LETTER CXXXVI.

From a Lady who had formerly kept a Boardingschool, to another of the same Profession, on Female Education.

Madam, I received your letter, containing the following request, viz. What are the most proper methods to be used in conducting the education of young ladies, so as to avoid extravagance on the one hand, and meanness on the other? This is a very important question, and perhaps above my poor abilities to answer. However, as I have had many years experience in female education, I shall tell you my thoughts on the subject with the greatest freedom.

It is the misfortune of the present age, that almost all ranks of people are so much infatuated as to strive who shall outdo one another in extravagance, and the daughter of an ordinary tradesman can scarce be distinguished from a lady of quality; if we inquire into the causes from which those effects flow, we shall find that they are partly owing to the conduct of their mothers, and partly to those entrusted with their education. I shall mention a few things concerning both, and leave you to judge of their propriety.

Mothers should, on every occasion, teach their daughters, that it is a duty incumbent on them not to have aspiring views beyond that station in which Providence has placed them: That humble unaffected modesty in a stuff gown, will be preferred, by every sensible person, before either silks or Brussels lace: That it is a greater accomplishment for a tradesman's daughter to wash a floor, than to dance on it; and much more useful to be able to dress a joint of meat, than point out the particular merit of an actress, and applaud or condemn a

song. But the keepers of boarding-schools are still more culpable than parents. No sooner is Miss placed in one of those seminaries, than she is taught to consider herself a young lady, and even honoured with that high appellation. Thus the seeds of vanity are sown in the first rudiments of learning, and continue to operate on her conduct as she advances in years

"Grow with her growth, and strengthen with her strength."

Pope.

It is almost impossible for those who are any way acquainted with human nature to imagine that the girl who is taught to consider herself as a lady, can ever be a proper wife for a tradesman, and common sense teacheth her that she has not any thing greater to expect.

But there is something still worse: she is not only unfit to be the wife of an honest industrious tradesman, but she often occasions his ruin; she expects to be supported in the same extravagant manner as at the boarding-school: dissipation takes the place of prudence, public diversions are more attended to than domestic duties, and the unhappy husband, to enjoy peace, is often obliged to leave his business, that his lady may be honoured with his company. The fatal effects of such extravagance are soon felt, and the woman who formerly considered herself as a lady, finds, by woeful experience, that she had assumed an improper name. The best, nay the only way to educate their children, consistent with their own station in life, is on all occasions to teach them not to expect more than their birth entitles them to. It would likewise be very beneficial to the nation, if those women who keep boarding-schools were to instruct the girls in useful employments, rather than in such useless arts as

cannot be of any real benefit to them in the world. I am, dear Madam, your sincere friend.

LETTER CXXXVII.

On Sickness, from a Lady to her Friend, lately recovered from a dangerous illness.

Madam,-After so long, so strict a friendship as has been inviolably preserved betwixt us, I hope it is not necessary for me to assure you how eagerly I wished to spend the summer at your house: but wherever I am, my heart is entirely yours; that heart, which, by a thousand obligations, is tied for ever to you. I know your husband and mother's tenderness would render my care almost unnecessary; and indeed my present desire to see you since your recovery, is to know the state of your health from my own observation, rather than from the reports of others, lest they should flatter me in pity to my trembling expectations.

While we continue in this world, we are subject to a variety of afflictions, either of body or mind; we are obliged to submit with a becoming resignation; but alas! in cases of that nature we are but miserable comforters to each other. Riches and honours, as tempting as they appear to their greatest votaries when well, yet in sickness, if they are accompanied with their usual train of visitors, instead of doing us good by gratifying our ambition, they help to foment the disorder, without ever producing a cure. As crowned heads are no more exempt from the sword of the destroying angel than the poorest beggars; how little ought we to value grandeur, which can give us no assistance in our extremities! A down bed is not a better insurer of sleep in such a case, than a heap of straw; and a king that groans under the agonies of an incurable dis

ease, is soon made sensible that it takes its commission from a higher power than his.

Sickness multiplies all our grievances, and the weakness of the body has such an effect upon the mind, that it sinks under those troubles that would not move it at another time; but our judgment decaying with us, we shall too soon find its place occupied by wild chimeras of our own fancy, and startle every moment at giants of our own invention; every hasty word affrights, and every whisper gives us an alarm; nay, we are sometimes so unjust as to charge our best friends with want of love and respect, when they have toiled about us to a degree that we cannot mention without blushing at our own ingratitude; and when the want of ability to help ourselves forces us to become burdensome to others, instead of excusing the trouble, we are too apt to increase their uneasiness by continual fretting. This is the common method which the sick use to afflict and confuse the brain. Mourning over our misery is indeed so very natural, that of ourselves we cannot forbear it, though we know it leads us to doubt of the goodness of that God whose mercies are daily new unto us.

A disturbed conscience is certainly the worst circumstance that can befala sick person, and I heartily beg of God to keep you and all others from falling into it; that we may never have the least distrust of our salvation through Jesus Christ, nor presume groundlessly upon his merits, without lamenting and forsaking our sins. But your life hitherto has been so strictly pious, that I do not in the least apprehend you want a summons from me to look up to him who is the author and finisher of your faith, and to call on him in your distresses. But it is with the greatest pleasure I hear of your unfeigned de

votion, even in the midst of your severe afflictions, and that you have retained your usual serenity of mind, under all your grievous tortures, without repining at the will of your Heavenly Father, who hath so ordered that the road to Canaan should be through the wilderness.

All this sedate frame of yours being considered, it may seem impertinent in me to trouble you, but I have been insensibly led into it from the remembrance of unhappy events to which I was lately witness; I mean some who, instead of submitting patiently to the hand of God, were so totally lost to all sense of duty, as to call the Almighty unjust. I hope soon to have the pleasure of seeing you, and am,-Your sincere friend.

LETTER CXXXVIII.

From a Lady to her Friend, who had buried her Husband.

My dear Friend,-Impute not my silence to any want, but to the excess of kindness, which makes me too much a partner in your sorrow, to find words at all suitable to the share I have with you in it. If, therefore, I am the last in condoling, I do most faithfully assure you, that it is not insensibility, but the highest degree of love and tenderness that occasion it. The grief that is least, is soonest expressed; and perhaps the more noise it makes, the less mischief is sustained by it. Had I been unconcerned, my thoughts and pen might have been more free, though I could not have said any thing sufficient to stem so violent a tide as your just lamentations. I might have offered some poor reasons against other women's affecting themselves so much, which I should be ashamed to mention to you, having been a witness how far your husband's love and