ninstructed and well informed in all the particulars relating to economy,\nand to be thereby able to regulate an entire family (which is a little\nrepublic), than to play, talk of the fashions, and be expert in all the\nlittle polite arts of conversation. That is a contemptible mind indeed,\nwhich aspires not beyond perfection in the talent of conversation: one\nsees, on all sides, women whose discourse is full of sound sense and\nsolid maxims--while this conduct is replete with frivolousness and\nabsurdity--the effect of not applying by times to better pursuits.\n\nBut take care of the opposite defect: women run a risk of being in\nextremes in every thing. It would be advisable for them, from their\ninfancy, to have the management of some trifling affair--to keep\naccounts--to see the mode of bargaining for what they purchase, and to\nknow how each thing should be made to answer a good use. Take care,\nalso, that economy borders not on avarice: shew them, in detail, all the\nabsurdities attendant on this latter passion. Tell them that \"avarice\ngains little, and dishonors itself greatly.\" A reasonable mind will\nseek, in a frugal and laborious life, only how to avoid the shame and\ninjustice attached to a prodigal and ruinous conduct. Superfluous\nexpenses are to be retrenched as they enable a person to devote a\nportion of money to satisfy the claims of benevolence, friendship, and\ncharity: great gain is frequently the result of seasonable forbearance:\ngood order and management, and not sordid savings, are the source of\nprofit. Do not fail to expose the gross error of those female economists\nwho pertinaceously forbid a mold candle, while they suffer their whole\naffairs to be subjected to the knavery or rapacity of a steward. Respect\npropriety as well as economy. Accustom young people to do nothing in a\nslovenly and disorderly manner, and to remark the least disarrangement\nin a house. Make them also sensible that nothing so much contributes\nto propriety and economy, as the keeping of every thing in its proper\nplace. This rule appears too trifling to mention; nevertheless it goes a\ngreat way if it be rigidly observed. For instance--are you in want of\nany thing? not a moment is lost in finding it--there is neither trouble,\ndisputation, nor embarrassment attending its search: you put your hand\nimmediately upon it, and when satisfied, replace it in the situation\nwhere you found it. This _nice order_ constitutes one of the essential\nparts of propriety; and every eye is struck with the neat appearance of\nso exact an arrangement. Moreover, a particular place allotted to each\narticle, not only has a pleasing appearance, but, in reality, tends to\nthe preservation of that article. It is _used_ less than it otherwise\nwould be--it is not so frequently spoilt by accident--it is even more\nrespected and treasured: for example, a vase would never be covered with\ndust, or become liable to be broken, if it were instantly put away after\nbeing done with. A passion for arranging things orderly, produces a love\nof neatness; and this will appear very advantageous, if it be considered\nthat by such means servants are never encouraged in idleness and\nconfusion. Again, something is gained by making their service prompt\nand easy, and depriving us of an opportunity of becoming impatient and\nimpetuous, which is generally the case when things cannot be found from\nconfusion and irregularity.\n\nAt the same time, avoid the excess of politeness and propriety. When\npropriety is within moderation, it is a virtue; but when we consult too\nmuch our own tastes and fancies, it is converted into a littleness of\nmind. Good taste rejects excessive delicacy: it treats little matters\n_as_ little ones, and is not hurt at any unpleasant consequences\nresulting therefrom. Ridicule, before children, those knick-knacks and\ngewgaws, of which some women are prodigiously fond, and which lead them\ninsensibly into unwarrantable expenses. Accustom young people to a\npropriety and decorum which is simple and easy of practice--shew them\nthe best way of managing things--but shew them also the advantage of\nslighting them. Tell them how paltry and contemptible it is to grumble\nif a dish be badly seasoned, if a curtain be unevenly folded, or a chair\nbe too high or too low.\n\nIt is undoubtedly better to be naturally coarse, than to have an\noverweening delicacy in matters of little moment. This pernicious\ndelicacy, if not repressed in women of understanding, is more dangerous\nas it regards conversation than every thing else: to females of this\nstamp, the greater part of mankind appears insipid or fatiguing: the\nleast deviation from politeness is monstrous: and they are always\nridiculing and disgusted. Make such women know betimes that nothing is\nso injudicious as judging superficially of people by their manners,\ninstead of examining the very bottom of their intellect, their\nsentiments and useful qualities. Convince them, by a variety of proofs,\nhow much a country woman, with a coarse or even ridiculous manner, but\nwith a good heart and sound understanding, is more estimable than a\ncourtisan, who, under an acquired politeness, hides an ungrateful and\nunjust heart, capable of every meanness and dissimulation. Observe also,\nthat those characters are always weak which incline to idleness and\ndisgust. There is no one whose conversation is so bad, as that some\ngood may not, occasionally, be drawn from it; and although a person at\nliberty would prefer choosing the best characters to converse with,\nyet there is some consolation, when reduced to converse with inferior\ncharacters, that we may make them talk on subjects that they understand,\nfrom which, perhaps, some information may be gained. But let us now\nreturn to those particulars in which a girl should be instructed.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XII.\n\n_Continuation of the Duties of Women._\n\n\nTo the duties previously enumerated, may be added the art of _choosing\nand retaining servants_. We should employ such as have honor and\nreligion: their offices should be distinctly ascertained: the time and\ntrouble which each thing requires, the manner of doing it well, and the\nexpense attending it, should also be considered. It would be absurd\n(for instance) to find fault with a servant if you wished her to dress\nany thing quicker than it could be dressed; and if you have not some\nknowledge of the quantity and price of the ingredients which compose\ndishes, you will be liable to become the dupe or the scourge of your\ndomestics; so that a knowledge of these matters is essential to a\nmistress of a family.\n\nIt is also necessary to know their humours, to manage their tempers, and\nto regulate in a christian-like manner this little household republic,\nwhich is, in general, sufficiently turbulent. Authority, is absolutely\nessential in this respect; for the more unreasonable servants are, the\nmore they should be made obedient by fear: but as they are your brethren\nin Christ, and members of his kingdom, a rigid authority should never be\nexercised towards them, unless previous persuasion is found to fail.\n\nStrive, therefore, to be beloved by your servants, without descending to\nlow familiarity; enter not into conversation with them, but at the same\ntime do not be backward in occasionally speaking, with kindness and\naffability, respecting their wants and concerns; and let them be assured\nof finding in you a compassionate counsellor. Do not check them too\neagerly in their faults--appear neither surprised nor dissatisfied,\nprovided you think them not incorrigible: let them gently hear reason;\nand submit frequently to little losses by their service, that you may\nbe able coolly to convince them, that it is not from impetuosity and\nchagrin that you correct them, but rather for their own, than your,\ninterest.\n\nIt would be no easy task to accustom _young women of fashion_ to adopt a\nconduct, at once so amiable and benevolent. The impatience and ardor of\nyouth, united with the false idea they are apt to entertain of their\nbirth, often induce them to treat their domestics pretty nearly the same\nas they do their horses--they imagine that servants are any thing but\nwhat they really are--and made solely for the convenience of their\nmasters. Endeavour to shew how revolting these principles are to modesty\nin yourself, and to humanity towards your neighbour.\n\nLet it be comprehended that men are not born to be slaves--that it is a\nbrutal error to suppose our fellow mortals are created to flatter our\nlaziness and pride; that servitude being established against the natural\nequality of mankind, we should endeavour to soften it as much as\npossible; that masters themselves, though above their servants in\nsituation, are not free from errors, and therefore should not expect an\nexemption from them in domestics; especially as they have not had the\nbenefit of instruction and good example--and lastly, if servants become\ngood for nothing by serving ill, masters also, frequently, become so, by\nbeing served well: for a facility of accommodation in every wish, and an\nimmediate gratification in every desire, only softens and effeminates\nthe soul, and renders it peevish and irritable under every trifling\ninconvenience.\n\nNothing is so well calculated to effect this domestic government, as the\nbeing _early_ initiated in it. Give a young woman something to manage\nherself, on condition of her rendering you some account of it: this\nconfidence will delight her, for youth is highly pleased when it is\nthought worthy of confidence, and capable of doing serious business. The\nexample of Queen Margaret is a fine illustration of this. That princess\ninforms us, in her memoirs, that the most sensible pleasure she ever\nexperienced, was in seeing the queen, her mother, begin to converse\nwith her, when she was very young, as with a person of years and\nmaturity--she felt transported with joy on entering into the secrets\nof state with the queen and her brother the Duke of Anjou, reflecting\nthat, not long ago, she had been immersed in the pastimes of children.\nOverlook the faults of a child in her first attempts at these things,\nand sacrifice something in order that she may ultimately gain\ninstruction. Make her sensible, in a mild manner, of what she should\nhave said or done, to avoid the inconveniencies into which she has\nbeen betrayed. Relate to her what has happened to yourself, and be not\nanxious to suppress faults, similar to her own, which you committed when\nyoung. Thus will you inspire her with confidence; without which, all\neducation is but a formal wearisome task.\n\nTeach a girl to read and write correctly. It is a shameful thing, but\ntoo common, to see women of understanding and good breeding, who cannot\naccurately pronounce what they read: either they stammer, or have a sort\nof singing or whine in their reading--whereas good reading consists\nin a simple and natural, but firm and even, tone of voice. They are,\nmoreover, sometimes grossly deficient in orthography; either as to the\nmanner of forming, or connecting, their letters when writing: at any\nrate they should be taught to write straight, and in a character neat\nand legible.\n\nA girl should know the grammar of her own language; not, however,\nthat she is to be taught by rule, as schoolboys are taught the Latin\nlanguage--but that she be used to distinguish the different tenses, in\nan obvious and easy manner; to make use of proper terms; and to explain\ntheir thoughts, in a way, at once clear and concise. By these means you\nwill enable her one day to teach her own children to speak accurately\nwithout previous study. It is well known that in ancient Rome, the\nmother of the Gracchi contributed greatly, by a sound education, to\nimprove the language of her children, who became afterwards such eminent\ncharacters.\n\nFemales should also be instructed in the first four rules of arithmetic;\nnamely, in addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division; which\nwill be of essential use to them in keeping accounts. This, though a\nvery important, is a very disagreeable, occupation with many people; but\nearly habits, joined to a facility of quick reckoning, by the help of\nrules, will overcome every antipathy, and enable us to arrange the most\nperplexed accounts. No one can be ignorant that a correct method of\nkeeping them is often productive of good order throughout an\nestablishment.\n\nIt will be prudent also to give them a knowledge of the principal rules\nof justice: for example, of the difference between a gift and a thing\nbequeathed; between a contract, an entail, and a copartnership of\ninheritance; the general rules of law, or the particular customs of a\ncountry, which render these things valid; what is exclusive, and what\nis common, property; what goods are moveable, and what immoveable.\nWhen women marry, they will find a knowledge of these things of great\nimportance to them.\n\nBut, at the same time, convince them, how incapable they are of entering\ndeeply into the subtilties of law: how much the law itself, by the\nweakness of human reason, is subject to obscurity, and doubtful\nrules: how it varies: how uncertain every thing is that depends upon\njudicial decision, clear and upright as it may seem: how ruinous and\ninsupportable is the law's delay, even in the most obvious cases.[13]\n\n [13] I have here omitted two or three passages of the original,\n because they describe such incongruity and perniciousness in the law\n of France, as cannot be applicable to the modes observed in the\n British courts of judicature.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\nAll this is of importance for women to know, in order to abate their\nfondness for lawsuits, and to prevent their trusting implicitly to\ncounsellors, who would dissuade them from peaceful measures. When they\nare widows, or mistresses of their estates in any other way, they may do\nwell to hear their agents, but not blindly follow them. They should act\nwith the utmost caution in any suits their agents may advise them to\nundertake; and consult men of greater ability, and such as are more\ninclined to recommend the advantages of compromise: in short they should\nbe assured, that the best ability in law causes, is, to foresee the\nmischiefs of them, and to know how they may be avoided.\n\nYoung women of rank and large fortune should be acquainted with\nthe duties more particularly attached to great estates: tell them\ntherefore, what should be done, to prevent the abuses, violence, tricks\nand treacheries so common in the country; how they ought to establish\nlittle schools and charitable societies, for the relief of the sick and\nneedy: shew them also the handicraft trades, that may be set on foot in\ncertain countries, to help the poor; and above all, how they may be\ntaught useful knowledge and christian conduct; this however will lead to\na detail too long to be here discussed.\n\n[14]These instructions having been attended to, I think it may not be\nimproper to allow young women, according to their leisure and capacity,\nthe perusal of profane or classical writers, provided there be nothing\nin them to inflame or mislead the passions: these will be a means also\nof giving them a distaste for plays and romances. Put into their hands,\ntherefore, the Greek and Roman historians; they will there see prodigies\nof courage and disinterestedness: let them be acquainted likewise with\nthe history of their _own country_, which has its excellencies also, and\nwith that of the neighbouring or foreign countries, judiciously written.\nAll this will serve to enlarge their understandings, and to fill their\nhearts with noble sentiments, provided you guard against vanity and\naffectation. It is generally thought a necessary part of a good\neducation, for a young lady of rank to be taught the Italian and Spanish\nlanguages: for my part I see no use in these acquirements, unless the\nlady is to be connected with some Spanish or Italian princess:[15]\nbesides these two languages often lead them to books that are dangerous,\nand which might increase the faults to which they are liable; there is\nmuch to lose, and little to be gained, by these studies. Latin might be\nof some use; even in cultivating the elegancies of language, they will\nfind the Latin more perfect than the Italian and Spanish, which are\nfull of quaint conceits, and a wantonness of imagination bordering on\nextravagance: Latin however should be taught to young women of good\njudgment and discreet conduct only; who will set no greater value on\nthis study than it deserves; who will renounce all vain curiosity, and\nhave no other view than their own edification.\n\n [14] Another passage of the original is also here omitted; because it\n relates to the observance of certain feudal rites, and to a knowledge\n of real property, which can be of no service to a woman in this\n country.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\n [15] Fenelon is certainly fastidious when he censures the acquirement\n of the Italian language, which is one of the most soft and pleasing\n of any in modern Europe. Nor does it at all follow that a knowledge\n of the Italian language should lead to a knowledge of improper\n books--the same argument may be applied to any other language.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\nI would allow also, but with great care, the perusal of works of\neloquence and poetry, if I saw they had a taste for them, and solidity\nof judgment enough to confine themselves to their real use: but fearful\nof agitating too much their lively imaginations, I would have the utmost\ncaution observed in this respect: every thing that may awaken the\nsentiments of love, seems to me the more dangerous in proportion as it\nis softened and disguised.\n\nMUSIC and PAINTING require the same precautions; all these arts are of\nthe same taste and tendency: as to music, we know that the ancients\nthought nothing was more pernicious to a well regulated republic,\nthan to admit an _effeminate melody_: it enervates men, unbending and\nsensualizing their minds: languishing and passionate tones please only,\nby subjecting the soul to the seducement of the senses, till it becomes\nintoxicated by them. It was on this account, that the magistrates of\nSparta broke all the instruments, the harmony of which was too delicate;\nand this was one of the most important parts of their policy. On the\nsame account Plato strictly forbids all the luxurious tones of the\nAsiatic music; and christians, who ought never to pursue pleasure only\nfor the sake of pleasure, are under much stronger obligations to guard\nthemselves against these dangerous entertainments.\n\nPoetry and music, _directed to their true end_, may be of excellent use\nto excite in the soul, lively and sublime sentiments of virtue. How\nmany of the books of scripture of the poetical kind, according to all\nappearance were sung by the Hebrews. Songs were the first memorials\nwhich preserved more distinctly, the tradition of divine truths among\nmen, before the invention of writing. We see how powerful music has\nbeen among the heathen nations, in elevating their minds above the\nsentiments of the vulgar: and the church has employed it,[16] for the\nconsolation of her children, in celebrating the praises of God. We ought\nnot therefore to abandon these arts, which the spirit of God himself\nhath consecrated.\n\n [16] An admirable sermon, \"on the antiquity, use, and excellence, of\n church music,\" by Bishop Horne, may be seen among the 16 sermons\n separately published by that amiable prelate, in 8vo. Oxford, 1795,\n 2d edit.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\nMusic and poetry employed on sacred subjects, would have a powerful\ninfluence in destroying the relish for profane pleasures. But while our\npresent prejudices prevail, these arts cannot be cultivated without\ndanger. Lose no time, therefore, in making a young woman who is strongly\nsusceptible of these impressions, sensible of what charms may be found\nin music, even while it is confined to subjects of religion: if she has\na good voice and a taste for music, never hope to keep her in ignorance\nof it; to forbid it will only increase her passion for it. It will be\nmuch better to give it a proper direction, than to endeavour to stifle\nit.\n\nPAINTING is more easily convertible to good purposes; besides, it\nbelongs in some degree to women; their needlework cannot properly be\nexecuted without it. I know they might be confined to employments that\nare simple and require no skill; but as I think we should contrive to\nemploy the head and hands of women of condition at the same time, I\ncould wish they had employments in which art and ingenuity might season\ntheir labours with some entertainment. Their work cannot have any real\nbeauty, unless it be conducted by a knowledge of the rules of drawing;\nfor want of which, what one sees in stuffs, lace, and embroidery,\nis done in an ill taste; all is confused; without design, without\nproportion.[17] These things are reckoned fine, because they cost a\ngreat deal of labour to those who work them, and a great deal of money\nto those who buy them. The lustre dazzles those who do not closely\nexamine, or are not skilful in these matters. The women on this subject\nhave made rules of their own, which if any man should contest, he\nwould be thought capricious and absurd. However, they might correct\nthemselves by an attention to painting, and so be able, at a moderate\nexpense, and to their great entertainment, to execute works of a noble\nvariety and beauty, which would bid defiance to the caprice and\nuncertainty of fashion.\n\n [17] I do not think this applicable to the present system of fashion:\n women, in general display great taste in patterns, and great elegance\n in the adjustment of dress.\n                                                                _T._\n\n\nThere is nothing which women ought to guard more against, or despise,\nthan _living in idleness_. Let them consider that the first christians\nof whatever condition of life, all applied themselves to some\nemployment, not as an amusement, but as a serious, useful, constant\nbusiness. The order of nature, the penance imposed on the first man, and\nin him upon all his posterity, the great example which our Saviour Jesus\nChrist, hath set before us in this respect, all concur to engage us,\neach in his station, to a life of labour.\n\nIn the education of a young woman, her condition ought to be regarded,\nand the situation and cast of life she will probably move in. Take care\nthat her expectations do not exceed her fortune and rank; if they do,\nthey will cost her many sorrows; what would have made her happy, will\nbecome disgusting to her, if she has cast a wishful eye on a superior\ncondition. If a girl is to live in the country, turn her attention\nbetimes to the occupations of the country; keep her a stranger to the\namusements of the town: shew her the blessings of a simple active life.\nIf her situation be among the middle ranks of the town, let her not come\nnear the people of the court; this intercourse will only serve to give\nher unbecoming and ridiculous airs: confine her within the bounds of her\nown station, and point out to her good examples among those of the same\nrank: form her mind to what will be the business of her life: teach her\nthe management of a tradesman's family: the care that ought to be taken\nof his income, whether from returns out of the country, or rents of\nhouses in the town: what belongs to the education of her children;\nin short the whole detail of business or of commerce, into which you\nforesee she may probably be thrown, when she is married.[18]\n\n [18] What follows, in Fenelon, relating to the religious\n establishments of women, and taking the veil, is not here\n inserted--as being wholly inapplicable to the laws and customs of\n England.\n\n\n\n\nCHAP. XIII.\n\n_Of Governesses._\n\n\nI foresee that this plan of education, will pass with many for a\nchimerical project: it requires, they will say, an uncommon share of\ndiscernment, patience, and skill, to carry it into execution: where are\nthe governesses capable of following, or even understanding it? But it\nshould be considered that when we are laying down rules for the best\neducation that can be given to children, we are not to give imperfect\nrules; it is not matter of reprehension then, that in such an enquiry,\nwe aim at what is most perfect. It is true, we cannot go so far in\npractice as our thoughts go upon paper, where they meet with no\nobstruction; but after all, though we are absolutely unable to arrive at\nperfection in this business, it will be far from useless to know what\nperfection is, and to attempt it at any rate; which is the best means\nof approaching it as nearly as we can. Besides, my rules do not proceed\nupon the supposition of any thing extraordinary in the disposition of\nchildren, or a concurrence of circumstances happily calculated for a\nperfect education; on the contrary I endeavour to apply remedies, to\ntempers naturally bad, or which have been spoilt: I calculate the common\nmistakes in education, and have recourse to the most simple methods of\ncorrecting, in the whole or in part, what has absolute need of\ncorrection.\n\nIt is true, you will not find in this little work, the means of giving\nsuccess to an education neglected or ill conducted; but is there any\nthing strange in this? Is it not the most that one can wish, to obtain\nsimple rules, by the observance of which, a good education may be\nacquired. I confess we may dispense, and do dispense generally, with\nmuch less than I propose; but it is likewise very obvious that children\nsuffer materially by this neglect. The road I am pointing out, though\ntedious in appearance, is in reality the shortest, as it leads directly\nto the object we are in pursuit of. The other, which is that of _fear_\nand of a _superficial culture of the understanding_, short as it may\nseem, is in reality long; as it hardly ever attains to the _only true\nend of education_, which is to form the mind, and inspire it with a\nsincere love of virtue. The greater part of those who have gone this\nlatter road, have to commence their journey anew, at a moment when their\neducation seems finished; and after having passed the first years of\ntheir entrance into the world, in committing errors which are often\nirreparable, they are forced to learn from experience, and their own\nreflections, those maxims, of which that wretched and superficial\neducation had left them in ignorance. It should be observed moreover,\nthat the first services demanded in behalf of children, and which\ninexperienced people regard as oppressive and impracticable, will\npreserve them from troubles much more grievous; and remove obstacles\nwhich become insurmountable, in the course of an education less accurate\nand skilful.\n\nLastly it should be noticed that in order to execute this plan of\neducation, the business does not consist so much in doing any thing\nwhich requires great talents, as in avoiding the gross errors previously\nenumerated. There will be often nothing more wanting than to be calm and\npatient with children: to be watchful over them: to inspire them with\nconfidence: to give plain and intelligible answers to their little\nquestions: to let their natural dispositions work in order to know them\nthe better: and to correct them with temper, when they are mistaken, or\nin fault. It is not reasonable to expect that a good education can be\nconducted by a bad governess; it is enough to deliver rules which will\ngive success to one, moderately qualified: of such a person it is not\nexpecting too much that she be possessed of good sense, a mild temper,\nand the fear of God; such a one will find nothing in this treatise\nsubtile or abstracted, and if she should not understand the whole of it,\nshe will comprehend the substance at least; and that will be sufficient.\nMake her read it over many times, and be at the trouble of reading it\nwith her; allow her the liberty of stopping you at any thing she does\nnot understand, or of the truth of which she is not convinced; then let\nher put these instructions into practice, and if you should observe,\nthat in talking to the child, she loses sight of the rules which she had\nagreed to follow, correct her privately in as mild a manner as possible.\nThis application will be wearisome to you at first, but if you are the\nfather or mother of the child, it is your _indispensable_ duty. Besides,\nyour difficulties will not be of long continuance: your governess, if\nshe be sensible and well-disposed, will learn more of your method in\na month by practice, than by long arguments; and she will soon be\nable to go on in the right way by herself. There will be this further\ncircumstance to relieve you, that she will find in this little work, the\nprincipal topics of conversation, with children, upon the most important\nsubjects already detailed for her; so that she will hardly have any\nthing to do but to follow them; thus she will possess a collection of\nthe discourses she should hold with children, upon subjects the most\ndifficult for them to understand; it is a kind of practical education\nwhich will be an easy guide to her.\n\nYou may likewise make excellent use of the _historical catechism_\nbefore-mentioned. Let the person you are forming to educate your\nchildren read it over so often, that it may be familiar to herself, and\nthat she may enter into the spirit of this method of teaching. It must\nbe acknowledged, however, that persons of even moderate talents for such\nservices, are rarely to be met with; and yet nothing is to be done in\neducation, without a proper instrument for the business; the commonest\nthings cannot be done of themselves, and they are always ill done by\nimproper people.--Choose therefore either out of your own family, or\namong your tenants, or friends, or from some well-ordered society, some\nyoung woman you think capable of being taught: apply yourself early to\nthe forming of her for this employment: have her near you for some time,\nto make trial of her before you commit to her so important a trust.\nFive or six governesses trained in this manner, would soon be able to\ninstruct a great number of others; many of these would probably fail,\nbut out of a great number, we might always repair the loss, and not be\nso wretchedly compelled, as we continually are, to be seeking for a\nvariety of teachers.\n\nBut though the difficulty of finding governesses is great; it must be\nconfessed there is another yet greater, which is the _irregularity of\nparents_. All the rest will signify nothing, if _they_ do not co-operate\nin the business: the foundation of every thing is giving their children\n_right notions_ and _edifying examples_: and yet this is only to be\nfound in very few families; in most, one sees nothing but confusion,\nperpetual changes, a heap of servants, who are not only quarreling with\none another, but are the cause of disagreement among their masters\nand mistresses. What a woeful school is this for young children! The\nmother who passes her time in gaming, at plays, and in indiscreet\nconversations, very gravely complains that she cannot find a governess\ncapable of bringing up her children; but what good can the best of\neducations confer on children, with the example of such a mother before\nthem? One frequently sees parents who themselves carry their children to\npublic diversions, and other amusements,[19] which cannot fail of giving\nthem a disrelish for that serious and orderly course of life, in which\nthese very parents wish to engage them: thus they mix poison with\nwholesome diet: they talk indeed of nothing but discretion, but at the\nsame time they are agitating the flighty imagination of their children,\nby the violent impressions of music, and of passionate theatrical\nrepresentations, which indispose them for application, give them a taste\nfor what is passionate, and thereby make them think _innocent_ pleasure\n_insipid_; and after all this still expect that the business of\neducation shall go on well, and consider it as an irksome and austere\nthing, if it will not admit of _this mixture of good or evil_. Thus are\nthey fond of the reputation of being anxious for the good education of\ntheir children, and yet are unwilling to be at the pains of complying\nwith the most indispensable rules of it.\n\n [19] I recommend the sensible mother, who has really the happiness\n of her daughter at heart, to peruse and reperuse the excellent\n observations on this head, which are to be found in a little\n pamphlet, lately published by the Rev. Mr. Owen; entitled \"The\n Fashionable World Displayed.\"\n\nLet us conclude with the picture which the wise man has drawn of a\n_virtuous woman_.\n\n      \"Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above\n      rubies. The heart of her husband doth safely trust in her,\n      so that he shall have no need of spoil. She will do him\n      good and not evil all the days of her life. She seeketh\n      wool, and flax, and worketh willingly with her hands. She\n      is like the merchant ships, she bringeth her food from\n      afar. She riseth also while it is yet night, and giveth\n      meat to her household, and a proportion to her maidens. She\n      considereth a field, and buyeth it; with the fruit of her\n      hands she planteth a vineyard. She girdeth her loins with\n      strength, and strengtheneth her arms. She perceiveth that\n      her merchandize is good: her candle goeth not out by night.\n      She layeth her hands to the spindle, and her hands hold the\n      distaff. She stretcheth out her hand to the poor; yea, she\n      reacheth forth her hands to the needy. She is not afraid\n      of the snow for her household: for all her household are\n      clothed with scarlet. She maketh herself coverings of\n      tapestry, her clothing is silk and purple. Her husband is\n      known in the gates, when he sitteth among the elders of the\n      land. She maketh fine linen, and selleth it, and delivereth\n      girdles unto the merchant. Strength and honour are her\n      clothing, and she shall rejoice in time to come. She\n      openeth her mouth with wisdom, and in her tongue is the law\n      of kindness. She looketh well to the ways of her household,\n      and eateth not the bread of idleness. Her children arise\n      up, and call her blessed; her husband also, and he praiseth\n      her.\n\n      Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest\n      them all. Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: but a\n      woman that feareth the LORD, she shall be praised. Give\n      her of the fruit of her hands, and let her own works praise\n      her in the gates.\"\n\nThough the great difference in manners, and the brevity and boldness of\nthe figures, make this language obscure at first, yet the stile is so\nrich and animated, that we are soon charmed with it on examination. But\nwhat should be further remarked in it, is, that it is the authority of\nSolomon, the wisest of men; it is the Holy Spirit itself speaking in\nthis lofty manner, to recommend to us, in the character of a woman of\nrank and fortune, SIMPLICITY OF MANNERS, DOMESTIC ECONOMY and INDUSTRY.\n\n\nH. Ruff, Printer and Publisher, Cheltenham.--1805.\n\n\n\n\nTRANSCRIBER'S NOTE\n\n\nPeriod spellings have generally been retained even when obsolete, though\nsome obvious spelling errors were corrected (e.g., eateth replaced\neatheth, pleased replaced peased, think replaced thing). Occasional\nmissing punctuation has been added.\n\nThe original lacked a cover, so one has been supplied by the\ntranscriber.","title":"Fenelon's Treatise on the Education of Daughters: Translated from the French, and Adapted to English Readers","tradition":"philosophy-ethics","translated_text":null,"word_count":30206}